this boy

I knew that bringing another child into this family was going to change my relationship with Loki.  I wasn’t prepared for all of the ways, big and small, that it would.

I found myself a little mournful of our changing relationship shortly after Joule was born.  I spent the last few months of my pregnancy looking forward to not being pregnant, so that I could take him to the playground and run and jump and carry him and pick him up and we could squeeze each other with hugs until we were ready to burst, just like the old days.  But I had somehow overlooked the fact that I’d have a baby in my arms that would prevent me from running, jumping, carrying and squeezing.  I sat on our couch one night and cried on my husband’s shoulder that I really missed our son.  He was just in the other room, sound asleep, but I missed him.  I missed the two of us hanging out in the afternoons together, just the two of us.  I missed our routines.  I missed giving him my undevoted attention.

Things are still changing.  I remind myself that they always would be, even if we didn’t have a baby.  After all he’s in his fourth year now, and apparently (after consulting Dr. Google and fellow mom friends after witnessing some really horrific behavior from him) he’s supposed to be giving us a hard time right now (or at least, it’s in the realm of normalcy).  It’s hard to have two kids underfoot.  I can’t go to the playground and play with him like I used to.  I can’t always pick him up and give him a hug.  I can’t always put him first.  This results in a lot of pushback, tantrums, acting out, whatever you want to call it.  But he is still the same kid who loves hugs (needs hugs) more than anything and tells you “I love you more than God loves me” [my heart melts].  I’m trying hard to balance out each thing that I can’t do for him with something new that I can.  I’m finding new phrases or questions to ask to show him that I love him (bigger than the trees, higher than the sky, as always).  I’m sort of looking forward to when Joule is in daycare so that I can spend an afternoon here and there with him on my own, enjoying his company and no one else’s.

Over the past few weeks he has been redefined as a brother.  Strangers, friends, teachers, neighbors…they all ask him if he’s being a good big brother.  And he is a good big brother.  But he’s always going to be my Loki.

arrival

On Dec 20th I went to sleep convinced that our baby would not be arriving until that Friday or Saturday, over a full week past my due date.  As each day crept closer to Christmas I became more anxious and upset about being kept in waiting.  This, despite the fact that Loki was a full week late in his arrival.  Every night past the 15th I complained bitterly to my husband about how the baby was never going to show up.  I’d be pregnant forever.  Which of course could never happen, but when you’re several days past your due date, you say and think strange things.

That night we stayed up and watched a movie and went to bed around midnight.  Way past my normal bedtime.  But what did it matter?  I didn’t need to rest for anything.

Then at 3:30 am I woke up to a contraction.  It was a sharp and clear sensation…much different than I had remembered during my labor with Loki.  I knew that it was going to happen that day.  I tried to go back to sleep, but they started to come regularly, every 8 – 10 minutes, for the next 2 hours.  I couldn’t sleep.  I started to pay attention to how I could sense that they were coming and fell into a rhythm where I could anticipate just how long they would last.  While I waited for each contraction to pass I would close my eyes and focused on the image of Loki riding his bike in circles.

At around 5 am they slowed down to every 10 – 15 minutes and I was able to sleep between them.  At 7 am our living alarm clock woke us up.  At this point Tim also knew that it would be the day…he started making hash browns and tending to Loki while I rested a short bit longer.  We were both excited, the day was finally here.  As soon as I got up to move around the house the contractions become more intense.  I let my boys know I was going to take a shower.  I had three contractions in this time, and needed to lean against the shower wall and start some groaning to get through them.  After my shower I sat at the kitchen table.  Loki was chattering away and I told both of them that I needed silence.  Tim and Loki both watched me as each contraction passed.  I thought they were lasting 20 – 30 seconds, but they were coming every 5 minutes.  I called our midwife to let her know things were happening, but that my contractions were not lasting very long at all.  Somewhere in the background Tim raised his eyebrows, but decided not to say anything, not wanting to correct me.  Then we decided to start timing the contractions.  I told him when the next one was about to start and he hit the timer…I estimated it lasted 30 seconds.  He said it was a minute and a half.  After another 30 minutes of this he called the midwife back and told her that things were moving along.  It was somehow suggested that we go out for a family walk and the boys were getting their things together when I realized I wasn’t walking anywhere.  I whispered that it was time for Loki to go next door.  I remember asking Loki for a hug.  It was a strange moment, to know that I was sending him away and than when he would return his life would be completely different, forever.

While Loki was taken to our neighbor’s house, I called my mom, who would be driving from Maryland.  In the middle of my call I had a contraction and I could hear the fear in her voice over the phone (she was not a raving fan of the home birth plan).  I tried to calm her by telling her everything was okay and the midwife was on her way.  She told me she was leaving and wished us luck.  Tim arrived back at the house and started to fill the birth tub, which was a big inflatable tub borrowed from our midwife’s office.  It was half full when I realized the tub liner was not in it.  I told Tim the liner needed to be in place and he had to empty the tub and refill it.  The sound of the tub liner crinkling as he got it set up felt like torture, so I moved to our bedroom.

It was hot and felt humid.  Tim opened the windows in our bedroom and I listened to the rain falling.  It could not have been a more beautiful day to have a baby.  The rain was so calming.  Finally, the midwife arrived…the only one I had not met from the practice we were seeing!  But a second midwife was on her way.  I started to really fight the pushing feeling I was having.  I whined to Tim that I really wanted to push, but felt that it was too soon.  I also didn’t want to get into the tub because I was afraid I had much more time to go before I was close to being fully dilated and I didn’t want to slow my labor at all.  I got up to try to go to the bathroom and felt my water break.  Back to the bed.  And then I really started to complain that I needed to push.  The midwife asked if I wanted to be checked and I told her yes.  It was the first time I had been checked the whole pregnancy.  She felt around and told me in a very indirect way that I was fully dilated.  I remember her using a medical term and me whimpering that I didn’t know what that word meant…what does that word mean?  I didn’t think it was possible that I could be fully dilated.  I hadn’t experienced any of the signs of transition I had read about…wasn’t I supposed to vomit or something?  But I was at 10 cm.  I could push.  I told her I loved her, decided to screw the water birth, and started to push.  Twenty minutes later and I could feel the baby’s head.  Then there was a little bit of panic.  The baby was positioned in a way that was preventing an easy delivery.  The midwife told me frantically to push, as hard as I could.  All this time I had unbearable urges to push…and at that moment I felt that I could no more.  I had no urges, no contractions, I felt like I was completely exhausted.  I whined that I couldn’t and was told that I had to.  Finally our midwife was able to maneuver the baby out…the posterior shoulder wanted to come out first, which was causing the problem.  I felt the baby slide out and then felt a warm, slimy mass of life on my stomach.  Our baby.  The midwife used an oxygen tank and after that was taken care of I asked what it was.  She checked and told us it was a girl.  I smiled, knowing Tim would be pleased that he was right in his prediction (him and everyone else).

Five minutes later the second midwife arrived.  They weighed Joule, who came in at 8 pounds 6 ounces.  Her birth time was recorded as 11:27 am, but only because that’s when anyone bothered to check their cell phone.  I got to nurse her immediately and after the midwives had taken care of me, Tim went to fetch Loki and we introduced him to his sister.  Half an hour later we were all sitting around the kitchen table, eating our breakfast, with Joule in my arms nursing away.  After my first birth experience, where I missed the first seven or eight hours of my son’s life (we had a 24 hour labor & delivery, which was followed by us crashing into a deep sleep while Loki was whisked away to the nursery), it was such a pleasure and joy to be at home, welcoming our baby girl to our family and this world.

dear joule

Dear Joule,

Today you are six days old.   You kept me waiting until I was nearly 41 weeks, but you are entirely worth that wait.

You have the same strength that your big brother had when he was only a few days old.   And you look so much like him that I sometimes have a hard time believing I have a new baby in my arms, and that time hasn’t slipped back four years.  You have your father’s skinny legs and dark hair.  You have my nose and fingernails.  You have the longest fingers and toes I’ve ever seen on a baby.  And so much hair.  For now I think you resemble me, just as your brother did when he was born.  Which means that in a few years everyone will think you look just like your father, and nothing like me.

You sneeze a lot.  And squeak.  I sometimes call you Squeaker.  But most often I call you Joule Girl, which may have started as a reminder to myself.  For the first couple of days I could not get used to having a daughter, after four years of being the mom to a boy.  But now it seems so natural to say she or her about a member of our family.

We had you at home, on a rainy day.  Solstice day.  I couldn’t have asked for a better labor…having you at home was a life changing experience and something I’m incredibly grateful for.

Your big brother loves you so much.  Today he insisted on being the one to cheer you up when you were crying.  He’s been practicing his silly faces for months now, so he will be ready to make you happy when you are sad.  Today I spied him giving you hugs and kisses and holding your hand…he calls you our baby, and he’s right.  Your sweet smile belongs to all of us.  We’re so glad you’re here.

Love,

Mom

36 weeks

A few minutes ago I was talking about how it was going to take forever for December 15 to get here.  And then BAM 36 weeks.  Which is mentally a huge turning point for me.  It means only a month left (give or take).

[No picture update...the baby is the size of a crenshaw melon.  I don't need or want a crenshaw melon.  Plus, I never think to take these pregnancy shots.  Just imagine me with a pumpkin stuffed under my shirt.]

Things that have happened:

• I’ve gotten bigger.  Loki has expressed his concern that I will no longer be able to fit at the dinner table, because my stomach will prevent me from reaching my plate.  According to him, I will have to stand up to eat.  There are some things that only a sweet 4 year old can say to a pregnant woman, and get away with.
• The baby flipped: relief!  It had been breech for as long as I could tell which position it was in.  And I was getting a teensy bit worried about it.  And then it flipped.  And I know it could flip (and then flip) again, but for now it’s a relief.
• I bought some used cloth diapers, mainly prefolds, and acquired some free covers that I’m going to try to mend between now and when the baby arrives.  I’ve got old receiving blankets cut up and ready to turn into cloth wipes.  Yaaay!
• Braxton Hicks.  Like crazy.
• Nesting.  Lots of it.

So: nesting.  We made our first trip ever to Ikea.  We (proudly) walked away with only the two items we needed, and two smaller items that we were completely justified in buying (and didn’t total more than $15 altogether).  But wow…the temptation to buy, because everything is so cheap and stylish and functional, and did I mention, cheap?…I could use an Ikea here near us.  Anyhow, we’ve had a productive few weeks.  Cars are cleaned out, carseat bases installed in the cars, the baby’s room is mostly organized, all of the clothing and blankets have been washed, the crib is full of birthing supplies, I’m working furiously on holiday gifts and projects for the baby room.  We’ve also started the search for daycare (although, Loki has kindly offered his childcare services to us, stating that we don’t need to find a daycare because he can stay at home and take care of the baby while I am working), which hasn’t been nearly as stress inducing as I thought it might be.  We feel that we have some good options that may work out and I’m feeling at ease.

This pregnancy feels different in so many ways, and has from the start.  I’m smaller than I was with Loki.  My midwife said at our appointment today that if I were to go full term she guesses it would not be more than a 7 pound baby (which, according to my husband, is just another sign that it’s a girl).  I can’t wait to see how big it actually is because it feels much bigger, much more active and MUCH stronger than Loki ever did when he would squirm around in my belly.  I’m also carrying much lower with this one, which comes along with all kinds of fun side effects (pelvic pressure and pain, running to the bathroom every two minutes, waddling).  And I just feel different…like my body is getting ready.  I’m sure I am probably jinxing myself with this prediction, but I can’t help but think that this baby will get here early.  When I described how I had been feeling to our midwife today, she said she wouldn’t be surprised if that happened and she said it’s been a trend with her clients over the past few months, especially with second time moms.  I’m crossing my fingers and taking some deep breaths.

waiting

I’m 5 weeks away from my due date.  But last night a friend commented that I looked as though I was nesting, as I worked furiously on a sewing project.  Ha!  I thought.  Me?  Nesting?  Nah.

And then I realized that yesterday afternoon I had put together a list of things to get done before the baby arrives.  Currently it is nearly 20 items long.  And arranged by “Date to Complete By”.  I cleaned our kitchen pantry shelves today.  I organized our bedroom.  I am annoyed, but trying so very hard to be cool about the fact that the baby’s room is a disaster.  I find myself panicking that I won’t have time to get everything on our supply list that the midwife suggests we have.  Suddenly it seems like we have so little time to get so much done in.  Maybe because the date suddenly seems so close.  Because I’ve been banking on the idea of having a late baby but was suddenly hit with the reality that the baby could be here in as little as 3 weeks, or so.  I have admittedly been rather impatient and want this baby here, now (I just want to be able to breathe again, really), but need something to focus my attention on in the meantime….so nesting (?) it is.

And then tonight I had a nice little moment with Loki that slowed things down for me a bit.  We were reading his bedtime stories and the baby was being particularly active.  He wanted to feel it, so he put his hands on my belly.  And the baby rolled.  I mean…not just rolled.  But ROLLED like thunder.  And Loki giggled hysterically and asked what it was doing and if it was the baby’s hand that he felt.  And I told him that maybe it was, and maybe the baby wanted to hold his hand, and he smiled gleefully.  He asked if the baby could hear him talking and I told him that I’m sure the baby could.  And that I bet the baby is anxious to meet it’s big brother.  I’m anxious too.  But small moments like the one I shared with my sweet little boy are making me appreciate the here-and-now.  The way my family looks in this brief moment in time, where I can enjoy being the parent of one and the anticipation of two.