you've got to believe it's getting better, it's getting better all the time

Bear makes 3 extra house payments a year. That means our house will be paid off in 17 years. THAT means that if Rio decides to attend college on Mars, we'll be able to afford a ticket :) I said to Bear, " I need that extra money for the next few months. If I don't get some help, I'm going to go right out of my mind." He said, "Done!". Gotta love that guy. He really gets it.

So, Lauren comes in Tuesdays and Thursdays from 4 til 7. I have a trainer on Monday mornings and Thursday mornings. Bear gets home early on Fridays so now Wednesday is the only super long day alone with Rio. After Lauren came, Bear and I went out for a hotdog and ice cream cone and then we went to the top of East Rock Park and sat on a wall and looked out over New Haven. We still talked about her and I still thought about her the whole time, but it was really good to get away for a couple hours. I can so clearly picture her, being held against her daddy's chest, with that oversized head bobbing around and she searches for me. Things are getting much better. That feeling of relief is still with me. I can do this. Gracefully and happily.

****

One thing that came out of her 2 month checkup is she favors her right side. She doesn't like to turn her head to the left so the doc recommended physical therapy. We went yesterday. The physical therapist said that parents don't usually notice the favoritism until the fourth month or later. I said we're not usual parents.

So...I have to do some stretches with her and we will be going twice a week for the next three weeks. We hope to be released at that time.

Well, the princess is waking up from her morning nap so I have to go now. I know that some of you were worried about me, with good cause. Never a good thing to cry three days in a row. We are all doing much better. Rio is getting plenty of sleep and dropping off at the appointed times, which is good for all of us. I'm much more rested and feeling a bit more like myself. Gotta run!

Rio's first night

After she was wisked out of my delivery room Bear went to take a picture of her so I could see what she looked like. I was so amazed that I had actually had a baby I was in more than mild shock. I assumed that I would have a C section at the last minute and I almost did but natural delivery hopped up on drugs was definitely the way to go.

Bear ambled back into the room where the doctor was still sewing me up. He showed me her little face on the LCD screen on the back of the camera. "Wow" was all I could say. "How much does she weigh? How long is she?" I was concerned with her being 3 weeks early and all. Bear just gave me a blank stare and ambled back out to go find out some pertinent facts.

***

After they cleaned me up I was transferred to my room. They came to see if I wanted to go to the NICU to see my baby. Of course. Could I walk? Of course! So I careened to the NICU on numb legs, carried by sheer anxiety. Was she alright? Did I really see a big purple bump on her head? Did the nurses respect my wish to soley breast feed or had they started undermining my decisions?

I got there and she was so tiny. She was pink, which was great because she was gray/blue the last time I had seen her. Her hair was cleaned up a bit but she was still bloody in a lot of places with vernix in all of her folds. She grabbed my finger and all the fears I had about whether she would know me disappeared. I stood, my finger in hers, tears streaming, for about half an hour. When I felt faint I asked to go back to my room. She had to stay. Precautionary, they explained.

***

People kept arriving and grandparents were allowed to see her so when each set arrived, Bear escorted them to the NICU and they all came back to say what a good job I had done with such a beautiful baby. I was still in shock.

We had planned to 'room in'. That means that Rio stays in my room with me and I feed her and change her for the 2 days until we are discharged. Change in plans. By dinner time it was apparent that she would be spending the night in the NICU. It was just down the hall so I could see her whenever I felt like it so that was good. I sent Bear home because the flipout in my room was crazy small for him. With no baby there was no reason for him to stay with me. I sent everyone home and paced back and forth to the NICU in my pink pajamas.

***

By 4 am I had attempted to breast feed Rio 8 times. Every 2 hours. There was absolutely nothing to be had and she was starting to show it. A kindly nurse said, "Honey, you're going to have to consider formula."

That simple. We were so sure breastfeeding was going to work that we hadn't even bought bottles. So, standing in a dimly lit hall at 4:30 in the morning with fear, guilt, disappointment and shame all vying for top bidding, I made the decision. "Give her a bottle."

the things 'they' don't tell you

'They' don't tell you that whatever you were expecting-this ain't it.

'They' didn't mention that I would have no idea what to do with a ten week old. I mean, do I prop her up on the couch and make funny voices to match her scowl, cuz that's what I've been doing....

'They' don't tell you how it feels to be so tired you can't sleep and how it feels to be staring another month of this in the face.

'They' have loads of sympathy and good tidings for the first two weeks and then 'they' don't call for months. I am sorely disappointed in someone who I have a lot invested in. And I don't have the energy to call and say 'I need you'.

'They' didn't think it prudent to share how goddamned scary motherhood is. I look at that child and know I'm responsible for her life today, tomorrow, the day after that and so on. She can't feed herself, hell, she can't sit up yet. I'm all she's got day after day and I'm freaked out of my head.

'They' forgot to tell me that I would feel a little lost inside. I realized tonight that my very existance is changed. I will never be just 'Nita' again. Forever we are attached and bound and tangled up as a unit. She grew inside me and now that she's out I worry about this mean world and how we'll handle her disappointments. I suspect I won't handle them well and I have to raise her to be able to weather what may come. Talk about an oxymoron.

'They' never mentioned all the fears that come with being a mother. Walking down the street watching every approaching car like a hawk, prepared to pick up the carriage and run up the hill to escape a careening drunk driver. Every car. On a three mile walk. I'm exhausted! Or scrubbing the top of the formula can so no single fatal microbe can slip into the mix and kill her. Or never answering Fedex or UPS anymore because it could be an imposter. I'm exhausted and my mind races with bizarre and disturbing thoughts of all the things that could go wrong. Did our tough start kick me this way? I don't know but something's gotta give.

'They' don't tell you that you just might cry all the time and NOT be depressed. 'They' don't tell you there's no reason for it, it just happens.

Sometimes I sort of wish this is all a dream and I am going to wake up. You know those waitress dreams where you wait on 3 stations and the kitchen is across a five lane highway and you are so exhausted when you wake up? But if this is a dream and I wake up still pregnant, I'm going to have some serious reservations about this whole shooting match.

***********************************************************************************

Believe it or not, everything is great. I love her so much it twists my heart into a pretzel. We're getting her on a sleeping schedule and she's more rested and there is more opportunity for me to shut my eyes. I really don't know what to do with her, but I think she's amused most of the time. I had to stop holding her all the time, which seemed natural, because all of the sudden she refused to be put down. Ever. For a second. She would scream her little head off and that actually makes me sweat...Sooooo, we worked through that and now I really am propping her up and making little shows for her with age appropriate stimuli. Really, we're fine.

'accidental parenting'

Evidently there is a name for our style of parenting. Yippee. Basically, my fear left over from the NICU days made me an 'on demand' parent. That is okay for the first few weeks until we all figure out how much Rio needs to eat and when she needs to sleep and for how often, etc. When one maintains that helter-skelter non-schedule, one winds up with a baby who really can't decide what to do and when to do it because, hey, she's a baby!

Last night we reached our wits end. Rio has been crying for the better part of this week and it's mostly due to exhaustion. You can see it in her little face and her eyes have a little red mask and we're all so beat it almost seems impossible. We made the decision to get her out of our room entirely and put her in her lovely crib with the best mattress money can buy that she has barely been in these 10 weeks. So, while she screamed in our faces (for, you see, she didn't know what she wanted at that point and she was crazy cranky from being overtired so really, all a baby can do is scream!) we reviewed the mess we have made of things. We let her sleep:

on the guest bed
on our chests
in our bed
in a bassinet in the living room
in her swing
in a pack and play in our room

Yeah, when you take a minute to think about it the insanity is obvious. So we put her in her crib last night and followed the Baby Whisperer's advice which runs somewhere between hold her all the time and let her cry it out. In other words, this woman put into words our feelings after reading all the recommended baby books.

It sounds insane but we have to teach her to soothe herself into sleep. Because we've trained her to fall asleep in all the above places with the following 'props':

rocking
swinging
my finger in her mouth
bear's finger in her mouth
bear walking her back and forth

she can't get to sleep by herself. What BW says to do now is to put her down and then you have to pick her up...every time she starts to cry. The thinking is we're telling her 'Hey, we're right here, you're ok, you can go to sleep' and then we have to be consistent about it. Ugh. I only had to pick her up 11 times before she fell asleep. The book talked about times in the hundreds so I am hopeful we've nipped this in the bud a bit. And today we embarked on a schedule:

walk begining around 8 or 9
nap after that
lunch
playtime (today Bear danced out the Nutcracker with a piece of pink tissue. She was highly amused)
naptime

I just got her to sleep and it only took 15 minutes. We watched her for yawning and fading and I put her in her crib. She didn't cry at all. When she did start to fuss I helped her find her mouth with her fingers and she soothed herself.to.sleep.

whew

I never wanted to have children. That's not saying I'm not thrilled we have Rio, that's just saying that it has never been a driving force or even a given for how I pictured my life. Having her is so beautiful that words don't suffice for encapsulating the feelings that wash all over the place when I even think about her. I am unprepared for this epic journey but I'm reading and learning so much and figuring most of it out by feel and I think I'm doing a pretty good job. My heart is in the right place at least.

I think back on the months preceding her arrival and how they were jammed with finishing school and being sick all the time. I don't know how I should have prepared differently, but I would have slept one HELL of a lot more.

I'm going to look in on the sleeping princess and then spend some time with Bear. It has been a wonderful day, today.

no sleep til brooklyn

I'm tired. Not just tired, bone crushingly borderline exhausted tired. I feel like crying a lot tired. Prisoner of war tired.

Yesterday Maidpro came for 2.5 hours. I'm not so impressed but glad the vaccuum was run. The house is getting a bit out of control so until Mare gets here, this will suffice.

Bear decided to stay at work really late last night. He may have told me, but I suspect not. I cried. See first section.

Mother called and when I told her I needed some help she said, "Don't tell me. I've been there. I did it with 2 of you, all by myself."

I said, "Did you want something or did you just call to make me feel inept?". She hung up. I say, 'Bravo'.

The reality is....she ran back and forth between Wisconsin and my father and Cape Cod and her mother. She used to leave me with her mother and sister to go torture my father and, oops, get pregnant with my brother. We were both conceived in Wisconsin and born on the east coast. Huh? She lived with her mother and sister and continued to do so after my brother was born. So that is at least 2 people to help her, not to mention no one had jobs and my grandmother had staff. So when she calls instead of stopping by with a casserole or perhaps HOLDING RIO FOR A FRIGGING SECOND SO I CAN SHOWER WITHOUT WORRYING...she calls and makes me feel bad. And then I feel even worse for snapping at her. BUT...she ostensibly moved down here to 'be near her grandbaby' and she's been to my house twice since Rio's birth and she left a mess both times. Ugh.

On a happy and not bitching note....Rio's 2 month checkup was great. She had her shots which killed me and Bear. We learned that she really CAN scream. But she didn't have any real reaction except she's been a bit fussy which is okay because in general-she's perfect.

She is 10 pounds 10 ounces and 24 inches long. Bear is all proud because she's in the 95th percentile for length so he's all convinced she'll be tall like her dad. He's so cute :)

Alrighty then. My friend is here so I'm going to shower and go to my 6 week checkup 4 weeks late....hope the doc doesn't notice :)

she's gone. oh i, i'd pay the devil to replace her she's goooooooooooooone, oh i....

or something a lot like that....

Yup. Got an email and then a call from a really funny 50 year old lady who offered me a bunch of 100's for my bike so she's moving out Saturday. I'll take pictures. I'll be the one crying....

:: retail therapy ::

IKEA rocks the planet for people watching. I make up little stories about them in my head. The very strange looking ones, I make them super wealthy. If you're a freak of nature, you should at least have good cash flow in my world....

I got this and this for Rio's room. I also got these for my closet which I really should post a photo of. It is epic and disgusting and I love it. Bear actually got my shallow ass to leave my whole life for a giant closet but that's another story altogether....

what's ugh?

I will flesh out a couple of stories that Bear has asked me to over the next few days.....

We were in our room, having a sort of argument about something. He was blahblahblahing about something or other and I was making my usual non-sequitor replies.

bear: That's really all I'm saying.
me: That's rarely all there is to say.


he moves to his closet door and talks at me, still in bed...


bear: Honestly, I just wish you'd pick up your clothes once in a while.
me: (faaaaaart)
bear: What's 'ugh'? What does 'ugh' mean?

I start howling with laughter. He thought my fart was me saying 'ugh'. Yeah, I guess a lot of these stories are funnier if you're there. So now he's always saying, 'What's ugh?' and then we laugh. Hardeeharhar, huh?

maybe a better one?

There is a reason my husband doesn't do drugs. Turns out, he's not so good at them. Case in point....

I had gone to DC for a couple of fun filled days with my former state representative's daughter. I called Bear to see how everything was going. He couldn't talk but asked me to call him that night. Okaaaaay.

He had troubles sleeping. He took a couple of Ambien. Then, about 30 minutes later when he found himself still awake, he took a couple more. And then more. ...and more. This is where the fun begins.

*ring,ring* telephone at 2 am....

bear: H'lo?
gossipy next door neighbor: Are you alright?
bear: Of course. How are you?
gndn: Your house alarm is going off. What's going on over there?
bear: Umm, I'm battling a small fire....
Sets the phone down and starts making shuffling noises so she yells, gives up and calls 911.

*ding dong* cops at the door

bear: H'lo?

It is important to point out that Bear is dressed in nothing but a work shirt. Yup, no pants, hell, no underwear. And he has rugburn on his forehead and knees from falling down the stairs.

cop: Everything ok, sir?
bear: Yeah, sure.
cop: Uh, ok, do you know how to turn off this alarm?
bear: Yup. It's in the basement.
cop: ... Can we go down there and see?
bear: Sure thing..
and he leads them downstairs and shuts off the alarm, all the while smooth as silk and half naked.

The cops leave. Bear goes to bed for the rest of his good nights' sleep. The next morning as he backs out of the driveway, Nosey Neighbor shoots out of her front door and up to his car.

gndn: How are you this morning?
bear: Fine, you?

He thinks what a weirdo she is and drives off. When he frowns, he notices a tight feeling across his brow and discovers the rugburn when he looks in the mirror....

He makes me call the cops when I get home. I, of course, rush home that day cuz he can't tell me exactly what went down except for the rugburn, broken banister rails and the cop's card on the table by the door!

me: I'm calling about the incident at ** Jackson Road...
cop: Well, basically maam, your husband came to the door with his gonads hangin' out. Once he got the alarm shut down and we determined it wasn't a domestic, we left him to his own party...




Yeah, half the gene pool....

gulp

Last night Bear walked the nugget around when she woke up at 11 cuz she went to bed too early. Getting a schedule down is tough with an infant! So, he brought her to bed with us because that is how she sleeps the absolute best. One hand on dad, one hand on mom. I woke up at 3 am with the corner of my pillow over her face. It's ok cuz her face was turned to the side and my pillow is of the lightest down so it didn't crush the breath out of her but still. Shit. My heart is still pounding thinking about it. I grabbed her to see if she was breathing and she didn't wake up, just mewed. That's it. No more sleeping with us. It is way too nerve-wracking. I mean, hell, how do you continue to live if you suffocate your baby by mistake in your sleep?! She's in our bed now, taking a nap. I just keep circling the bed like a shark, thankful.

My heart is still in my throat. Today might be a bad one.....

FUUUUUUUUUUCK

More lessons from how fickle Blogger can be. Did you know that if you preview, check a link and then back up, you lose your entire post? I feel like I'm back in the early days of computers when you would be on a wild tear, writing, creating, not saving and *poof* it would be all gone. So, who knows what genius was lost? Ugh.

CLEP

College Level Examination Program. I CLEP'ed 33 credits. Simple stuff. One of the tests I was approved by the Dean to take was Algebra. Not such simple stuff. So, it turns out I've mostly graduated Magna Cum Laude from my college. I still owe this test. I was hoping that my karma was spectacular enough for it to somehow disappear that I've taken no math. No such luck. Crap. So I'm doing the self teaching book before I take it in 2 weeks. The only problem is I can 'hear' that in my brain, I am SO not paying attention....

The difference between a polynomial and a binomial is blahblahblahblah..IwonderwhatDawson'sCreekepisodeplayedtoday...didIremembertofeed
thedogs...isthatpoopIsmell?blahblahblah. Wish me luck.

Ooo la la LA lala

Overheard from Bear's conversation with Rio just now...

bear: The official complaint of the day is 'Ooo la la LA lala'.
rio: Ooo la la LA lala.

So damned cute. But not as cute as when he sings this song to the nugget. You have to understand he has a very deep voice so when he tries for that high note, and he does, it is pure comedy. That poor kid doesn't stand a chance in hell at having musical talent. Well, aside from Bear's Hoffman Syndrome*** and how that makes him such a superior drummer.....

She remains the perfect baby...

Mothers, turn away. Everyone else...guess how long Rio slept last night? She had a bath at 9 was asleep by 10 and slept until 4:45 this morning. Is that incredible or what?! I left a message for my best friend, who is breastfeeding her newborn every hour on the hour, that she should watch her mail cuz I'm sending formula and bottles! Seriously, the breast feeding is going well for someone with mangled milk ducts. She is growing like a weed and is super strong. I love how she whips that head around, too. *sigh*

Ok, I have to stop typing so I can listen to Bear converse with her. He makes my heart soooo happy. Ok, except he's saying to our baby, "This diaper is huuuge. They're as big as my grandmothers. That's some funny shit. Here's a dry dizzle for your pizzle. Ooo, fartronella is in the house."

*sigh*
teehee :)


*** I couldn't make the trackback work so here's what I was referencing above....

from June 11th

hoffman syndrome

Speaking of my funnyman..... He comes home yesterday from a new neurophysical (?) doctor as he tries and tries to recover from January's car accident.

Bear: This guy is so smart. He took out all these kinesiology books to show me exactly what he was talking about. And he did all these tests and showed me on a giant chart exactly how the nerve bundles grow from infancy through adulthood. It was fascinating!

me: *wrinkling forehead hoping I never have to go to this guy*

Bear: And he said I have 'Hoffman Syndrome.' You know what that is? (At this point he begins to hold his fingers up in weird configurations, flicking certain ones in an effort to recreated the tests the doc was doing. He looked silly.)

It means I'm hyper reflexive. The doc asked if I had superior hand eye coordination. ( I immediately thought of his drumming skills and juggling skills. Here's a hint: His drumming practice sessions are 40 second spats of drumming punctuated with loud "Fuck!"s when he misses something. His juggling, while impressive, causes the dogs to leave the room lest they be beaned again.)

me: Does this syndrome explain why you have to hang your mouth open for your hyper reflexivity super duper hand eye coordination to kick in?!

Evidently, there is no direct correlation. Go figure.

:: she's got a waaaaay about her, don't know what it is, but I'm sure that I could live without her..... ::

That would be the sound of the other shoe dropping. I was dropping a pal off after she dropped off Bear's new favorite toy** when Mother- called. She told Bear that my grandfather was in the hospital dying so I should give a call. Then she regaled him with the tale of Keith. Keith is the guy she was shtupping while he spent winter break from college at our house. The tale now goes that he wanted to drop out of law school to take care of her (her language) and she wouldn't allow it so now he has her to be thankful to (again, her language) now that's he a big lawyer in California. That and she was married to Jim about 29 minutes after her divorce to George was final, but facts don't figure hard in Mother-'s life. Bear said it was a bizarre conversation, at best. She told him how Keith was a lifeguard and built like a brick shithouse (again, her language) and how she didn't know where things would go but she was excited to see and all that jazz. So, 2 minutes giving the number for Grampy in the hospital and 15 minutes of Keith this and Keith that.

I walk in and Bear hands me the phone with an eye roll so I don't know anything. She tells me my grandfather has a mass on his kidney, 80 percent blockage of 3 arteries and his pacemaker, newly installed, appears to have a low battery.

I start to cry. Mother- says there is no need to be upset. I ask if he's going to be alright and she says, "Probably not. This is probably it for your grandfather. He has Jill there (my aunt of whom my Mother- is insanely jealous) and that's who he wants so I'm sure they'll figure out how they want to handle things. If you have questions, you should call Jim."

NOW...my mother went for more than ten years without speaking to my grandparents for some sleight, real or imagined. She thinks everyone likes Jill better because she's prettier but it really is because Jill isn't an evil witch.

Jim is her ex-husband (a critical care nurse who is fabulous at his job) who I am in contact with because he's the only father type person I ever had that wasn't a total fuckwad. She is always trying to get info about him from me. All I've spilled is that he lost 40 pounds and looks great...twist, twist.

M-: He's had a full life and he is surrounded by the people he has chosen. Did they call you (knowing full well they had asked HER to call me so they had not...)?

me: I don't know how you can be so blase about his situation but I can assure you that even if he was 120 years old, I would still be upset that he's sick.

M-: Really, Nita, he's 87 and it's silly to feel that way. This has been coming for some time now. He's an old man and his health was bound to fail. With the mass on his kidney probably being cancer and his imminent heart failure, they'll probably just let him go.

At this point I'm seething. I am so tempted to throw her overblown reaction TO HER DOG'S DEATH up in her face. Remember her reading the whole dog book and then crying about Ben? Who's been dead for more than 4 years?! And I'm supposed to just be 'okay' with my grandfather's death.

me: You're certainly entitled to feel however you want to about your father and I'm entitled to feel whatever I am feeling about my grandfather. Now, I'm going to call him and tell him I love him. Goodbye.

And I hung up. I called the hospital and got Grampy himself.

G: Hi darlin'!

me: How's it going, kid?

G: Ok. I'm going to have open heart surgery on Monday or Tuesday. The kidney business is just a thick coating of some sort, so that doctore isn't too concerned. Says we can figure that out after surgery.

me: How are you feeling about all this?

G: Well, darlin', I guess it isn't my time yet although I may pop the doc who put in this pacemaker right in the nose! Low battery? Don't they check these things?! Hahahahaha.

I wanted to kill her. At the very least I wanted to call her back and tell her if she could get off the phone with Keith for A FUCKING MINUTE and fact check before she called me she would have known what was really going on. I'm still pissed today but I didn't call her. And I'm not going to. She has shut people out of our lives ever since I can remember. She is the Queen Mother- of the grudge and the world record keeper for holding them. I am not going to speak to her for a while. I'm going to use caller ID as it's supposed to be used and she can go take a flying fuck at a donut while I try to purge this rage I have inside. Bear and Rio and the doggers really help....

My grandfather is probably going to keep on ticking. Evidently, the time bomb that was niceMother- has finally exploded. We all knew it had to end this way, right?


**On a lighter note, you'll never guess what we got for a hundred bucks and a full head of three color highlights....



Maybe I should have taken the money for doing the highlights, whaddaya think?!

and I'm slippin' into the Twilight Zone...

Truly amazing music came from the '80s and you know it.

Mom arrived on time and watched Rio while I cut and colored some hair. She didn't tweak me again. It is getting harder and harder to deny this nice streak. She isn't seeing her crazy Vemont therapist anymore (and I don't mean that in the nice way, I mean that in the actionable way) and she's not taking the zillion drugs that said crazy therapist used to give her and I really think it's making a difference. Yay for us.

She is still overly emotional and insane so there is THAT to deal with. She called to let me know she'd made it home alright. Honestly, you'd think she had to drive through a real life Mad Max stretch of highway to get home the way she's so always so thrilled to have negotiated her way to safety on I95!

She had stopped and bought a dog book. Pictures and little captions. So, she called, said she'd made it (whew!) and then proceeded to read me the caption that accompanied each and every photograph in the book. Even after I said I could look at it when I visited next. Even after I asked if it was a long book. Even after I gave up and just started talking to Bear while she was reading. She made it all the way through the book and then started crying cuz she misses her dog that has been dead for 4 years. And she has a new one. Sometimes I just think she'd be better off in a nice.safe.place.

Like a sanitarium.

Whatever.

ZZZZZZZZ

So.....Rio slept 6 hours again last night. I swear I have the most perfect baby on the planet. Today we are going to Breastfeeding Consultants. We are going to weigh her before and after to see if she's really getting anything. There will be no pictures of this exercise, regretfully. Oh, it's not that I'm shy. They are top secret there so no cameras, you see.....

Tragedy on the homefront

Bear has poison ivy. If you know of any remedies please send them along because if he continues to bitch about it, I'm going to scrape it off with a big knife.

Thank you.

make room in the trash for all parenting books

Last night Bear slept in the guest room because he has some big meeting today and he can't sleep through this one. Fine, Rio and I head to bed around 10pm. By 11 she is fed, clean and dry and laying next to me in bed. We fall sound asleep playing, which is nice if you haven't done it recently. At 2:30 this morning she woke both of us up fussing around. I do a clock-check. Three hours, okay, she could be hungry.....OR she could sleep for a little bit longer. I roll her up onto my chest and she goes right back to sleep. Until 5:30 this morning!! Yes, six hours of sleep for the nugget. Looks like she'll be on my chest until she crushes the life out of me.

On another note...

I try to keep these 2 up for as long as possible when I see them. Ali, my goddaughter with Rio....



and SamSam The Frying Pan Man, keeping himself entertained.



These kids are so great I can't even explain it. When I found out I was pregnant I called their mother and said, "Ok, write down everything you did with Sam and Ali. I'll need to know it all." I'm still waiting....

Mother's arrival is imminent

And I'm not even concerned. She has been lovely lately so who knows what she's on. We'll see if it lasts. She is all jazzed up because she's back in contact with some dude she was shtupping during her second marriage. He's 15 years younger, divorced now and she's planning a trip. What a trip THAT should be. I don't want to know. So, I'm going to shower and then bathe Rio and wait for Mother to arrive. I'll keep you posted....

my god-daughter

I'm more of a secular god parent and actually, I got upgraded from Fairy Godmother. I almost prefer that.....

Ali and I have traveled these paths before. We were crazy about each other from the first moment we met which was when she was about 18 months old and her mom brought her into my old hair salon for a haircut. She was the worst wiggle worm for years and I am happy and sad that she sits so still now, like a big girl. She is getting ready to go into middle school this year which is big. She has had teachers that were actually threatened by her and I worry for her alot, although she doesn't really need me to. She is the most wonderful bundle of character I know. She is simultaneously incredibly brave and such a little girl. She can be snarky and then blink at you with her giant eyes and you don't mind at all. She is an unbelievable actress. When she is on stage, she is all you want to look at. I have cried at every single one of her plays. When she does her first Burger King commercial, I'll have to quit television... She is very very bright, incredibly witty, beautiful as all hell and special to her core. She makes me wish I was a better person so I never ever let her down.


Rio and her rocker

She likes this, despite the 'I'm so bored with this' face.



She is growing like a weed. Already she is too big for some of her clothes. Too long, to be precise. We are loving her like crazy and she remains perfect. She also remains up all night. I let her sleep on my chest sometimes and everyone says what a bad idea that is. I really don't care. She sleeps. I'll worry about the transition when she's 11 or so. Seriously, she's just too young to leave her crying about sleep when it's so easy for us to find it for her right there on my chest :)

I just found this haiku that I wrote the day after returning from Ocho Rios...it was the day I got pregnant :)

what a vacation!
fun and sun and r and r
but i did miss home

fat folks on the plane
overtook my extra seat
so i could not nap

i was excited
flying in over boston
just a few more hours...

i phone him first thing
i'm supposed to head up north
he says i should go

'i want to see you
i missed you so much, my sweet
didn't you miss me?'

i am a bit sad
i was gone-and forgotten
so i tell him this

'wellllll,' he says slowly
'you know the stuff on my list?
the stuff that you need?

the time really flew
i thought i could get stuff done
sadly, i did not

i will do it ALL!
i will start in the morning
the list will be done!

the molding downstairs
even your messy closet
and the garage door

paint will really fly
the cleaner will be busy
with all of my piles

i will clean the rugs
straighten up the kitchen shelves
even wash the dogs!

kelly is coming
i have yet to make her bed
she will need clean sheets!

that needs to be done
i know how to make a bed
at least, i think so

so-go to vermont
i'm not ready for you here
i got a late start'

so i say to him
'i know you forgot the list
it's ok with me

i'll do the guest room
the rest of the stuff can wait
plus, i miss the dogs'

i can hear him smile
'so what are you waiting for?
get your tan ass home!'

:: the sound of one hand clapping ::

The spell has been broken, for the moment. Rio retired at 11pm after her exhausting day of sleeping only one hour at a time and feeding every two. Whew. Bear hit the door and I only let him get changed before handing the wee one off and crashing like a drunken Kennedy. I slept from 6pm until 11pm and feel much better for it. The big news is Rio slept from 11 until 3:30am. Yippee! And right now she's considering her mobile and laying quietly in,what I hope, is nearing sleep.

Bear got a little taste of what our days can be like. He said he was only able to set her down long enough to whip together a sandwich and she screamed all the while. I remain so thankful she's not a fussy baby in that this behaviour is quite out of the ordinary. If he should encounter this sort of 'don't put me down or I'll reallllly start to fuss' behaviour, here are a couple of tips on how to do things one-handed...

eating
Forget about it. Settle for a glass of water because you can balance the glass on the shelf under the spigot. Use plastic in case the dogs knock it off. That way you can just leave the whole mess on the floor until she DOES nap and then you'll just have to mop and not clean up glass.

You could have crackers, but without cheese cuz it's impossible to spread with one hand. The container scoots all around and you end up dropping it on the floor. See 1st note.

bottle prep
Difficult, at best, with one hand. That is why I was so frigging aggravated with you when I discovered that you had used the last bottle this morning and left me with none prepared. I guess that was my price to pay for the 1.5 hours of sleep I grabbed before you headed to work?!

To check the level of what she's had, place the bottle firmly between your legs and screw the top off, releasing the suction in the liner. This is where you'll be glad that I don't use superhuman force to put the tops on....

bodily functions
I recommend sliding the pants down on the far side of the arm you have free. Some clothes cannot be wrenched down in this fashion and it's best to know that before you get the one easy side down and under one buttcheek.

Wipe however you can. Try not to get anything on the baby.

doorbell
Another thing in the growing list of 'fuck it's. You can't hold the baby, the door and the dogs back all at the same time. So what if the UPS guy hears you talking to Rio and not answering the door? If you do decided to try to answer the door, make certain you've pulled the one easy side of your pants back up after discovering the other side won't budge.


Now, before you all start to think Bear is falling apart under the pressure, well, consider this: he is incredibly resourceful and brilliant. Just last night he got Rio to sleep after a mere 5 hours. Here is the proof:



She fell asleep on a pillow from the couch so he put her in her portable bassinet on the main floor and then when it was time for bed, he simply put the whole shooting match into the crib in our room. Brilliant or what?!

tick tock, around the clock

Rio graced us with smiles, coos and burps every 2 hours since 7 o'clock last night! That means: 9pm, 11pm, 1am, 3am, 5am, 7am, 9am, 11am and most recently- 1pm. She is looking at her mobile while her mom prays she takes a nap. She has been nursing all day in bouts and fits. We're having a lazy-who-cares-what-time-it-is kind of day. Nice.

so sad I don't even know how to say it

My friend MAC called today to find out what happened with a mutual friend. She was due in 3 weeks and lost her baby . The child had been moving around inside her like crazy and then just stopped so she went to the hospital for an ultra-sound on Saturday. The cord had knotted and the baby had died. I don't know why they say 'lost'. The baby was right there, inside her. She delivered a still born because common wisdom says it helps with closure. I say 'horseshit'. Words are not coming because I am so not in the place to even consider something like that. I just held Rio in my lap and didn't mind for a minute that she could be considered 'fussy' today. So we cuddled, I cried, she cooed and we sent the girl and her baby white light for healing and the transition. I'm absolutely sick to my stomach.

If you lose your parents, you're an orphan. If you lose your spouse, you're a widow. If you lose your child it is so awful, there isn't even a word for it. Pray, or do whatever you do, okay?

:: carjackings and other irrational fears ::

Rio and I had our first big adventure. We packed up and headed to Vermont for a midweek break. The intention was tri-fold, as my intentions usually are. First, Bear needed some sleep and he would be able to snooze away with us gone. Secondly, my pals needed someone to house-sit and keep an eye on their 16 year old son. Thirdly, there are dozens of people who hadn't even laid eyes on Rio yet, including my cherished god-daughter.

So, we went on late Sunday afternoon. I won't bore you with the amazing amount of gear that I felt compelled to pack, but let it suffice to say that the back of my new station wagon was jam packed. I fed Rio and then jumped in the car so we could make it to Vermont during her nap.

She didn't wake up until Barre which is 30 minutes from Stowe. I pulled off and parked in a commuter lot, across from a fire department. I have been in the backseat of a car in the dark before, but never has that experience included abject terror. I was breastfeeding her and looking all around and thinking the most awful thoughts about what might happen in the dark in the middle of nowhere at 10 o'clock at night. I had a complete plan for tucking Rio into the footwell, springing out of the car and murdering the unseen boogieman with my keys. Not so relaxing but we made it through our pitstop without incident and I didn't have to murder a single person.

Stowe wasn't bad. I visited with my dear friend Penny and her lovies; daughter Lindsay and grandson Carson. I saw Bobby for a New York second. I went to a pond and watched Carson catch frogs. It was all okay except that my skin was crawling off my body and all I wanted to do was get home. That second. Immediately.

I called the homeowners and explained I had lost my mind and was pretty sure it was at my house in Connecticut. I started to bawl uncontrollably and they were lovely about understanding and making other arrangements. I packed all the stuff back up, and headed home at 8 pm.

I was exhausted on the trip home. I was rubbing Purell on my face to stay alert. I burst into tears about 15 times. I realized I couldn't stop for coffee or go to the bathroom without bringing Rio inside and thus, waking her up. Then I would have to try to find another safe spot for changing and feeding. I had imbibed a couple of Red Bulls so my guts were roiling and I really had to go.

I pulled waaaay over on a shoulder. I got out and walked around to the passenger side, without getting struck by a passing vehicle and thus leaving my baby stranded and alone on the side of the road. Obviously I couldn't go into the woods and leave Rio to be carjacked in my highly desirable Subaru. So I peed next to the car. I had to go so badly that the splash was intense, soaking my sheepskin flipflops and my velour track pants up to the knees. Of course, my feet were drenched in my own urine, as well. I burst into tears for the 16th time, took off my pants and shoes and got back in the car.

I arrived home at 12:30, sobbing with no pants on. Bear seemed happy to see us.

***

So I know I'm not depressed. If one more person says, "Post partum depression" to me, I'll scream. I love my baby and my husband and my dogs and even my messy house. I think I would be able to tell if it were depression although I am sure as shit I'm having some sort of hormonal issue.

I always go a million miles an hour. Multi-task? I invented it when I used to read the New York Times while training myself on the potty. I can take an insane list of 'to do's' and turn it into 'just another busy day'. To be overwhelmed by a little travel and some visiting? Unheard of. But it happened. And I learned my lesson. I don't have post-partum as much as I have 'exhausted post-partum agoraphobia'. I just want to be home where I know where the extra diapers are, I have 3 chairs for breastfeeding with comfy pillows for Rio, I know Bear will be home soon to lend a hand.

I realized I can't do it all and shouldn't try. I am not well-versed enough with the care and feeding of Rio to take the show on the road. Anyone who needs to see her, can visit. And they can put their drink glass in the dishwasher. Yes, this child is changing my life in ways I couldn't have imagined. I'm becoming sensible.

no one said it would be easy. no one said it'd be this hard

People tell me I sound nothing like Sheryl Crow....

Breastfeeding.

I, for one, was blissfully ignorant of the new judgmental hot button issue of the day. I figured; tits, hormones, nature takes over and voila! I don't need no stinking formula. Oh how wrong I was.

I was reading this little gem that made me want to cry and I'm inspired to post instead of folding laundry and waiting for the babe to awaken.

Breastfeeding is rugged. Every Tom, Dick and Harry wants to make you feel like a criminal if you give your baby formula. Formula has become shameful.

I noticed today that it is kept waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay in the back of Babies R Us. Coincidence? I think not.

I see the looks of Those Who Are Successful while I'm cruising Similac. Today I was trying to figure out which was the cheapest way to make the stuff: Ready To Feed, Concentrate, Powder in 3 sizes, Single Servings.... To make matters worse some of the measurements are metric and some are ounces/quarts so figuring it out would have taken a calculator and a conversion chart. All that made worse by TWAS pursing lips and clicking teeth. I felt like an announcement had gone out over the loud speaker:

Lazy and uncaring mother picking out formula needs assistance in aisle 17 waaay in the back. I guess we know who lives under a rock and doesn't know ' breast is best'. Not only has she given up on what her child really needs, she's looking to do it cheaply. Darcy, see if you can help her poison her child, please.She'll probably want to look at polyester crib sheets after that. Easier to clean and iron...

Breastfeeding seems like it should be simple but it is not. There are about a zillion books on how to do it, keep doing it, start up again doing it, why you should do it...ugh. I am trying. I had a breast reduction so I could wear clothing from the same fucking stores on this one body instead of Gap 8 khakis with Lane Bryant 2x tops. So shoot me. Here's what breastfeeding entails for me:

*fenugreek*
I was told a side effect was smelling like maple syrup. In actuality, it makes me smell like a goat that has rolled in maple syrup that was oozing out of a dumpster. AND it gives me ungodly gas that can be heard rumbling in my gut from 8 feet away. Oh, and it didn't work but I was told that I should stay on it while taking the

*metochlopromide*
I don't want to look it up because I don't want to know it was originally used for male pattern baldness or some shit and a side effect was squirty boobies. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. So I take it 3 times a day. My mouth tastes like there is a nickel under my tongue. I have nausea, constipation and diarrhea in alternating bouts, and it feels weird to pee. But the pumping had in fact doubled. Before Rio did her magic trick of nursing I was pumping an astounding 1.5 ounces. That was collected over the entire day. At great physical discomfort with my tits pulled out 2 inches, 34 times a minute. Yes, I count. It helps to keep me from screaming.

*beer*
I drink one a day. That isn't a complaint. It is the only good news I got about all the things I should be doing.....

*fatty foods*
Yup, was told it was vital because breastmilk has a lot of fat and fatty foods will help bring it on. So now I worry that my workouts are sabotaging my milking efforts.

*the solution*
Fuck it. I am eating what appeals as my appetite has been class A-1 shitty since last November. I drink Becks Dark cuz I like it. I am taking the meds through the next cycle and then I'd like to return to a minty fresh mouth and a body that smells of Coco Chanel, not Eau de Goat. Fuck it.Fuck it.Fuck it. Rio is gaining weight, tracking with her eyes, trying to find her mouth with her hand and she makes about 27 really funny faces. She telegraphs when she's pooping and she doesn't seem to hate me at all for giving her Similac. In fact-she chugs that shit. And crosses her hands across her chest and makes cooing noises as the bottle easily slides the nectar down her gullet.

Are we breastfeeding? Yes. Does it make me ridiculously happy? Yes. Is it best for her? Probably. Will I be forced to wear a cutout nipple as a mark of shame when my milk fails, as it inevitably will, when I end the 2nd course of meds? I hope not.

I have nothing against those the people who have mastered and perservered and perfected and whatnot, the Womanly Art of Breastfeeding. I think it is amazing and wonderful. Just try to understand what others go through, ok?

:: the all boobie network ::

All boobies, all the time.

Rio has become a breast-fed baby. Last night we had one marathon session where she had NO FORMULA WHATSOEVER. Who knew?!

Bear knows really great swear words

and he's busting them all OVER the basement. He has a new universal remote that may not be as easy to set up as he may have thought it would be. For example, I was trying to watch a show and he turned the tv off and on and off and on and now I'm blogging because I can't watch the show with volume, although if we turn the TV off the surround sound seems to work fine......

He just caved and called the kid from Circuit City to come over and help. That means I have to go to the packy because he won't take money but he will take a case of beer.

??

Then we're off to BabiesRUs, the bank and the car dealership. I left the EZPass in the car we traded in last week when I joined suburban momhood. Yup, a Subaru Outback is now my ride of choice. With all the gear that it is going to take to get me and Rio to Vermont for a few days...I shoulda gotten a dump truck.

And how is your weekend so far?!

~never say never~

Of course you realize by now that Miss Rio is the embodiment of perfection, yes? Then it will amuse you to know that 'she never spits up' is now a thing of the past. She had her usual 'fussy' time last night. We were up, singing and eating and fooling around and then eating some more. We came upstairs to see if sleep might be in the near future. No. So we went into her room to rock and maybe nurse** some more....

She made the 'I have a burp stuck' screech so I sat her upright for a back pat. She turned her head toward me and shot 4 ounces of formula upside my head. It hit my cheek, neck, upper arm and she was covered too. Surprisingly, not that gross.

Yep, I'm somebody's mom.

**

For the last 2 days Rio has been a breast feeding machine. My pal, CG came over and helped me with some breasty type tips. Rio was being a big showoff and latched on like a lunatic. Well, then she just kept doing it and it seems to agree with her. She's up to an 80% latch rate from a maybe once a day latch rate. We're thrilled. I am happy to report that the feeding prior to the milk bath was primarily formula as I was running a bit low....

I f-ing hate Blogger

Because not only will your long ass terribly witty post be annihilated if you use one of the tempting 'helpers' in the above toolbar, but you will also lose aforementioned post if you try 'control b' for bold. It's like a damned HTML from hell program. Try a shortcut, lose your place in line.

Next, please.

As I WAS saying...

but I've pretty much lost that loving feeling. I was saying that I had a nice time with my mother today. I spent the whole day poised for the attack. The 'I told you so' or the 'I can't believe you're so _____ (insert something pleasant here so I know she didn't KNOW I am smart or capable or whatever doesn't suck)' or the 'I certainly wouldn't dream of doing it that way'.... or the myriad of other slings and barbs she has at the ready.

Nope. Just a nice visit. Yummy totally fattening lunch with lobster and avocado and a bowl of butter and other fat and tasty things. She didn't make me want to cry or scream once. Not once. Unbelievable. AND she gave me this neat ottoman that will go really well in our bedroom and Bear can stop complaining about kicking the wrought iron footstool I'm now using for nursing although it's been there for over a month so why the hell doesn't he just walk around the damned thing because I need to prop my feet to properly rock the wee one...

Uh, see? Her kindness has me all out of sorts.


:: more pictures, you say? ::

I could so tell you were just watching my mouth and not really listening....

:: one month check-up ::

Little Miss Rio is doing very well. She is 21.5 inches long and 8lbs 4.5 oz...

Her doctor is quite pleased with her progress :)

Wowza.

:: COOT ::

Today, kids, something new. I have been finding myself in some interesting outfits of late. Never knowing what time Miss Rio will awaken or for how long she may be among the conscious, well, I've been throwing clothes on in a rather haphazard fashion. At least every couple of days I pass a mirror and think, "WTF"??!! So, on those days when the COOT factor is amuuuuuusing - I'll share.

pink tennis shirt
bear's boxer briefs
pink sheepskin flipflops
*no special jewelry....

Yeah, quite a visual.

mmmmmm

I was in the near dark of our bedroom with our baby sighing on my chest looking at Bear's feet sticking out of the covers when I was struck by how perfect the whole thing is.

i'm a little bit sad

Mike Tyson is all done and, believe it or not, that makes me a little sad. We TIVO'd the fight and just watched it.

Bear said it, "He looks like a little kid". And he did. All stunned and without the bravado he usually displays pre-match. The boy can talk some ridiculous shit. But at the end of round 4, he just looked like a kid who had somehow ended up on his ass.

Of course, just when your humanitarian side is feelin' him, he tries to sneak in a late punch after each round.

What is going to happen to him, I wonder....

~bear rocks the planet~

My friend, Parker, is here for a visit. We have closed the doors to non-performing visitors so those who plan to stay the night should also plan to:

*cook
*clean
*strip their own bed
*watch Rio while I bathe
*watching me bathe is extra....

Parker is amazing. She is helping Bear organize his new office space. We both got booted for the nursery. Mare helped me with mine so now Bear will be set, too. Additionally, our offices are now 3 floors apart so we might actually get something done although I do pine for the good old days of, "I'm sending you this link. Check out this guy's hair!", but we'll live.

Why does Bear rock today? After having me pretty much yell at him for 2 days straight, he decided I need some sleep. We ordered out - pizza - and then he sent me to bed. At 7:45. I was down and out by 8pm. Until the 3am feeding. Seven hours of pretty much uninterrupted sleep. I feel so good right now. I just cleaned the kitchen, put away 2 baskets of laundry, decided what needs to be ironed and then sighed cuz it will never GET ironed, and I'm in front of my computer ready to tackle digital picture organization. I'm going to group, burn to disc and then make a copy of each photo to keep with the discs. Don't you wish you had more pictures of yourself as a child? Our child will grow to know her parents are insane shutter bugs ;)

:: it's amazing what one can tolerate ::

...and for a change I am not talking about my mother...

I talked to BabyBrother today. He still hasn't seen Rio. I'm not sure what's up with that, but I'm sure it is something that could use professional help sorting. *sigh* Anyway. He mentioned that he had finally purchased a new television. I know he watches a ton because he has tinitus and can't bear silence. I asked him why finally and he said:

I've been losing a line of pixels like every other day for months. Last night I was watching a movie I hadn't seen and realized that all heads were completely gone. It freaked me out a little so I got a new tv today.

He's an odd duck, that one.


:: back to work ::

For all of us. Did you go visit MOT yet? This is the last (maybe) unsolicited plug. I saw her today with her man and little men so they're on the brain. I am going to visit this week with my nugget because MOT already knows I'm nuts so if I get stressed out and have to leave after 15 minutes for some bizarre reason she will understand...

Ah, 400 pictures beckon....

::somebody's dad ::





Crazy thing is...I knew exactly what he was doing when I saw the second shot!! Nut...

OH MY GOSH!**

While I was sitting here reading blogs my right breast leaked a drop of milk! I have extra!!!! I have enough that my body doesn't feel the need to hoard! I told you that gush/firehose thing would work out...

And yes, I am naked.

**in an attempt to offset the high content of swear words in my everyday banter, I've decided not to say 'God' anymore. Of course, motherfucker, cocksucker, asswipe, dickhead, et al will continue to color my days and nights....**

...it's been one month since you looked at me...

and then they whipped you out of the room....

Today, the story of Rio and Nita's big day. It might be long, it might bore you, but there might be a boobie picture at the end.

I can't believe you just went straight to the end......

:)

At 12:34 in the early morning of July 2nd I got up to go to the bathroom for the 47th time that day. Pregnancy doesn't leave much room for discussion or extra fluids. I smiled at the clock because I like 1234 o'clock. Not so much 2:34, or even 4:56, although 3:33 makes me smile, too. ???

I tinkled and at the end of that exercise - an extra 'whoosh' from not the peepee place. 'Uh oh' was my only thought.

I got back into bed having read that A. only 15% of women have their water break before pregnancy and B. if you're standing up when the unlikely event happens the head of the baby will stop the flow of liquid. Upon lying down, I realized this was true. Fluid started to pulse out of me at a disconcerting rate.

me: Motherfucker.
bear: Yes dear?

So I called the doc's office, as I'd been prepped. He called right back. Don't go to the hospital until your contractions are 5 minutes apart, he said. They won't feed you, you cannot drink and you become one of those women walking the halls.

bear: Oo, ask him something for me.
me: Ok, doc. Thanks. Hold on a second...
bear: Ask him if I should go back to sleep.
me: He says you're a fucking moron and sleep won't help that.

Pretty quickly they started being regular. There is a ton of silliness with Bear but I'll have to hit the high points.

me: Did you time that one?
bear: Time it? No! You really need to tell me when they start.
me: ??? Ok, dickhead, when I gasp and pant and look like someone has kicked me in the box - IT HAS STARTED.
bear: Ok, fiiiine.

I had to get up and pack my bag because I hadn't done so already. That kind of sucked because you have to know who is not a great big help when it comes to packing....



*hey, if he's going to take 47 stupid pictures of himself making idiotic faces, I feel compelled to publish at least one*

We headed for the hospital and already the contractions were coming harder and faster. Bear dropped me at the emergency door and the nice giant man took me right to the check in while Bear parked. I was pacing back and forth, giving information and having contractions now just shy of 4 minutes apart. Bear rushed in and collapsed in the wheelchair that had been provided for my comfort.

Upstairs. Contractions are getting pretty intense. Bear calls Mare. Mare is my best friend who was slated to be in the birthing room (?!) with us. Mostly in case Bear fainted. Also, if I needed anything and he was on one of his little mental vacations... So, Mare and Mighty live in Vermont but that night they happened to be in NYC, having dinner after Mighty had a gig. They headed right for the hospital. Of course, they had to bribe the garage guy to get their car out, but that's another story altogether...

A nice nurse tries 3 times to start an IV. She says she never ever doesn't get a vein after the 2nd try. After her unprecedented unsuccessful, yet painful, third try she went to get an old school nurse who had me all IV'ed up in 30 seconds AND gpt blood from the other arm. She rocked. And she was a little scary. We discussed pain options. I say I already had plenty. She silently recommended an epidural. It was 3am, contractions were 3 minutes apart and I was 6 centimeters dilated already.

Bring on the man with the needle, I scream.

He was tied up in surgery. When he got there my contractions were 2 minutes apart and I wondered how/why in the hell women do this with no meds. I'm relatively tough. I played field hockey and rugby. I have broken bones. I have been tough through pain. This sets a new record for 'holyfuckingshitthishurtslikehell'.

Dr Happygas arrives. He is hot. Really hot. Africa hot. He looked me in the eye and said:

This is going to hurt. Quite a lot. I will be inserting a needle into your spine. I can't do it between contractions so you're going to have to hold still through them. It is very important that you do.not.move.

Fabulous. So I'm draped over Nurse Cannotfindavein. I held absolutely still while he shoved a needle into my spinal cord while I had 2 contractions. Marion and Mighty had arrived from NYC. She is a DJ who is on after Howard Stern. She said I sounded like Taylor Rain, who is a loud porn star to whom Blogger won't let me post a link!! That is not why Rio's middle name is Taylor, although it's a little funny....So, Dr Happygas got the epidural in and tild me it wouldn't be long until I felt some relief. I am in ungodly agony so this is good news.

dh: How tall are you?
me: I'm lying down, right? I'm 5'9".
bear: Hon, he's trying to calculate your dosage. Quit lying.

The magic juice kicked in and I am happy once again. I offered to kiss DH for his obvious genius and the great need for him on the planet, but he politely tells me it was nothing. I laid around and waited to dilate.

At 11:30 my fabulous doctor came in to check on me. He's been in surgery and he seemed a little tense.

me: Hi doc. How are you? Well rested? You can lay down with me if you need a break before we get rolling here.
doc: No, I'm fine. Just got out of surgery.
me: How was it?
doc: Weird.
me: Weird? Weird? What's weird?
doc: Ovarian cyst but with hair and teeth. *shakes head* Weird.

Yeah, so....I'll skip a bunch of parts here in the interest of brevity....

Push, push, push. Three groups of 3. Rio's vitals were all over the place but that didn't seem to worry anyone. Yet. When her head started to appear he told me he's going to put a monitor on it. Fine with me, I gasp.

Here's where it gets all kinds of funky. The monitor goes on and the room just changes somehow. Another not so hot anesthesiologist comes and and starts asking me questions about smoking, drinking and false teeth. WTF? The nurses shoo him a bit and I ask them if he's got a friggin' quota or something. Then I look to the right and there are 2 nurses from NICU and the NICU doctor with a special table. I know something's up but no one is talking.

nurse on left leg: Push, you're doing great.
me: No I'm not. Something's wrong. I can't push.
nurse on right leg: You're doing great. One more big one
me: *crying now* You're lying. What's happening? I'm not pushiiiiinnnnngggggg......

Doc pops a vacuum on her head, orders me to push and on the 4th set of 3 pushes, she is out.

I wait to hear her cry. Nothing. I look at her little body. Blue and still. Then, the littlest peep from my nugget. They show her to me and whip the special table out of the room. I order Bear to stay with the baby. Certain things you don't want to lose.

***

Something was up. After the monitor was placed on her head it became apparent that she was in real distress. When I looked around at all the extra people and then looked back at my 'team', they had splash shields on and not so relaxed faces. They got her out quickly, and naturally. There was blood absolutely everywhere. All the machines were covered, as was the floor, my bed and the trail of the wheels from the cart that had just spirited my infant away from me.

I can't wait to get the whole story from my doctor.

Rio was whisked away and Bear took her picture in the NICU so I could see what she looked like.



"Here's your baby," he said.
I cried.

stay tuned for scenes from NeoNatal Intensive Care....right now I'm just going to go watch her breath....

~sometimes Blogger makes me crazy AND an informal poll~

I had to delete 17 copies of the next post. Individually. Evidently, Blogger found it so fascinating it felt compelled to publish it over and over and over...

JenB made a terribly witty comment that is lost forever.....

And now for the poll:

Do you follow the links in a post? Lemme know cuz I certainly don't want to bog you down with minutiae....

I've made a decision

I'm not going to pump anymore. I'm going to wait for the milk to come spraying out of me like a firehose. I'll let you know how it goes....

:: the gift that keeps on giving ::

bear to uncle cracker: Yeah, so, you know Nita's unconventional, right? She didn't want jewelry or a fur coat as a traditional 'wife just had a baby' present. She wants a trainer to come to the house. So, I just hired a ripped black man to come and hang out with my wife in our basement twice a week......

My man rocks! I am meeting Marvin tomorrow. I'll see if he lets me take a picture...

:: on the boobie front ::

Still not working that well. My nipples hurt from their tender tips right back to my shoulder blades. I'm trying to hard to make this work but I'm definitely getting discouraged. Ugh.

If I could figure out how to load a movie onto here I'd film the milking process just for shits and giggles. You would not believe this machine and what it does to my body. Well, jenandtonic.ca would, but she's evidently some sort of saint!

Over and out.

that's why they're funbags, not functional bags....

I am so frustrated that I'm not even pissy about it anymore. I am taking the drug AND the herbal supplement to make milk spring forth from my breasts. I am pumping with alarming frequency, to the point where my nipples are sore all the way back to my shoulder blades. I am gathering these breast milk droplets like a shipwrecked sailor gathers fresh water from jungle foliage. All this and my child prefers a bottle.

Luckily, she is perfect and lovely and evidently she would be awake EVEN MORE OFTEN if solely breastfed. And now, it's off to bed until 6 when Bear will be getting up to get ready for work. One of the guys told him that work would suddenly become very relaxing. He knows what he's talking about. I do love staying home with her, though. A whole new world that is different and amazing every day. All that and she doesn't really have cognitive powers yet! The best is yet to come.

I gotta get some rest. More photos tomorrow....

*sigh*

I got really good sleep last night after 'Librarian BJ', enough said. I slept for more than 6 hours. I've eaten as much as a Marine for the last few days - if that means a lot and tons of protein - and downed enough water to affect precipitation levels worldwide.

And then I pumped less than 1/4 ounce of breast milk.

I start the big gun meds today. We'll see how this works out. I am demoralized and ever so slightly missing my old gigantic-crazyhuge-outofproportion breasts.

*sigh*

Borrowed from Mare

Last but not least
# Last Cigarette .. I quit with Bear about 4 years ago?!
# Last Alcoholic Drink .. Newcastle last night
# Last Good Cry ..holding Rio and listening to Bono's Kite knowing it was to a parent about the parent child relationship...
# Last Bad Cry .. 2 days ago because of mom
# Last Library Book .. Water Witches, overdue, still owe them 20 cents
# Last book bought .. Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child (what is happening to me?!)
# Last Book Read .. Artemisia
# Last Movie Seen in Theatres .. pretty sure it was a silent moving picture...
# Last Movie Rented .. Stuck on You. Hilarious!
# Last Cuss Word Uttered .. cocksucker
# Last Beverage Drank .. water
# Last Food Consumed .. spicy scallop roll
# Last Crush .. Joshua Jackson of Dawson's Creek insanity
# Last Phone Call .. Breastfeeding Consultants
# Last TV Show Watched .. Last Comic Standing
# Last Time Showered .. uh, 2 days ago?
# Last Shoes Worn .. Nike Shox - good for dog kickin'
# Last CD Played .. U2 All That You Can't Leave Behind
# Last Item Bought .. awesome platform shoes
# Last Download .. don't download
# Last Annoyance .. getting attacked by the dog this morning
# Last Disappointment .. breast feeding/pumping
# Last Soda Drank .. Coke
# Last Thing Written .. thank you notes
# Last Key Used .. '.' ..
# Last Words Spoken .. is she sleeping?
# Last Sleep .. sleep? explain..
# Last Ice Cream Eaten .. Wentworth's Mint Chocolate Chip
# Last Chair Sat .. my special corduroy chair for pumping
# Last Webpage Visited .. Google for 'kite' lyrics


Rio's 3 week check-up went famously. She's gaining weight and growing and having lots of alert time so I think she's learning new things. She recognizes my voice and Bear's voice and gets a little plumper every day. She's filling in her skin so she is looking more like a baby and less like a plucked chicken ;)

I really like being her mom.

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My body is a wonderland...

...as in, I wonder what the hell is going to happen next.

The lactation appointment was a superlative experience of support. The woman remarked on my great instincts with Rio, my ability to calm her, and how my common sense approach should benefit us both. Bravo. The whole BFAR (breast feeding after reduction) issue could have its own blog so I don't wish to labor the point. Let it suffice to say I have a plan and I'm hooked up to a milking machine for a good chunk of the day.

::last night::

me: Honey, could you help me with pumping one breast while Rio is crashed out here?

bear: Um, ok, I guess it could be sexy.

Always thinking, that man of mine.

My mom face must be a little bit scary

As I was pulling into the parking lot of the breastfeeding support place, I had a little incident. First of all, I was all keyed up because Mapquest gave me the most shitass directions on earth so I was driving around in circles just trying to find the place and be only mildly late. It suggested the wrong way down a one way street. Always fucking handy.

I get into the parking lot and some woman in a giant Ford Expedition comes whipping backwards out of one spot so she can get her fat ass closer to the building by parking one row closer. I frantically try to get the car into reverse, succeed in finding Park, and lay on my horn. She stopped approximately 3 centimeters (if that is a small amount of distance) from the front of my car. Then she reparked and sat in her car. I glowered at her and parked under the shade of some trees. I kept looking at her sitting in her car while I was getting Rio out of her fucking-a-impossible-to-negotiate carseat. Still she sits. I was waiting to shout something about just cuz she drives a tank doesn't mean she can drive over people. Well, evidently my ire was sparking off my head because she locked her doors and sat in her car like she was afraid to get out. Good instinct. Idiot.

Bear asked what I would have done if she'd hit me. "Beat her up" was my response. "Nice" was his....

WTF?

Yeah, I'm still up. Actually, I don't sleep at all anymore and I'm pretty sure I'm bitchy....

Here is a picture of Jack, Hobbes right behind him, trying to get to Rio so he can lick her mouth. That child will have the immune system of the century.




is it just me....

Or is this child sooooooo delicious? Ok, I have to go bathe her. No pee this time, just going to see doctors tomorrow and I don't need any judgemental sniffs just cuz she's covered in milk and formula. Maybe I'm not the messy feeder, you ever think of that?

Yeah, I could use some shut-eye....

*sigh*

Tomorrow morning I'm going to see a lactation consultant. I had a breast reduction about 9 years ago. It was far and away the best thing I have ever done. I feel great and, at 39, have no real use for bras unless they add a decorative element.

I was big. Big like you read about. Big as in when I went to a club people thought I was a stripper. Big as in when I lived in Florida a man approached me to be in a David Lee Roth video. Big as in women stared and made catty comments. Big.

(final consultation with my plastic surgeon who is accompanied, with my permission, by Doogie Houser, boy doctor in training.)

doc: Here is where we make the incision. I will try to preserve as much of the gland work so you will be able to breast feed, if you choose.

me: Hell, doc, I don't really care if you lose a nipple in the OR and only put one back on. Make. These. A. LOT. Smaller.

doc: Har har har. (Begins to share info with Doogie.) This is the blah blah and we'll be doing blah blah. (He has one of my breasts in his hand and is gesturing with a pointer thing while the youngster makes a serious face and sagely nods his head.)

me: (tiring of invisibility) Ah, wouldn't you guys be more comfortable doing this in the back of a car somewhere?

The poor boy turned purple and I was just happy to be in the company of qualified medical help if he should go down. After that - zero eye contact and he maintained his blush. I knew his type. All clean cut and preppy and when he gets loaded on Heineken at the frat house his type walks up to girls like me and offers to 'buy the boys a drink.' Yeah, take that.

Really quickly...

cuz the nugget is asleep on my chest :)

big bath. i did a great job, if you ask me........ plus she no longer smells like pee..... anyone know how often you're supposed to bathe a baby, cuz my mother is insisting she bathed us twice a day? well, i'm good and dirty now :)



and i'm not sure if she likes her 'symphony in motion'...... the bugs are a little strange but it was highly recommended.

I wish I had more friends in France

Because it would be okay to call them right now, being 9 am and all that :)

We did it. Well, at least tonight we did. For Rio's 1:30 feeding I 'put her to breast' as I always do. But tonight - magic. She was on one side for 30 whole productive lip smacking swallowing minutes and 10 on the other. Still took 40ml of formula (sad mom face here) but it was huge progress. Is it possible that she's only just a week old today?! She's so fricken brilliant already.

Ok, looks like I can get 2 hours sleep if I'm quick about it.

Hard to explain all the issues this breast feeding has brought up. Let it suffice to say I'm incredibly ecstatic and had to tell SOMEONE!!!

BUSTING OUT



Typing with the wee one asleep in my lap so this'll be quick.

She was 19 days early. Little immature, some probs with O2 saturation levels so .... they kept her in NICU. Wonderful nurses. I was there pretty much 24/7, feeding, changing, holding her. Had to make the call to suppliment with formula. She's simply too young too nurse and with my breast reduction...well, we're working it all out. I'm pumping and feeding and bottling and not sleeping at all. AND I don't much care. I'm on fire. I feel like I could go like this for years.....but I did get a good sleep the other night which helps.

wait...this just in....



Bear likes it when she lies like this. Says she looks like she's operating an old fashioned radio...whaddaya think?!

So, we're all great. I'm tired, have actually yelled at my husband, then had a meltdown, now we're both feeling better. Lots to learn. The time in NICU was actually great cuz I got to know the nurses and docs and I got LOADS of insight and advice. I can't explain how it feels, my heart has blown open and I love this one week old bundle of joy like crazy. Bear and I have new-found appreciation for one another, too. Lots to be thankful for, and I am.

but feel free to hate me now....

Uh, yeah. So my peasant stock (halfish straight up wasp, halfish mexican) really rose to the occasion. Despite my 'advanced maternal age' my pregnancy was a snap. Sick for 5 months but not too...gained 20 pounds and have lost 18!!! And no stretch marks. And I pushed for *one hour* and then had the bundle of joy.

Scary story about the actual birth but that will have to wait. Almost time for the chitlin to be awakened for her 8 am snicky-snack.

Wowza.

IT'S A GIRL!!!!!!!!
Rio was born at 1:31 PM on Friday, July 2nd. We're all really tired but really, really happy...

More pics on the way - stay tuned!



Nita and Rio 

uh, yeah....

The baby's room isn't quite finished. I haven't packed everything that goes in my bag. My roots could use doing. The house is kind of a wreck and at 12:34 my water broke.

me: Motherfucker!
bear: Yes??????

So, you may not hear from us for a bit but I should have good news then....

Single White Female

Bond Girl has inspired me to post about something completely non pregnancy related. Evil Roommates.

I had to have had the WORST run of luck with roommates ever. Here are a few high/low lights....

Leslie
I was living in Providence and she and I worked in the same bar. She needed a place on the fly (duh! warning! warning! don't forget to ask why she's getting booted from her best friend's place!) so I let her move into my very cool 2 bedroom place. Right from the start I noticed she drank a LOT more than I realized and did a LOT more drugs that I knew the names of and had a LOT more legal problems than anyone else and slept with a LOT more strangers than seemed prudent....you get the picture. Well, the coup de grace came at about 3 am one night when I'm lying in bed with my giant (and chickenshit) body builder boyfriend and we hear Leslie coming up the stairs. Loud. Drunk. And with a man in tow. Clear as a bell I hear her say:

"I don't have any blow but my roomie usually has some laying around."

WHAT?

So I throw on a shirt, chickenshit boyfriend refusing to get up, and go out into the kitchen where Leslie is bent over in front of the refridgerator and a COP IN UNIFORM IS BENT OVER BEHIND HER. I am incredulous! So the conversation goes like this:

me: What the fuck is going on here?

(Leslie keeps her head in the fridge, all wrapped up in the task of trying to get a beer out of the six pack holder.)

cop: Uh, I was just making sure she got home alright.

me: Reaaaalllly Officer Friendly. Well, I can't help but notice that you have allowed my obviously drunken roommate here to pilot her unregistered car home, drunk, and I'm fairly certain her license is STILL suspended, yes? Where exactly did you two meet up, ( I peer at his badge number and name plate) Officer Dumbass?

cop: Yeah, I was just leaving.

me: That's what I thought, shithead.

That was the last straw. The next day when she went to work I had the locks changed and brought a bag of clothing and toiletries down to the club for her and booted her ass. Here's where it gets interesting....

Things I never wanted to know about Leslie that I learned whilst searching for her work clothes.

Her room was always pretty neat. I opened the walk-in closet and it was literally to the ceiling piled with clothes, porn and sex toys. Packed like a crazy person had packed it. THEN I found out where all the knives in the house had gone, they were in her drawers and under her bed. One of said drawers was chock full of men's underwear. All different sorts, apparently all worn. What a head case.

Years later I was in Palm Beach lunching with my grandparents and she was waitressing at the place.

She did a double take and headed for our table.

L: Hiiiiii!

me: I'll have a coke, thank you.

L: Don't you recognize me?

me: Who could forget? You're not our server, are you?

L: It's so great to see you! You look greaaaaaat! What are you up to?

me: Having lunch. Gram, would you like iced tea?

After she finally left the table I told my grandparents we were leaving after the drink. She's that fucking bananas.

Her replacement, Tricia.

I figured Tricia would be a safe bet seeing that she was dating the brother of my big dumb BF. Wrongo! She was a drunk slut as well. Yippee.

For some reason my friends all think I'm some sort of medical genius because I'm ever so slightly on THE SAFE SIDE... so she comes into my bedroom in the middle of the night. I'm up, by the way, because she is screaming at the top of her lungs. Really belting it out. Ridiculous, really. I'm no prude, but she sounded like she was being murdered. Anyway, she comes into my room:

T: Are you awake?

me: Are you fucking kidding me?!

T: Robert (who we work with!!!) just stuck it up my ass by mistake.

me: (after a long pause) And what, you want me to say something to him?!

T: No, but you could you just check it out to make sure I'm ok down there?

me: Ah, no.


Another of her habits was multiple partners that evidently had more appeal if they were complete strangers. So.....my mother is visiting. I am on the couch and mom is in my room. Tricia, who I begged for a 2 night reprieve, brings home 2 giant strangers, as unlikely as this may seem, one black and one red headed dude. Let the games begin. Three voices can be heard. Loudly.

I'm laying on the couch in those weird hysterical giggles waiting for my mother to be awakened. Sure enough, she comes out of my bedroom with her suitcase and informs me we're going to a hotel. Funny stuff.

Jamie

Name changed to protect those who can be googled.....

She was a well known ski racer. We were all at my place and she was crying about what an asshole her BF was and how she had to get out. All of the sudden everyone looks at me with the 'you've got a 2 bedroom place, how about here?' look and I know I'm sunk again. This time I am smart. This time I set boundaries. No rent and she had to be out in 6 weeks. Fair, right?

Ok, she wore my clothes. She never took a message, not once. She was a pig. She flooded the toilet by flushing fucking PADS. Who the hell is that stupid? She was a complete nightmare. Her coup de grace? I had to get out of town for a few days before I killed her. I got a phone call about the fabulous party she had the minute I left the house. When I got back 3 days later she was sitting at the kitchen table in what had previously been a gorgeous place to live. It was trashed like high-schoolers had been there. Turns out, they had. She was sitting there smoking a cigarette and flicking the ashes into my great-grandmother's mother fucking sugar bowl!!!! and she said:

J: Hey! How was your weekend?

me: J, if you don't get your ass and your shit out of here in 3 hours I will throw you out the window and burn your belongings.

J: Cool.

There are at least 10 other people this bad but I have to cook dinner for Bear. Chicken Parmigiana ;) I love my home.

Um, I'm feeling a little better....

But thanks for the good words :)

Early morning business trips after further funk (sorry BS)

Bear had to get up at 4:30 to leave for a day trip so of course we were up til 10 or so wearing out the sheets. After we were done I started cracking up. "We really are freaks, you know" I said. "I suspected as much," was his reply. Anyway.... He really should just go the night before and get away from his wife like everyone else does, but he'd rather sleep with us. Yea! Additionally, it was no problem to get him up and on the road on time SEEING THAT I'VE BEEN UP SINCE 2 AM. Another banner day for expectancy. I did manage to:
-pack him a snack bag for the trip
-repackage the pasta salad I made last night
-clean my salondry* room
-iron 5 shirts
-do 2 loads of laundry
-watch an EXCELLENT X-Files and I caught the highly recommended 'Aqua Teen Hunger Force' cartoon. Truly bizarre but I suspect I'm hooked. Oh bother, as Pooh would say....

So at least I was productive wandering about the house AND I did get a little nap after Bear departed this morning. Jack woke me up doing the cutest little yip barks in his sleep. He would be so embarrassed!

Remind me to brag about my god-daughter later

She is a pillar of strength with an extraordinaryly low give-a-shit-level and when I grow up, I want to be just like her. More to follow....