The Z Files: Month One*

Dear Zane,

One month ago today** I heard you for the first time. I was shaking, frightened, and drugged – lying on the operating room table – and there you were. I heard you before I saw you. I heard you cry, calling out with a shout that you had arrived at last. I heard you cry and something in me was forever changed. I heard you cry and I knew, I knew. I knew you were mine. Your cry, your voice, sounded like the voice of someone I had known long ago, loved long ago. Your voice pierced through me like a thousand arrows. I wept instantly. I wept, knowing that you were here, knowing that you were mine, knowing that my heart and soul knew you by your voice alone. In that moment, time stopped, my life stopped, my heart stopped – everything stopped. And when it started again, everything was different, everything was new. Because in that moment I became your Mama.

I can hardly believe it has been a month already. And I can hardly believe it has only been a month. I feel so new at this, you feel so new to me - but also? It feels as if I have known you all my life, as if you have been with me all my life. And maybe I have, and maybe you have. I don’t know how these things work.

I tell your dad that I think you chose us. You chose us as your parents. He doesn’t quite know what to think about that since it involves all sorts of beliefs about who we are and where we are and if we exist before we are born here. Big stuff. And I don’t fully know what I believe about all those things either. But I still think you chose us (and perhaps God chose you for us). And to say I am grateful for that would be the understatement of the century.

I want to say thank you. Thank you not only for choosing us, but thank you for being so gentle with us, for teaching us and for having patience with us when it takes us a few tries to “get it”. Sometimes I feel I am living with a wise and kind little teacher instead of the brand-new baby that you are. You are the most peaceful and content baby I have ever seen. Your smile is breathtaking. You really hardly cry at all. (Although, when particularly hungry, you have been heard to growl) I have tried hard to listen and to meet your needs before you needed to cry. But still. Thank you.

Of course, just so you know, even if you cried the whole night through, even if you screamed relentlessly – I would still love you. I would sweat and cry and wonder what I could do. I would hold you and comfort you and tell you I am here for you always. I would pace the floor and I would not sleep. But I would still love you. With everything in me, I would still love you.

“When you have a baby, every day counts. Every week matters. Every month is a revelation, a collection of milestones so vast it’s easy to forget that they have even happened.” – Rebecca Woolf, Rockabye

This was a month full of firsts: your first smile, your first cry, your first night home, your first nap in our bed, your first bath (my how you love your baths!), your first kiss (from mama, of course!), your first time in a sling (you love being “worn”), your first massage (you fell asleep in the first five minutes), your first “push up” (you are mighty strong, little one), your first trip to the park, your first doggy kiss, your first thumb sucking, your first attempt at rolling over (you really shouldn’t be doing this already, you are giving Mama a heart attack), and today? Today you gave us your first laugh.

It was a small little baby laugh but truly and distinctly - a laugh. Your laugh. Your dad and I were chatting with you as he held you up in the sunlight streaming through the window. A smile spread across your face, your mouth opened wide and out came the sound: a few short syllables of laughter, “heh, heh, heh!” We cracked up laughing with you and fought back our tears. A simple laugh. Might as well have been angels singing as far as we were concerned. Later you repeated this miracle twice more. Once as I strapped you into your car seat and again later while you were sleeping (!) of all things. Each time as heart-stopping and surprising as the first.

The month began with the sound of your first cry, a cry that called me into motherhood. The month is ending with the sound of your laughter. My ears, my heart, my soul were made to hear these sounds. I hope I never stop listening. I hope I never stop listening for your voice, never stop responding to your calls, never resist being carried away in your laughter.

Love Always,

Mama

* I am blatantly borrowing this "monthly newsletter" concept from this famous blogger.

** I did actually write this on February 21st, Zane's one month birthday but then had to do some editing because the original version was three pages long! I sure do love writing about this guy.

What a difference a year makes

Wow. I can't believe it has been 2 weeks since I have posted. I also can't believe I completely missed my one year blogoversary. Yep. One year ago, on Feb. 11th, I began this blog as a place to document my journey through IVF. One year ago I was thick in the battle of infertility and feeling hopeful and scared about what was to come.

I feel so very very far from all of that now. I can't really even fathom calling myself an infertile. Not when I see the face of my son staring back at me. No. I can say I "struggled with infertility" but that feels so distant and foreign now.

I remember walking into IVF thinking, "This has to be the door to our next chapter, I can't take living in this place anymore - I can't take the waiting and disappointment and longing anymore. It has been so long." We were about 2.5 years in at that point. Now I know what a short time that was in comparison to so many others who have been through so much more. I also know now that everything I went through, every disappointment, though excruciating at the time, all of it was such a small small price to pay for the privilege of being Zane's mother. I am just so incredibly aware of how fortunate I truly am. I hope I never forget.

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These days run into eachother. Day seeps into night, night fades to day - in increments measured by feedings, diaper changes, and precious hours of sleep. Time has a different meaning. Time is meaningful only in relation to him. How many hours since he last ate, how many hours he slept last night, and how very very quickly he is growing, growing and changing right before my eyes. I feel pangs of sadness each night as he falls to sleep because I know he will be a different baby in the morning. Each day he is different, each day I say good-bye to the baby I knew the day before. He gets bigger and more agile every morning. And as I celebrate every new accomplishment and experience, I know his days are flying past. He will soon be a month old. I want to beg him to slow down so I can catch up, catch my breath. But all I can do is hold on with both hands and let him lead the way......And what a beautiful and wild adventure he is leading me into.

Coming up for air

I am sitting in the glider in our bedroom. I am holding my naked-except-for-his-diaper son against my bare chest. He just finished eating and being slowly rocked into a contented slumber. He is perfection and innocence embodied in this gorgeous, creamy skinned little body with the most intense and peaceful eyes I have ever stared into. This is what I have waited for. And it is so good it scares me.

We've been hibernating and healing over here. Letting go of the "shoulds" (I should have....uploaded more pictures by now, sent birth announcements, retuned e-mails/ phone calls, started using our cloth diapers by now....etc..) and learning to live in the moment. And there have been so many that the last few weeks feels like a blur of polaroid photos flashing by me.

We had a long, hard, powerful, unexpected, and at the end a bit scary, labor and birth. I have been processing it like crazy with my husband and my doula and am finally able to relate the details with pride and honesty. And I plan to share more about that here soon (meaning when I have two hands free to type with - it's a long one).

My first week home was a blur of uncontrollable crying jags and suffocating anxiety that made me feel as if I was being held captive in the bottom of a dark pit that I might never return from. I could feel the love for my husband and son but somehow couldn't quite reach it, or them. It was agony. I would sit and hold my newborn to my chest, skin-to-skin, inhaling deeply the scent of his neck - determined to stay connected to him, allowing his scent to pull me up from the pit in small increments measured by my breathing. My husband called in the reinforcements: friends who are mothers, my counselor, our doula. I called Apothecary Tinctura and they quickly whipped up some herbal and homeopathic remedies to nurture and support me. Also, I received my placenta capsules - capsules containing my steamed, dehydrated, and finely ground placenta. I had paid to have these made for this very purpose, to help me to balance my postpartum hormones and emotions a bit easier. Thankfully, after several tearful coversations with friends and my amazing doula, many cups of tea and doses of tinctures, a few days of placenta capsules, and lots of prayer.....something worked. I woke on Monday and something had lifted. So far it has not returned and I have given thanks for every day since, knowing I am far from being out of the woods. But I am learning to live in the moment and to be grateful for each one.

Since Monday, the experience of motherhood has consumed me with all the magic and all the mundaneness. I have had highs....the utter joy of seing my son "smile", the realization that this beautiful incredible boy is the same boy we saw all those months ago, small as a grain of rice on the ultrasound image with the flicker of a heartbeat that is now the pounding heart that I love to hold against my own, the quiet satisfaction and peace as he nurses. I have had some "lows" too....the realization of my now very limited freedom, the anxiety induced over simply trying to figure out how to get a shower or leave the house (I will figure this out right?), the late night irrational anger over hearing my husband snore away while I am up, again.

Love has become so much bigger than how I feel. Love is all about action these days. The action it takes to respond to my son, the active ways I anticipate his needs, the active choice to be with him, to smile - even at 3am, to constantly let him know that he will be cared for, he will be loved - no matter what. Also, the action necessary to reach out and connect with my husband, my partner to love him and ask him to love me in the ways we need right now. And lastly, the action necessary to love myself: brewing a pot of tea, feeding myself, finding time to shower, asking for a break when my husband comes home so I can reboot - and choosing to hibernate and conserve during this season of transition.

Slowly, moment by moment, I am receiving my son's trust in me and learning to trust myself. Slowly, I am letting myself be changed, letting my selfishness and independence be challenged and shaken up, letting myself fall ever more in love, letting myself breathe, letting myself be a mom, a good mom - even when I doubt my own ability.

Sunshine....another update

We just heard from the Dr.s office. Zane's bilirubin went up slightly again to 15.1. But today is the day it should have peaked and 15.1 is still below the level that requires treatment, so no more testing until his 2 week appt, or unless he shows signs of worsening in any way.

Huge relief. Huge.

She told us to sit by the window with him 3 times a day and to continue feeding him frequently to help his body get rid of this. So lets hope for some sunny days ahead - in more ways than one.

One good thing about getting out for that dreaded blood test today was getting some sunshine for myself too - which really helped me so much! Guess we both need a bit more sunlight right now.

Thanks everyone for the reassurance, the good wishes, and thoughts and vibes and prayers. This really threw us first time parents for a loop and having your support truly helped so much!

Update.....still yellow

Dr. just called.

Good news: Zane is gaining back his weight like a champ. He left the hospital on Sat. weighing 8lbs 9oz and today he weighed 9lbs even. They like to see a gain of 1-2 oz per day, he gained 7oz in a day and a half. That was a huge relief!

Other news: His bilirubin continues to climb. It is 2 points higher today but still beneath "treatment" levels. We have to take him back to the lab tomorrow to check again.

Thank you all of you who are thinking of us and hoping for us. We (all three of us) are exhausted and Mr. Spicy and I are longing for a few days of uninterrupted bliss with our boy. We are grateful he is doing as well as he is and that the Dr.s are being so diligent with his care. We are just ready for some normalization and reassurance soon. Please send lots of lowering bilirubin thoughts for Zane tomorrow, if you can.

We will keep you posted. In the meantime here is a gratuitous photo of Zane in all his deliciousness:

Yellow

So much to say......but for now I am thinking of only one thing. That Zane would be healthy.

He developed pathologic hemolytic jaundice shortly after birth. This type of jaundice is much more rare than the common physiological jaundice often seen in newborns. His particular case is caused by him having A+ blood (already an A student!) and my having O+ blood. Some of my antibodies entered his bood stream during the birth and began breaking down his red blood cells causing elevated bilirubin levels.

In the hospital the tests showed that his body was doing its best to respond by making new red blood cells but it is a slow process and his levels were steadily increasing. He remained under "bili-lights" and on a bili-blanket for the three days we were there. We also supplemented his feedings with donor breast milk in an effort to flush more bilirubin from his system. On his last day in the hospital the levels began to stabilize and even decrease slightly.

Yesterday, our first day home, we took him back to be re-tested. His levels had increased again but had remained below the level where treatment is critical.

Today, he is more yellow and a little more sleepy, both signs that his bilirubin may be on the rise again. We are bringing him in this afternoon for testing again.

I am a wreck. I hate that he has been poked and prodded and messed with every day of his little life, I hate that he might need those damn lights again (he HATES them!), I hate that I can't just settle in at home for two consecutive days and love on my boy without interference - but mostly I hate that anything might possibly be wrong with him. I am a crying, worrying mess over here just thinking about it.

Please send lots of prayers, good vibes, thoughts, whatever you've got we'll take it - for Zane to be healthy, for his levels to be coming down, and for his momma to be strong.

p.s. I know this is hardly on the scale of really scary stuff - but for me....well, it's big, and it is freaking me out. I just desperately want him to be ok.

Beautiful Boy

Our boy arrived at 8:38 am today, after 26 hours of labor and via c-section. He weighed a hefty 9lbs 10 oz which directly contributed to how he eventually came into the world this morning - but I will post a full birth story later when I am not spontaneously passing out. I am exhausted and happier than I have ever been. Best day of my life by far.

Happy birth day Zane!

Water broke!!!!

More like "leaking" - 6am. Blood tinged.

Having contractions like menstrual cramps.

So excited! Our baby is on his way!!!!!

(we have appt with Dr. Honey at 9 - hoping to stay home till then)

40.5 weeks....

Had my NST today. Our Poblano looks "excellent" and was very active! And....apparently I was have some pretty serious contractions. But I wasn't feeling them.

Three different nurses took a look at the readout and asked me, "Are you sure you aren't feeling those?" I explained I could feel some tightening and pressure but no pain or any real distinct "contracty" feelings. I was actually pretty comfy. They just shook their heads and looked at me as if I was insane. They showed me the printout and explained that I was showing pretty mid-level to high-level contractions. Even now, I can barely tell I am having them, but they are nothing regular. Sometimes they last several minutes, and there's not a consistent pattern - but good to know something is happening!

Dr. Z was shown my results and apparently felt good enough about them to let me go till next week when I meet with Dr. Honey. But the nurses! Oh my! They were pushing and pushing for me to go ahead and schedule and induction - what is up with that?! Even as I was walking out, a nurse I am not familiar with asked if I was heading to the hospital to have my baby. I was rather stunned and just stammered..."um, no....not yet!"

I am looking forward to either a) going into labor on my own sometime between now and Tue or b) meeting with Dr. Honey on Tue. She knows my wishes and is really supportive and has said in the past that she would allow me to go to 42 weeks if everything looked alright, without scheduling an induction.

I have been reading lately that studies show that the true average gestation for first time moms is actually closer to 41 weeks + 1 day. And like I said, tardiness is a family trait. So, as long as Poblano is doing fine and wiggling away in there and as long as my body continues to do what it is supposed to (yay! contractions!) - I would rather give us both just a bit more time. But, if we haven't delivered by Tue, I will see what my Dr. says and what her opinion is of the risks over 41 weeks. Ultimately, I will do what is best for my son. But for now, everything seems to be working just as it should be. So I feel good about letting nature take its course.

My doula has been invaluable to me this week especially - she and I have talked almost every day and she is superbly suited to talking me off the ledges I sometimes work myself onto. She has been so encouraging and has helped me maintain perspective and positivity in these last days. Today, after my NST, she applauded me for doing so well. That Poblano is thriving, that I am having good strong contractions - that both are happening simultaneously - all good good things. She made me promise to go do something nice for myself today to celebrate my body and that it is doing its work so beautifully. So, I treated myself to a mani/pedi and deliciously spicy Indian food for lunch. Yum! I rarely get pedicure and almost never get manicures, so this was quite the treat! I chose a sparkly light blue polish for my toes as opposed to the usual crimson. It seemed to say "baby boy" and I thought it would be a nice bright image for me while in labor. It makes me think of fairy dust and magic. And what could be more magical than our baby boy's arrival??

So....still waiting. But feeling positive and excited that he is coming soon!!!! It just occured to me today that perhaps I should have some kind of poll going for people to guess when he will arrive and what his stats will be. You could include guesses in the comments or I could do some fancy link to some poll or something...What do you all think???

40 weeks...

...and no baby yet.

We saw Dr. Z (the male Dr. who is the head of the practice) yesterday because Dr. Honey is out of town (again!). As he had me half-naked up on the table he said, "So. I generally don't like to let women go past 41 weeks. How about we schedule you for an induction this weekend?" I think my jaw dropped, literally. I was totally unprepared for this since Dr. Honey had originally said that as long as all was well with baby we could go to 42 weeks. Thankfully, Dr. Z is observant and before I had a chance to voice my opinion he took one look at my face and said, "You don't want an induction, do you?" And I replied that really, I would rather avoid it if possible.

So - he asked us to come back on Friday for a NST. If all goes well, I will see Dr. Honey again next Tue ( 41 weeks) and she and I can discuss what she thinks about all this. This is assuming Poblano doesn't make his grand entrance by then, of course.

I am not against doing an induction if need be, for medical reasons. I just don't want to do one just because I'm running a little late. Myself and both my sisters came a bit late into this world (one of them at 43 weeks!!!), so I think maybe it just runs in the family. Most my family can't make it anywhere on time to this day - so perhaps he is just following in our footsteps. Not to mention that a large majority of first time moms go past their due dates. So, as long as Poblano looks good and healthy and I am ok - I want to give my body a chance to do what it knows how to do when it is ready and this baby a chance to come when it is right for him.

This doesn't mean I am against helping things along, or clearing the path, if you will. I have been a walking fiend and even did the stairmaster at the gym last night. I did yoga this morning. I saw my acupuncturist this afternoon (she marked the points she triggered so Mr. S can stimulate them at home). I have a tea from my herbalist that is supposed to help ripen my cervix and tone my uterus. She also gave me some homeopathics as well. They are not to induce, just to support the uterus in producing more efficient contractions. I am still on the fence about those though. I am taking Evening Primose Oil, doing warm baths, stretching, doing my "optimal fetal positioning exercises" and yes - having lots of sex (sorry for the TMI). I am also trying to remember to do regular nipple stimulation. Mr. Spicy had me doing it in the car while we drove to the gym last night. Quite the show for the other motorists, I am sure.

But despite all the above (and let me be clear here that I am not religious with any of those things), I think honestly the most important thing for me to do right now is to connect with our baby and to relax and admit that this, like so much else, is really out of my control. No matter what I do - he will come when he is ready. My acupuncturist reminded me that this is one of my life lessons, to learn to let go and understand that things are not in my control. Even after all the work I did with this during our long struggle with IF, I still don't like being in this place. I do not like walking into the unknown. And yet, I will do it again and again and I will struggle with it all the way - because I know that there is so much for me to learn here. And I know there is so much freedom to be had in accepting that I do not have ultimate control. And I think motherhood will require me to face this lesson continually in deeper and harder ways, probably for the rest of my life.

So....we wait. Which depending on the day can feel just fine or completely agonizing. On Sunday I was in bed most of the day and in tears because I was just completely worn out from not sleeping and the aches and pains and the acid reflux and the anxiety and did I mention the not sleeping? I literally went about a week sleeping at most 2-3 hours a night, and even those would be interrupted hours. Then, I would be wide awake the rest of night, only to collapse from exhaustion at about 7am to get another 2 hours of sleep or so. It was seriously making me completely wigged out. Then last night, I slept. I slept. I slept the whole night! (With about a dozen trips to the bathroom of course) I actually kind of freaked when I woke up this morning. I thought surely something was wrong and nervously did a kick count. Poblano was moving just fine. We were both fine. I just felt.....rested. And it was amazing. So, needless to say I am in much much better spirits today. I left the house at 10am for yoga and spent the whole day out running errands and getting stuff done and I felt almost normal again. So today? The waiting doesn't feel so hard. But, after a day out I am tired. So I hope last night wasn't just a fluke.

But enough about me....how about some pictures of me?

Remember when I said I had very special 38 week pictures? Mr. Spicy helped me make a belly cast at 38 weeks. We laughed so hard while doing it - it was really fun. But holy freaking boobs batman! I truly had no idea till I looked at it how incredibly ridiculously huge my breasts are. A good friend of mine did a belly cast with her third pregnancy and she was thoughtful enough to hold her arms in the air while it was being applied so that her boobs would seem more perky. I really wish I would have thought of that too. Regardless. There is my 38 week form, preserved for all time. I am thinking of painting it as an early labor project. We'll see. Mr. Spicy is concerned I will want to mount it on our living room wall and terrorize our visitors with it. Just for that, I made him try it on. So now you all know what my husband might look like if he were 38 weeks pregnant. He is such a good sport! (although he did make me promise not to include his face)









And here are my 40 week belly pictures, behold the giant belly (and the recently appearing stretch marks that I am coming to terms with - ah vanity!):