30 December 2008

For those of you who like movement...

Eamon Munro Bennett Wolfe

Our boy was born at 1:59 pm on 12/29. He weighed 8 lbs, 15 oz and measured 21 inches long. We'll have a recap of the birth story later- but here are some pics of Eamon to tide you over!

24 December 2008

I Sing the Body Incompetent

So, we went to the doctor yesterday for our probably LAST MATERNITY VISIT EVER. She was surprised to see us at all, and more surprised when she did the pelvic. "You're completely effaced," she said. "Like, 90%. You can't get any more effaced without, you know, it being gone."

Not only that, but the baby is so low that she actually had to feel around the kid's head to get at the rest of the cervix.

HOWEVER, I am still only 2 cm dilated. No matter how many other signs and symptoms of labor I might have, until things, ahem, open up, the child stays put.

"Haven't you had ANY contractions?" she asked. I said I had had some Braxton-Hicks, but that was it. Nothing real, nothing substantial.

She assured Aaron and me that when I finally did start having contractions, it would probably go quickly since everything else was ready to go. I, of course, no longer believe anything that doctors say, and am therefore preparing myself for 52-hours of hard labor following by 7 days of pushing, or something like that.

Anyway, whether my cervix gets its act together or not, we WILL have a baby by the New Year. We reminded the office that we wouldn't be coming back since we had an induction date scheduled on Monday, December 29. Our doctor really did schedule it, but no one actually filled out the paperwork because he didn't tell anybody. In fact, he wrote a note next to it saying, "If baby not delivered before then" (well, duh, but it was his way of saying that he was only scheduling this induction to appease us and in his medical opinion was pretty sure that we would have the baby well before then). Filling out the paperwork was just a formality, since the hospital already had us down on their calendar (the most important part), and while doing so, the nurse also exclaimed her surprise that Dr. Lockhart had been wrong. He has been practicing for many years, and she said, "If he says you're going to go early, you usually go early."

Yeah, well, there you go, right? Tell something like that to Aaron and myself, and we usually do our dardest to do the exact opposite. It's like the time that I was having my wisdom teeth taken out, and the doctor gave me some sort of medicine that was supposed to knock me out completely, but right before I slipped into unconciousness, he said, "You won't remember a thing," at which point I woke myself up enough to remember the whole thing, but I couldn't tell him because I was too drugged up. Stupid, right? And then I went and married a man who also loves to do the opposite of whatever anyone tells him (this makes our marriage interesting sometimes, for both of us), so it makes complete SENSE that our child would be the same way.

Seriously, I expect if the doctor had tut-tutted in early December and said that nothing was really progressing in the labor front, our child would already be a few weeks old.

Anyway, if nothing happens before Monday, and I don't think that anything will, we will head to Riverside hospital by 7 AM (I am fine with this, because it means that we get everything done with pretty early in the day; my husband was aghast since he doesn't get out of bed until 8 AM most days, and doesn't actually wake up until about 10 AM). SO, one way or another, we will have a baby before New Years (unless, of course, the induction doesn't work; I know this one teacher at school who had to be induced 3 times, but we're not thinking about that, oh no, no, no...)

18 December 2008

The Cure

Ah hahahaha...if I were a Plains Indian, they would tie me to a rock and pretend to attack me with spears to get me to give birth. Even better, though--if I were a Pilgrim, they would tie me to a large pole and shake the pole to make the baby "fall out." Now, where did I leave my stash of large poles?

16 December 2008

The Baby that Time Forgot

Went to the doctor today. After the whirlwind of activity last week, nothing has happened since. No change. Wait and see. Etc..

13 December 2008

Holding Pattern

This space should be updated more frequently soon...it appears that things are moving along. Kate had another appointment yesterday, and is now 2 cm dilated and 80% effaced. Contractions are different from the Braxton-Hicks ones she's been having for months now, but are irregular. So now back to the waiting...
At this point, I am really ready to meet the baby. There are so many questions: What is the baby's gender? What color eyes will s/he have? How much hair? What kind of personality will baby Wolfe have?

A couple of interesting stories: While Kate was waiting for the appointment, Christmas carols were playing in the doctor's office. Now, Kate LOVES Christmas and all the trappings; I, on the other hand, despise Christmas music with a passion. So while she was waiting, Kate decided that she too, hated Christmas music. It was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Does that mean that Kate carrying my DNA has affected her perception of those songs? Will the baby come to dislike Christmas music as well? Who knows.

The second is perhaps a bit more troubling. We were listening to music the other night, anf the Imperial March came on (you know- Darth Vader's entrance music). The baby went crazy- moving around, punching in time with the music and generally having a good old time. Does this mean my child is aligned with the Empire? Is my baby Darth Maul reincarnated? Or does it just mean that the baby is also a Star Wars fan? Who knows. I suppose I shall be a bit disappointed if my child turns out to be a Sith, but hey- what can you do? At least I can invest in a cool colored light saber!

Anyway, these are better quality pix of the nursery- and again thanks go out to all who helped put it together.

10 December 2008

Why the Pasta Salad Was a Bad Idea

Here's the problem with pregnancy: each symptom (except for the baby actually emerging from your womb) could be a sign of at least two different things: one quite important, and one quite trivial.

FOR INSTANCE...I am one centimeter dialated, the doctor said today. This could be a sign that I am going into labor in a few hours...or a few weeks. How is that helpful? I should hope I would be going into labor within a few weeks; I'm due on the 26th!

I am also "nicely effaced" (that is a direct quote from the doctor, and I am sorry for those of you mothers who are/were just normally effaced, because the extra adjective gives it that extra je ne sais quoi). This could mean...imminent labor! OR...still a few weeks!

The baby has dropped (the consequence of going on a field trip to Yorktown and walking around a lot). This means...oh, you get the picture.

I lost my mucous plug! (Sorry, it's a gross term, but that's what they call it, and who am I to questions them?) Blah, blah, blah. You can lose it 2 or 3 times. It can grow back. It can be like a bad horror movie sequel...just when you thought everything was safe... (though in fairness, the doctor said that combined with all my other symptoms, this was not likely to happen to me).

And tonight! I am nauseated! This could be a sign of labor beginning...or that I really shouldn't have eaten the pasta salad before dinner. I mean, I knew it was a bad idea, but I suddenly really wanted it. It looked so yummy and tasty and benign, sitting there in the salad bar at the grocery store. It looked like friendly pasta salad, not Pasta Salad of Doom, but now I am writing this blog to distract myself from the sheer yuckiness while I pray that the three Tums I just swallowed will win the battle so that I can sleep, maybe, sometime tonight.

Last symptom: the baby is at a -1 station. This is lower than, say, a -3 station. A + 3 would mean that the baby was actively crowning, so a -1 isn't too shabby. It does mean that I am terribly uncomfortable, as I whined to the doctor today.

"Oh," said he, in an inquisitive tone, "are you ready to be done being pregnant?"

UM, YES!!!

Instead, I tried to respond a little more maturely. "Only if the baby is ready."

"Oh," he said jauntily, "the baby is ready. We could induce you next week. But I don't know if there will be any induction appointments available. You usually have to schedule those awhile in advance around this time of year."

WHAT? I could have scheduled an induction in advance? You didn't care? This whole time, you wouldn't have minded? I thought you were all about letting the body take its course--having things happen naturally! Why didn't you mention this BEFORE? YES, I WANT TO INDUCE ON THE 15th.

I think I was a tad more polite than that.

BUT, it was all for naught. They have no appointments on the 15th...or the 19th...or anything until after Christmas. The 29th, to be exact. I have an appointment for that day, just in case I go past my due date, so that I don't have to wait forever. But the doctor also told me that he really didn't think I was going to make it to the 29th, or even the 26th.

SO, we're right back where we started. It could be hours...or days...or weeks.

But one thing is for sure: I really shouldn't have had that pasta salad.

The Thank You Post

Our house is ready. The nursery is done. All baby accoutrements are assembled and have been test-driven using a handy doll that I realize will be nothing like an actual squirming child (but Nesta wouldn't get in the stroller no matter how hard I tried to convince her that it would be fun and helpful). My lesson plans for school are...almost done (okay, I'm probably being way too thorough and anyone else would be done by now), and I intend them to be finished by the end of the week.

Soooooooo, baby...um...anytime, there, kiddo.

I am still pregnant which becomes increasingly more awkward by the day. There is nothing unusual about this, so I won't dwell on it too much. We have another doctor appointment today, and we will see what the pelvic exam reveals.
Mostly, though, I wanted to use this post to show pictures of our nursery. This nursery is to be credited to several people, none of whom is me. Here are the Academy Awards of the Little Wolfe Nursery:

Special thanks to Ethel McCormack (my mother) for braving Babies R Us and actually ordering the furniture, then being there when it was delivered. Thanks also for the (cough, cough) help in paying for it.
Special thanks to Aaron Wolfe (husband) and Ayinde Martin (well-mannered friend) for assembling the crib AT THE EXPENSE OF WATCHING FOOTBALL.

Special thanks to Julie Hurston (slightly insane, but thank God for it friend), who came down from Massachusetts for a weekend to, no joke, CLEAN OUT and ORGANIZE the nursery. Before she arrived, everything that we owned for the baby was not-so-strategically placed somewhere on the nursery floor, to the point where you couldn't even walk in there, let alone care for a baby. Why on earth someone would spend their weekend sorting through this, I have no idea, but she is wonderful and we love her.

Special thanks to Jim & Susan Wolfe (parents-in-law) for driving down from Delaware to decorate the nursery. They also deserve an especial thanks for putting up with the lack of artistic ability from my husband and me. They would say things like, "What would you like on this wall?" and we would respond, "Um...yellow?" Somehow, from our cryptic advice ("We think it should be something a baby would like") they came up with the beautiful designs and mural pictured.

Lastly, thanks to all the people who donated Things to Put on the Wall, such as Charmaine Hubbard and Joanna Sheehan. Otherwise, the nursery theme really would just be "Yellow."

Jim, Aaron, and Susan putting up the border

The Final Product

Pretty convertible crib that our child will be using until graduating from college

People Who Are Not Me Putting Together the Stroller

Nesta, who, like her mommy, contributed most by Staying Out of the Way

03 December 2008

Weekly Visits

So, the turkey came out relatively well and no one died, or was even hospitalized, in my first foray into large-poultry, non-crockpot cooking. Ergo, Thanksgiving was considered a success! My parents are back from Florida, and stole some bags of turkey from our freezer for themselves (actually, we told them to do that--there's no way that we could eat a 15 pound turkey by ourselves even if we froze the leftovers for several months).

As the title of this post implies, we have begun our weekly visits to the doctor! This is not nearly as exciting as it seems, since nothing really happens at these visits, either. I went today by myself, since Aaron is already taking off about 4 hours this week to go on a field trip with my class to Yorktown (because he is there, nothing exciting will happen; if he wasn't going, you can bet that my water would break and my kids would get an in-depth lesson on the circle of life, or something).

What did the doctor say? Um...not a lot. The baby is still REALLY far down, in the "GO" position...but nothing else is happening. No effacement, no dialation...nothing to indicate that the little tyke is actually "GOING" anywhere. This is fine, since I am still only 36 weeks, and the baby won't be officially "done" for another week or so, anyway (the pep talks to get the heck out of my uterus will officially start when we hit 38 weeks).

On Monday, we'll have our last ultrasound to determine how large the little one is. At that time, I suppose they'll determine whether they want to let me wait until my due date (or beyond), or whether they'll decide to induce. If the baby is already big, there's a chance that they won't want me to go past my due date, since then I would be delivering a moose--at least, that's what I hope. Being pregnant has been...an experience...but I wouldn't mind being able to eat without getting ridiculous heartburn, being able to get out of bed without having to do a complicated roll-out, sleeping with fewer than 4 pillows. And oh, yeah, it would be really cool to meet our baby, too.