Birthday Season

As I said the other day, we're in the midst of Birthday Season here.  Today is Pippo's birthday.  AKA The Pipster.  I can't believe that he's 13 years old today!  He's not the boy you might envision when you think "13? Ugh!"  He's fresh-faced and sweet; funny and adventurous.  I love having him around!

 He's wearing his new Dalek hat that I knitted from this pattern.   It doesn't fit very well, and I eliminated the Tardises from the top of the pattern in the interest of time.  I promised I would knit him another one (now that I don't have to hide it!) that fits better.  I'll use the directions from another toque pattern that works much better.

Making a wish--probably for snow--because we already celebrated last night.  The boys have Boy Scouts tonight and he didn't want to be gypped out of his celebration.  His cake is frosted with caramel frosting from the Cake Doctor cookbook, in case you were wondering. Then he dusted it with powdered sugar.

Successfully blew out all the candles!

~~~~~

Here's a picture of Tom receiving another present, the day after his birthday, from the Amazon man.  It's a book of piano music by a composer he likes.  He read my blog on his big day, looking for a birthday post, and was slightly mortified by my comment about the number of birthdays in January.  Lol.  And I didn't even talk about how great he is.  Bad Mom!

Let me tell you:  he is great.  He's smart and funny, sensitive and easy-going.  I love having him around, too.

~~~~

My children are such a blessing.  I never in my life imagined having 6 children.  I never imagined having 4 boys---they were such a foreign concept to me!  I can't imagine my life without a single one of them.  My daughter got mad at me (I think she was kidding) for calling Tom "the best" on his FB page, but I didn't mean it in the respect that he's the best of my children, just that he's the best Tom.  They're all the best!  It's weird to say that I love them all equally, because I don't think you can quantify love, but I love them all in different ways for their different qualities and personalities.  

Even though I was young and inexperienced and not very wise when I had 2 children, I could see that the Catholic Church's respect for Life was very important.  I think that's the single biggest thing that drew me into the Church; I wanted to be in a place that accepted my children as the gifts they are.

Books and Babes

Today I hosted our monthly book club with some girlfriends.  It was my first time hosting since I joined and it was a lot of fun, just as it is every time I go.  Some of these women are homeschoolers that I've known for a while, others are new friends that I've met through the book club.

The Book of the Month for June was Baby Catcher by Peggy Vincent, Chronicles of a Modern Midwife.  Now, a book like that naturally lends itself to rather intimate conversation and stories of birth.  We had lots to say, about the book and about ourselves.  And it wasn't just this book; every book we read leads to conversations about ourselves.  In fact, I'd bet that for each session, which lasts 3-3.5 hours, we spend maybe 1 hour talking about the book, and the rest of the time just talking.  It's a very chatty group!

One of the themes of today's discussion was the necessity for female support during childbirth.  It's great that husbands are there now, and they have their place, but there is no substitute for another woman or two who can support you in ways your husband can't.  Of course, of course, there are some great husbands who are amazing in the birthing room, and then there are the others who probably haven't a clue how to help.  I loved having my husband with me, but it was my midwife, who knew how and when to touch me without getting yelled at!

That led to further discussion on the necessity for feminine companionship in our daily lives.  We all seem to be so isolated today with all our busy-ness.  We spend all day in the car, driving kids around, but how often do we get together with our women friends?  I don't even talk on the phone as much as I used to when the kids were little.  That is why I love this book club so much.  It's the highlight of the month for me!  And I think that's why we stay and...ahem..."cackle" for so many hours.  We're all desperate for that woman-to-woman conversation.

I can only imagine what it was like when backyards were side-by-side and neighbors might be chatting over the fence while hanging out the wash to dry.  Or spending a couple of hours as the laundromat with the other ladies once a week.  Or walking to the park so the kids can swing and visiting with the neighbors there.  We almost all have washers and dryers in the house; our swings are in the backyard.  There are no sidewalks in the neighborhoods.  There's no need to have a quilting bee to outfit a new bride's home.  We don't have to help build a barn or a house.  It's so hard to find a community these days!  Now I might be a little more isolated because my kids don't go to school with the neighbors, but I don't think so.  I've heard other neighbors say that they don't see anyone until the pool opens in the spring.

I think we've lost something very important in our modern society, and I'm loving this book club because it gives me an opportunity to connect with other women.  Not just to cackle, but to also have intelligent conversation about the book we read (some of which are more intellectual than others).

How do you connect with other women?  When do you connect with other women?  Or are you lonely, too?

My Epiphany Baby

It's time for bed; it has been a busy day preparing for this birthday, another birthday, and homeschooling, but I hate to hit the hay without a little bloggy birthday wish for my sweet Tom!

It was 15 years ago today when the snow started falling at 11 a.m. and kept falling all day.  Just about this time, 10:05 p.m. we were admiring our beautiful new baby when Dh went to answer the door and let the midwife in!  

I can't believe it has been 15 years and he's so big now.

Happy Birthday, Thomas Maximilian

(He has big shoes to fill with those 2 names.)

Happy Day!

Another birthday was yesterday.  This time it was for our Little Pink Princess who turned 8 years old!

Where does the time go?

No heart-warming birth story for this one.  It was long and drawn-out and I felt used and violated by the time it was over because of the midwife (not the same one as last time).  I can't even tell the story without getting angry all over again, even though I have prayed many times over the years to be at peace about it and forgive.

I think it's a major reason why LP is my baby and there are no others.

All that aside, she wants to grow up and do things, but she still wants to be my baby and have me sing to her at night.  I'm happy to get to cuddle her for a while longer!

Happy Birthday, Sweetie!

Happy Day! part II

Just to wrap up the story of Pipster's birthday....

It's pretty amazing how easy his birth was once I got that teeny little boost of pitocin and he was born in one push.  The midwife was every bit as good at catching the football  baby as Dh had been.  Everything looked good as they got me back to the bed and Pipster latched on to nurse.

The lights were dim in the room as he tried to nurse.  He was latching on well, but then he began making funny noises that I'd never heard before.  I didn't think his color looked good either, but  no one seemed to notice until I finally took him off the breast and made them turn on the lights so we could see that he was actually blue and the sound was grunting because he couldn't breathe through his underdeveloped lungs!

As Dh put it, the SWAT team came running in then and controlled chaos ensued.  My sweet little baby was examined, given a bottle to see if he could coordinate sucking and swallowing, and finally returned to me much later.  To my dismay, he started grunting again while nursing, so they took him away again and gave him another bottle.

You know what they say?  The third time's the charm?  After he tried to nurse a third time and started grunting again, they blamed the breastfeeding and took him away to the NICU.   He was the biggest baby in the NICU, and we spent 8 days there on the C-Pap, pumping, sleep testing, and I don't know what else.  He wasn't allowed to nurse for 3 days because he always had trouble breathing while trying.  I know that doesn't seem like a long time to wait for moms whose babies have been in NICU for much longer periods of time, but every day apart is a trial for mom and baby.

I'm thankful for those early attempts at nursing even though they seemed to cause breathing difficulties, because he was already imprinted at the breast and when we were finally given the go-ahead to try again, he remembered how in spite of the bottles.

Pip was finally discharged after 8 days and we got to take him home along with a heart rate monitor/alarm since he also had sleep apnea.  The monitor was our friend for 8 long months until he went a certain length of time without any alarms.  We were very fortunate that the infant CPR training I'd had was never needed because the alarm itself always startled him back into breathing.

Nursing was never a problem after those few days in the hospital!  Pip chunked right up and was quite the luscious little lump.  It was always very strange to label him "premature" and see him attached to the heart monitor.  You'd never think he might have had a rough start as a baby since he's always tearing around, making noise, or breaking something (of his own or someone else's)!

Pip brings such joy to our home.  I don't know how we could live without him!  He is so full of life that I look forward to seeing what kind of man he will grow into.

Happy 11th Birthday, Pip!

We love you

even if I did put only 10 candles on your birthday cake!

Happy Day!

January, 3 years later, we were living in the north Georgia suburbs, and it was definitely NOT snowing as I waddle  strolled up to my neighbor's house, 3 doors away, to help the new mom with a breastfeeding question.  This baby was not due until February 2, but I was wondering how I'd ever  make it.  Oh, I had no doubts that I would, but it would be a painful 3 weeks!

A couple of days later, I awoke suddenly in the middle of the night thinking I wet the bed.  Does that ever happen to adults who aren't pregnant women?  Naturally, I went to the bathroom, but I still wasn't sure what happened, so I went back to the bed.

"Don?"  I said softly.

Now the MoW is instantly awake since I used his name and not one of our many terms of endearment!

"I think my water broke!"  A thing that has never happened in the history of my childbearing years!  I hadn't had any contractions yet, so we decided to wait until morning to call the midwife.  I think must have been 3:30 a.m. when all this started.  No home birth was planned this time around as we were in Georgia where the laws are different and I wasn't comfortable with the options, yet I was not about to go to the hospital until I was having good labor.

Alas, that didn't happen.  When we called the midwife in the morning she encouraged me to come to the hospital anyway because it was very likely that an infection caused my water to break 3 weeks early and I would require IV antibiotics.  You know, "3 weeks early" is an interesting phrase.  At 37 weeks, my old midwife Nancy would have delivered me at home, but I was 36 weeks and 6 days, where she would have required me to go to the hospital.  At the hospital, they continually said I was 4 weeks premature.  Interesting.

Contractions did eventually start, but stopped immediately upon arrival at the hospital.  I cried because I didn't want to be there.  Hospitals scare me! (I really want to change that to "scared", but I'm not sure I'm there yet!)  We puttered along all day, gradually calming down and dilating more.  Eventually, my very nice midwife was concerned that things were moving far to slowly and we should think about pitocin.    Considering the fact that I'm an avid homebirther, I was less than thrilled about this option, but believe you me, we tried all the natural ways we could to get labor moving before I agreed to it!  Nothing worked.  I made my midwife promise to give me as little pitocin as possible.  Just what was needed to get things moving.

She agreed.  I forget the dear woman's name, but she said afterward that she gave me a tiny amount of pitocin, so small it's unheard of, and it worked!  I could handle the contractions and she never needed to bump it up.  Gosh, I think that it was around 7 p.m. when I got the "pit" and then things started happening.

I went from 3 to 8 pretty quickly, but I still wasn't there and it was getting hard.  She checked me when I thought I was feeling an urge to push, but I was still just 8 cm.  Wanting to make a visit to the bathroom, they helped me up and as my feet hit the floor I had a huge contraction and when I got there, I announced that the baby was coming!

Of course, they didn't believe me.  8cm to 10 cm in one contraction.

Of course, they wanted me to walk back to the bed when they saw I was right.

Of course, I said, uh, No, I'm staying here.

So, again, standing in the bathroom, I gave birth to my little Pipster.  7 lbs. 11 oz.  at 4 weeks early (or is it 3?)

~~~~

I'm going to have to leave you there and finish the saga later.  There's lots more to tell and I have a cake to frost before Mass!

14 Years Ago Today

The Feast of the Epiphany, January 6, 1996, was quiet around our house.  Since I was in the RCIA program in preparation for coming into the Catholic Church at Easter, we didn't know alot about celebrating this day.

It started to snow in Richmond around 11 a.m. and my mom called from Northern Virginia to say that she was on her way or she wouldn't be able to be there for the birth of her 7th grandchild (my 4th).  I wasn't in labor, but I was already 4 days overdue and 6-7 cm. dilated.  I called my midwife to see if she wanted to come over  to break my water and induce labor since we were planning a homebirth, but she said that she had 4-wheel drive and she wasn't worried about my baby and we could just wait.

Well, it continued to snow all day long; mom arrived safely and we settled in for a cozy evening.  I'm not sure how much snow we had by the end of the day, but it must have been 4-6 inches.  I put the 3 children to bed and I remember going to sit back down on the sofa to watch tv with Dh and Mom when I had a huge contraction.  It was very uncomfortable, but I had been having so much false labor that I was frustrated.  Taking the advice of my wonderful midwife who had attended my 2 previous home births, I went upstairs to take a long, hot bath to relieve the contractions.  I was stopped on the stairs by another strong contraction (how close were those?! 2 minutes?) which only served to frustrate me further.  During my long soak there were no noticeable contractions which made me think that it had been more false labor.

Getting out of the tub a good half-hour later, I started trembling violently (which dh attributed to being cold after the bath) and had another contraction.  I called Nancy, my midwife, to tell her that I wanted her to come break my water because I was tired of the false labor, but she seemed to think I was already in labor.  She asked how long it had been since I had that first contraction....



crickets chirping....


When I couldn't answer her question immediately, she knew I was in transition and that in all likelihood she wouldn't be there for the birth.  Hanging up the phone, we prepared the room for birth while Mom boiled some water, and I spent my time in the bathroom (ahem) where I immediately told dh that the baby was coming.  He said No way, Nancy's not here yet!

But yes, dear, there's that unmistakeable feeling of a baby moving down into the birth canal.

At this point, I was in control (Nancy had had me study up on Emergency Childbirth!), which was a good thing because my dear husband and mother were a bit frazzled by the thought that they would be delivering this baby!  A little comedy of errors ensued, the details of which I will spare my gentle readers, culminating with the birth of TMax while standing in the bathroom and dh doing an admirable job of catching the football  baby.  While Mom and I marveled that the deed was done and the baby was breathing and crying lustily, Dh was the only one who thought to look and see if it was a He or She.  I think he was the only baby who's sex was not predicted during ultrasound.

The next step was to hobble to the bed with baby and wait for Nancy to arrive so she could cut the cord. Arrive she did, 5 minutes after the birth.  Dh greeted her at the door with the news:  It's a Boy!

We estimated that he arrived at 9:55, less than an hour and a half after that first contraction on the sofa.  The sex, dh thought about.  The time of birth, not so much.

The next 4 hours were rather scary (especially for Mom and Dh) since a large baby (10 lbs. 2 oz) and rapid childbirth coupled together can make a uterus sluggish and refuse to cooperate, but Nancy was amazing and I trusted her with good reason.  She knows her business.

We had a beautiful "babymoon" together since I was very weak and forbidden to go downstairs for at least a week.   Plus, we were all snowed in by 2 feet of snow.  That sweet baby didn't have to get any shots or heel sticks until he was 2 weeks old!

But all was well, and I received the Best Gift Ever from the three kings.  He's still the Best Gift Ever---smart, funny, thoughtful, talented, and kind.

And his birth is a great story to tell!

Happy Birthday, TMax!