I can't tell El's birth story without also telling Av's - they are really one long story. It's my story, really, the story of how I gave birth to two perfect children.
The first miracle is the fact that I got pregnant at all. It was even more miraculous the second time. I have been blessed twice, and within those two big blessings are several sub-blessings. Let me explain.
In 2004 I got cancer. And I had chemo, which is notorious for causing infertility, by way of early menopause. But I was lucky - the treatment protocol I was on was kinder to the ovaries than other types of chemo, plus I took a drug called Lupron during treatment that shuts down the reproductive system and supposedly helps protect it from harm. As a result of this, or maybe as a result of good luck, I did not immediately have fertility problems and became pregnant with Av six months after chemo ended, before I was even aware that I was ovulating again. Wow, wow, wow. I felt like I'd won the biggest lottery ever. Even Wayne, who had been so nervous about having kids, was totally psyched. We were so lovey-dovey during the whole pregnancy, we made everyone around us want to vomit. It was very cool.
I had some worries, though. I didn't know if having had chemo would somehow change the way my body grew a baby and/or gave birth. No one else knew, either - there's been so little research on the subject. Very few chemo patients go on to have babies afterwards, because most chemo patients are beyond their child-bearing years. Unfortunately, however, more and more young people are getting cancer these days, and fertility is slowly becoming a much bigger issue within that population. I imagine that down the road, there will be more research and more focus on developing chemo treatments that preserve fertility. In 2005, however, when I was fast approaching my due date, I had very little to go on. For that reason, we went ahead and had amniocentesis. I was entitled to it anyway, due to my "advanced" age (35), but it wasn't my age I was worried about. The amnio showed no problems, and confirmed that Av was a girl, which we already knew from the ultrasounds. I went ahead with the rest of the OB maternity care rigamarole, until I decided I wanted a natural birth and took a Bradley class. Somewhere in the middle of that I switched to a nurse-midwife. I was hoping I could give birth without pain medication, and I fantasized that I could do it without being hooked up to any machines and without any grotesque procedures, like episiotomy. What I didn't know, however, was that if you give birth in a hospital, overseen by medical personnel, it's extremely unlikely you'll be left alone to do it naturally. Our midwife was based at the hospital, and so was limited by hospital policies and ultimately beholden to the doctors. I was also unaware at the time that the only alternative to a hospital birth in my area was a home birth, with a home birth midwife. I thought that having the nurse-midwife would protect me from intrusive and unnecessary birth interventions. Much later, I learned that this is only somewhat true, and only if certain conditions apply, such as the condition that you go into labor no later than a few days after your due date, and the condition that your labor goes quickly and smoothly, with no deviations from whatever is considered the norm by the hospital culture. My pregnancy did not meet the necessary conditions. At one week past my "due date," I was showing no signs of going into labor any time soon. The midwife insisted we have a non-stress test and an ultrasound, which we did. The doctor on call came in to discuss the results with us. The baby appeared fine, no signs of stress, but my amniotic fluid was "low," my blood pressure was slightly elevated, and the baby was measured by the ultrasound as being well over 8 pounds, so there was a "danger" that she was "too" big to fit through my pelvis. I was aware that late-term ultrasounds for measurements are notoriously inaccurate, and I said as much, but the doctor busted out the big guns: he told us the ultrasound also seemed to show that her heart may be enlarged, although he admitted that this was not necessarily a reason to induce labor. He was more worried about my supposed lack of amniotic fluid.
Sunday, April 21, 2019
"Hello, Plain Jane's Baby Factory, How may I direct your call?"
GW's good friend from Kentucky tends to call about 9:00pm, because he correctly assumes that by this time the kids will be asleep, but we will still be relatively awake and sober ourselves. One night, however, he was the unfortunate recipient of my self-pitying sense of humor.
"Here at Plain's, we sow 'em, grow 'em, and stow 'em. How can I help you?"
A two-second pause, while Lex's considerable intellect grasps my mood and swiftly rises to the challenge of playing along. "Oh, uh...I heard
"Ah, yes. Which department would you like to speak with? The sowing department has unfortunately closed. Permanently."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Would that mean the growing department is also...?"
"Defunct, yes."
"Well, that kind of limits my choices..."
"Yeah."
"I might want to file a complaint." He is a lawyer.
"The complaint department is only open from 6 to 7am on Sundays. You're welcome to call back during that time, although we don't answer the phone until
"Here at Plain's, we sow 'em, grow 'em, and stow 'em. How can I help you?"
A two-second pause, while Lex's considerable intellect grasps my mood and swiftly rises to the challenge of playing along. "Oh, uh...I heard
"Ah, yes. Which department would you like to speak with? The sowing department has unfortunately closed. Permanently."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Would that mean the growing department is also...?"
"Defunct, yes."
"Well, that kind of limits my choices..."
"Yeah."
"I might want to file a complaint." He is a lawyer.
"The complaint department is only open from 6 to 7am on Sundays. You're welcome to call back during that time, although we don't answer the phone until
Twenty Dead Spot in a Cooler
*You really can't scare Av with this kind of stuff.
*El spelunking in the toilet. Again.
*El spelunking in the toilet. Again.
Day started with El helping herself to a healthy piece of chocolate from Av's trick-or-treat stash. She ate the foil wrapper, too.
Termite fears
Advent Spiral - Av walked it, got her candle lit, chose a place for it on the spiral herself, grabbed an apple, went back to her seat and started eating it.
Termite fears
Advent Spiral - Av walked it, got her candle lit, chose a place for it on the spiral herself, grabbed an apple, went back to her seat and started eating it.
I Can't Keep Up
Ah, there are so many things to report from the past month, so I'm not even going to try to put them all in one post. This is what happens when you don't keep up with your blog.
So there was Christmas, in which Santa Claus was quite generous to a certain big sister who put up with a lot over the past year. El enjoyed digging through her stocking and pulling out all the little bits we put in there for her to root through. We spent the day putting together toys, playing, installing a toilet (me & GW's tres romantic gift to one another). Then there was the PA trip - lots of fun, lots of drama, lots of yummy junk food. Av had a real blast with her cousins. Two sleep-overs with cousin R.
So there was Christmas, in which Santa Claus was quite generous to a certain big sister who put up with a lot over the past year. El enjoyed digging through her stocking and pulling out all the little bits we put in there for her to root through. We spent the day putting together toys, playing, installing a toilet (me & GW's tres romantic gift to one another). Then there was the PA trip - lots of fun, lots of drama, lots of yummy junk food. Av had a real blast with her cousins. Two sleep-overs with cousin R.
I Think It's Time For Me To Be More Rejecting of Other People
And this is for the other blog. Just wanted to tag this idea so I can elaborate later.
El, One Year
*Can climb off the couch by herself - has learned to "turn around" and go feet first
* Is smaller than her Piglet doll.
*Is really into her gutteral, French-sounding vocalizations
*Reaches up and says "Up!" when she wants picked up.
*Isn't walking yet, and that's just fine with her parents.
* Is smaller than her Piglet doll.
*Is really into her gutteral, French-sounding vocalizations
*Reaches up and says "Up!" when she wants picked up.
*Isn't walking yet, and that's just fine with her parents.
It's So Cool To Be Five
Why, you ask? Well, pull up a chair, friend, and allow me to enlighten you!!
On your fifth birthday, you'll probably be in a really awesome preschool where you got to be the teacher's aid on your birthday. Your dad took the day off work just to be with you and the family, and he helped keep your baby sister occupied so you could do all the fun stuff you wanted to do, without interruption. The fun stuff you wanted to do included dressing for the day in a beautiful pink-and-red sparkly outfit designed by you, helping your teachers set up the classroom, building huge castles with cardboard blocks, making paint with flour and salt and water, serving Cheddar Bunnies and clementines to your friends for snack, and making "Bad Guy Soup" on the playground with your best girlfriends. Your teachers and classmates would participate in a special ceremony for you, in which you held an Earth ball and walked around a table with a lit candle (the "sun") one time for each year of your life. Each time you walked around, your parents told the group all about the things you were doing when you were that age. For example, when you were one, you'd been walking for a month, and you said about ten words. When you were two you loved to play in water, bounce, talk, paint, and wear bandaids. At three you begged, pleaded, bugged and harangued until Mom finally got the message that you wanted to go to school, and a few months later you started at PCP. At four you became a big sister. At five, you're practically ready to take over the universe.
On your fifth birthday, you'll probably be in a really awesome preschool where you got to be the teacher's aid on your birthday. Your dad took the day off work just to be with you and the family, and he helped keep your baby sister occupied so you could do all the fun stuff you wanted to do, without interruption. The fun stuff you wanted to do included dressing for the day in a beautiful pink-and-red sparkly outfit designed by you, helping your teachers set up the classroom, building huge castles with cardboard blocks, making paint with flour and salt and water, serving Cheddar Bunnies and clementines to your friends for snack, and making "Bad Guy Soup" on the playground with your best girlfriends. Your teachers and classmates would participate in a special ceremony for you, in which you held an Earth ball and walked around a table with a lit candle (the "sun") one time for each year of your life. Each time you walked around, your parents told the group all about the things you were doing when you were that age. For example, when you were one, you'd been walking for a month, and you said about ten words. When you were two you loved to play in water, bounce, talk, paint, and wear bandaids. At three you begged, pleaded, bugged and harangued until Mom finally got the message that you wanted to go to school, and a few months later you started at PCP. At four you became a big sister. At five, you're practically ready to take over the universe.
Beach!
Okay, so there are some nice things about living in the South. One is that you get to go to the beach in March. The water's icy, but the sand is pleasantly warm, the air smells incredible and the sun and blue sky make you forget there ever was a winter where the kids were sick every other week for five months.
Today was really El's first time on the beach. Last time she went was at age 2 weeks or something; she was an infant barely peeking out of the sling. So today was big. For Av, too - first beach trip of the new year, not to mention Nanny is here visiting which makes it extra special - she was so excited to go she was beside herself.
Today was really El's first time on the beach. Last time she went was at age 2 weeks or something; she was an infant barely peeking out of the sling. So today was big. For Av, too - first beach trip of the new year, not to mention Nanny is here visiting which makes it extra special - she was so excited to go she was beside herself.
Kindergarten is Great! Well, Except For...
...."it's boring most of the time, and we have to sit and listen to the teacher talk, and I already know the stuff they're teaching me, except for Spanish, which is kind-of hard but not really, and also I'm really tired and I don't want to go to school today so can we just go home?
Camping Night In The Backyard
We've got hot dogs, we've got graham crackers, we've got chocolate and marshmallows We've got a cool tent bought on the cheap, courtesy of more experienced camping friends. We've got air mattresses, a radio, and an old pine stump that needed another good burn anyway. It all went well until the toddler spilled a drink on the laptop, finally killing it for good, and until Av decided that the great outdoors was just too creepy at night and went upstairs to her own bed. Yay for practicing camping in the backyard. We'll practice some more, and hopefully at some point it'll get less creepy.
Language Explosion, pt.2
Can't keep up. She's now at the stage where she imitates everything anyone says, so it's hard to tell sometimes which words are actually "real" words and which are just parroted syllables. But some of the ones I have "proof" of are:
Pumpkin ("punk - ken!")
Nurse!
Thank you ("bink yoo")
You're Welcome ("Erwelk")
Dress
School ("Gooo!")
Knee
Bandaid ("Bend-end")
Pumpkin ("punk - ken!")
Nurse!
Thank you ("bink yoo")
You're Welcome ("Erwelk")
Dress
School ("Gooo!")
Knee
Bandaid ("Bend-end")
Saturday, February 15, 2014
It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses A Toothbrush
Eight-year-old sleepovers, at your house. Parents' nightmare? Nay, I say. A chance to experience other people's children, with all their wonderful peculiarities. One of my daughter's BFFs is with us tonight, and it's been one of the most fun evenings I've had in a long time. Maybe you're coming to conclusions about my marriage I would rather you not, but if so, cut me a break. I'm in my mid forties and I've been married for a decade and a half. Novelty rules.
Tonight, it comes in the form of M., a child I've known pretty much since she was in the womb, and yet every time I see her, she blows my mind. Case in point: in the van, riding home from a traumatic (for me) visit to the grocery store, in which I'd felt the need to apologize repeatedly to the blank-faced check out girl when my 4-year-old sat in the cart between the sushi and the toilet paper sobbing hysterically because she didn't get to be the one to put the green juice on the scanner, M. provided the elaborate (and successful) distraction of a made-up universe combining features of the outside world flying by on Military Cutoff road with her own visionary elements, like trees that grow toys and sidewalks that sprout tin soldiers. My children eagerly joined in, carried on the tide, and the 4-year-old's distress was utterly forgotten, without me having to lift a finger to do any parenting. Sweet.
Later, at the rez, there was a dance party, including hat-wearing balloons in honor of my eldest's "actual" birthday (the party's next week). M. staged a wedding, between herself and her stovepipe-sporting balloon groom. The script went like this:
"Will you marry me? Here's a ring." (a black balloon, that had earlier represented an evil plague in a completely different vignette)
"Why, yes, darling, I will."
"Blah, blah, blah, we're married....okay, I'm dumping you, me and my ring are going to live happily ever after." (I'm not kidding: this is word-for-word.)
Me: Well, congratulations, I hope you two will be very happy.
M: [cracks up]
Later, again: "Story time" aka "We're being as cute and funny as possible so you won't make us go to sleep"
Av: Once upon a time there was a fart, named Fartle. And he had a friend who was a burp, and her name was Burpette.
M.: You should change his name to Fartio, so they can be like Romeo and Juliet.
Me: [No verbal response. Stunned.]
Later still: "Okay, girls, let's brush teeth!" (this is me).
"Where's my toothbrush?"
"Same place it always is."
"I want to draw with crayons before bed."
"No, it's getting late."
"Well, where's my toothpaste?"
"I don't know, ask your father."
"Why can't I draw?"
"We've covered this. It's late."
"Why isn't Elena in bed?"
"I don't know, ask your father."
"Are we going to make more green goo tomorrow?"
"I don't know, ask your - "
M : "Can I borrow some liquid saline?"
[Record needle slides off noisily.] "Uhm....liquid saline?"
"Yeah."
Okay.
We slow it down. We put on tea tree oil lotion and Burt's Bees lip stuff and we have foot rubs, and we start the humidifier, and we talk about all the nice stuff moms do to help us when we have stuffy noses at night...we find our stuffed animals and we snuggle in together, and we set boundaries about who can wake up who and when and under what circumstances. We make decisions about the lighting.
Conversation between me and the husband, after I "put the kids to bed":
Him: "So they're down?"
Me: "Sure, sure. I just explained it to them - you can get up in the morning if it's after seven, but no waking the adults until after seven-thirty. I made them repeat it several times, I'm sure they got it."
Him: [pregnant pause] "If the water swallows you and you drown, it proves you're not a witch. This has that sort of logic to it."
Me: "I'm not gonna bother lifting my middle finger. Please, just go ahead and picture it."
She's sweet, and she's different, and she's one of my daughter's oldest friends, whom she's going to miss so deeply when she moves across the country next month. I will miss her indelible contribution to my family dynamic on the occasions I get to experience her uniqueness. And I'll miss my friend, too - her mother. It won't be as easy to get together, but I have a feeling we'll still get the opportunity once in a while. I hope so.
Tonight, it comes in the form of M., a child I've known pretty much since she was in the womb, and yet every time I see her, she blows my mind. Case in point: in the van, riding home from a traumatic (for me) visit to the grocery store, in which I'd felt the need to apologize repeatedly to the blank-faced check out girl when my 4-year-old sat in the cart between the sushi and the toilet paper sobbing hysterically because she didn't get to be the one to put the green juice on the scanner, M. provided the elaborate (and successful) distraction of a made-up universe combining features of the outside world flying by on Military Cutoff road with her own visionary elements, like trees that grow toys and sidewalks that sprout tin soldiers. My children eagerly joined in, carried on the tide, and the 4-year-old's distress was utterly forgotten, without me having to lift a finger to do any parenting. Sweet.
Later, at the rez, there was a dance party, including hat-wearing balloons in honor of my eldest's "actual" birthday (the party's next week). M. staged a wedding, between herself and her stovepipe-sporting balloon groom. The script went like this:
"Will you marry me? Here's a ring." (a black balloon, that had earlier represented an evil plague in a completely different vignette)
"Why, yes, darling, I will."
"Blah, blah, blah, we're married....okay, I'm dumping you, me and my ring are going to live happily ever after." (I'm not kidding: this is word-for-word.)
Me: Well, congratulations, I hope you two will be very happy.
M: [cracks up]
Later, again: "Story time" aka "We're being as cute and funny as possible so you won't make us go to sleep"
Av: Once upon a time there was a fart, named Fartle. And he had a friend who was a burp, and her name was Burpette.
M.: You should change his name to Fartio, so they can be like Romeo and Juliet.
Me: [No verbal response. Stunned.]
Later still: "Okay, girls, let's brush teeth!" (this is me).
"Where's my toothbrush?"
"Same place it always is."
"I want to draw with crayons before bed."
"No, it's getting late."
"Well, where's my toothpaste?"
"I don't know, ask your father."
"Why can't I draw?"
"We've covered this. It's late."
"Why isn't Elena in bed?"
"I don't know, ask your father."
"Are we going to make more green goo tomorrow?"
"I don't know, ask your - "
M : "Can I borrow some liquid saline?"
[Record needle slides off noisily.] "Uhm....liquid saline?"
"Yeah."
Okay.
We slow it down. We put on tea tree oil lotion and Burt's Bees lip stuff and we have foot rubs, and we start the humidifier, and we talk about all the nice stuff moms do to help us when we have stuffy noses at night...we find our stuffed animals and we snuggle in together, and we set boundaries about who can wake up who and when and under what circumstances. We make decisions about the lighting.
Conversation between me and the husband, after I "put the kids to bed":
Him: "So they're down?"
Me: "Sure, sure. I just explained it to them - you can get up in the morning if it's after seven, but no waking the adults until after seven-thirty. I made them repeat it several times, I'm sure they got it."
Him: [pregnant pause] "If the water swallows you and you drown, it proves you're not a witch. This has that sort of logic to it."
Me: "I'm not gonna bother lifting my middle finger. Please, just go ahead and picture it."
She's sweet, and she's different, and she's one of my daughter's oldest friends, whom she's going to miss so deeply when she moves across the country next month. I will miss her indelible contribution to my family dynamic on the occasions I get to experience her uniqueness. And I'll miss my friend, too - her mother. It won't be as easy to get together, but I have a feeling we'll still get the opportunity once in a while. I hope so.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Recent Quotes and Recent Pictures
Avery: "Why do strong scents of stink make you want to cough?"
Elena: "Hip hip....todaaaaay!!!!" Later: "Hip hip.....tomorrow!!!!"
Elena: "Hip hip....todaaaaay!!!!" Later: "Hip hip.....tomorrow!!!!"
 |
| Avery's 1st grade roller coaster! |
 |
| All the friends together at Avery's 7th |
 |
| Strike a pose |
 |
| Karate kid |
 |
| Karate kid with awesome karate teacher! |
 |
| Cool girl at Ashboro Zoo |
 |
| Checking out the sleeping lions |
 |
| Add caption |
Elena Quotes of the Day
I congratulated her on her first trip out of the house (to the grocery store) without diaper or pull-up, which occurred today. She even took advantage of the public restroom while we were there. She accepted my praise by saying matter-of-factly: "That's my job!"
Later, playing in the house, she declared that she was older than me.
"Are you?" I replied, distracted by something I was doing on the desktop.
"Well," she amended, "I'm older than Avery."
"Oh," I said. "How old are you?"
"I'm three." (pronounced "free") "So I'm tiny and fly-ee."
Later, playing in the house, she declared that she was older than me.
"Are you?" I replied, distracted by something I was doing on the desktop.
"Well," she amended, "I'm older than Avery."
"Oh," I said. "How old are you?"
"I'm three." (pronounced "free") "So I'm tiny and fly-ee."
 | |
| Spring Fling face painting...wow! |
 | |
| Exploring at the Ashboro Zoo |
 |
| Loves her some goggles. |
 |
| Posing in princess attire |
 |
| Watching a scary episode of My Little Pony with big sis |
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
She's 3!!
What a great birthday for our little "baby" Elena! It was 70 degrees and sunny all day. Dead of winter. We took Avery to school in the morning, then went to Target at Elena's request (she loves to "go to the store"). Picked up some streamers and other party necessities. Went home and played outside, decorated her cake, played outside, cleaned up the house, and played outside. Elena set the kitchen table, carefully pouring a cup of water for herself and each of her party guests (that would be Mom, Dad, and Avery), and scattering party hats & funky sunglasses around. After we picked up Avery from school, things got even more exciting. Avery put on some dance music and we started hanging steamers and balloons, and after about an hour the kitchen looked like a party store exploded in it. Elena was ecstatic. "Don't sing Happy Birthday to me," she told me at one point. "It makes me feel like I can't talk." Dad came home from work early so he wouldn't miss the party, and we played with the 600 balloons we blew up over the course of the day, and Elena opened her presents. She got a unicorn pillow-pet constellation light, and a barbie princess fishing game from Dad - a huge hit. Played with those a bit, then dinner under the streamers, then cake - yes, we did sing Happy Birthday, and she was delighted after all.
Three years ago yesterday she was born in the luxury of her own home.
First birthday:
2nd Birthday:
3rd Birthday:
Three years ago yesterday she was born in the luxury of her own home.
First birthday:
2nd Birthday:
3rd Birthday:
 |
| Dressed up for the (briefly) cold weather |
 |
| 70 degree January day = wild horse rides |
 |
| In Big Bird hat, getting ready to decorate cake |
 |
| Just finished hanging streamers with big sis |
 |
| Princess |
 |
| Avery puts the final touches on the cake |
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)