Venturing Out

Once you get home from the hospital, you will spend your first few days in a "rot spot". Whether this spot be on your couch, in a favorite chair, or in your bed - you will be at the beck and call of your baby, especially if you are breast feeding. You will also have little reason to brush your hair, put on anything but sweat pants, or look presentable in any other way. Clearly, your "downstairs" will still be pissed off at you for various reasons and your movements will be limited so, at first, this sedentary life style will work; however if you are like me, it will also wear off quickly.

After a week or so you will start to look for reasons to put on pants and leave the house.You may even resent your husband as he goes about his day, goes to the gym, and has happy nether-regions. This is not good. Find some place to go - even if its just for a half hour.
Austin's first outing was to Target with my mom and me. It was good for both of us to get some air, break in our over priced stroller, and move. You will still protect your baby from onlookers who want to peer over the stroller and gawk at your baby. You don't want him to get infected by anything and you are convinced everyone has something to contaminate him with.

You are also supposed to wait 6 weeks before exercising but I am vane and shallow and didn't want to wait that long. By November 9th, I got my butt into the garage and created some hybrid heavy bag/kettlebell/ tae-bo work out. I was pleasantly surprised with my performance and became a much better person to be around in the house. Clearly use your judgment and listen to your body as you work out, but if you are like me - endorphins are a wonderful thing. Since then, I have increased my workouts and yesterday I was able to run 6 miles at a decent clip  and my uterus didn't fall out. (sshh - don't tell Dr. B)

This leads me to my next mini-rant.
I chose not to gain 80 pounds during my pregnancy. I gained 22 - 7 1/2 were baby and about 8 were miscellaneous fluids and gunk. This left me about 7 pounds to lose once I got home. Good news! Maybe I could have cheated more - I never did get the carrot-cheesecake muffin I promised myself at the 7th month mark - but I chose not to because I am shallow and didn't want to be a fat mess. This said, I'm sorry Jessica Simpson got huge but that was her decision. I don't need to see her and all these other celebrities all over the place with their post-baby bodies. If you exercise during your pregnancy, make smart choices, and work your ass off afterwards (literally), you can wear your pre-pregnancy clothes home from the hospital. I was able to do it without a personal trainer, a nutritionist, a Weight Watchers endorsement, or paparazzi.
There is more I can say on this topic, but I am going to move on.

Once you know you can put on your pants, you will want to go out and socialize with the world. My first adult outing was bridesmaids dress shopping. This was an excellent idea as well as a not so excellent idea. The morning of the 10th, I was so excited to blow dry my hair, put on make up, and not talk in 3rd person. As I drove up the Garden State Parkway, I felt like Thelma or Louise, minus the cliff. I love my son dearly, but there is something to be said about adult conversation and applying foundation. It was so nice to see my friends, feel clean, talk about something other than poop, and look at bridesmaid dresses with one of my absolute favorite people in the world.

I was resigned to just offering my opinion and not trying anything on since some of my parts were still soft and others were still angry; however when a bride-to-be finds a dress she loves, a dutiful bridesmaid tries it on. The dress was beautiful but the lighting in the dressing room was not. It's also not easy when one of the bridesmaids is a fabulous 5'9 and itty bitty and another is my height, but also itty-bitty. Even though I was back in my jeans, somewhere between hormones, the industrial sized pad in my undies, and my extra cushion, I was not the bridesmaid goddess I had hoped to be. At this point, I started to feel sad. Mommy-guilt started to kick in and it was time to go home. In hindsight, I took on a little too much too soon and should have started with a lunch or a walk and waited before trying on clothes and getting measured. Lesson learned.

First Thanksgiving! 

Bringing Baby Home

I intended to write this a week after Austin's birth - then a week turned into two - and now its been over a month BUT here I am with a few minutes to spare for an update. There are a few things I want to cover in this post so it may be broken into a few sections - starting with the first nights home, maternity leave, venturing out, and a few little firsts.

At the hospital, as much as the nurses come and go - your baby also seems to sleep more often and less fitfully. Then they release him to his parents, who naively expect this sleep pattern to continue at home, and he becomes bionic in his baby strength, baby arm-flailing, and baby lungs. One thinks babies cry because they are hungry or dirty, but at bedtime there is a whole arsenal of sounds they can pull from. There is the wimper, the grunt, the fart, the fart-wimper, the pre-cry, and the full fledged breakdown - among others. If you can catch him at the pre-cry, you may have a shot at soothing him in a reasonable amount of time and putting him back down in about a half hour but if you miss that opportunity and don't respond in time, you could find yourself shushing, feeding, bouncing, and pleading for 90 minutes. I don't know how the nurses do it in the hospital, but the joke is on you when you get home and think you can just put your baby to bed.

The hospital pediatrician suggested we sleep with Austin in our room for the first 6 months. 6 months!! Long story short, this lasted 2 weeks. When your baby is in your room, you hear every single sound - most of which mean nothing but still have you out of bed checking on him. Then, when he isn't making a sound you assume he isn't breathing so you are out of bed again to make sure he is still breathing. Between the sounds and non-sounds, you clearly aren't sleeping. Also, we do not live on the salary of a pediatrician therefore its not like Austin is in one wing and we are in another. His room is 10 feet from ours so monitor or not, we can still hear all the things we need to and everyone is much happier about life.

DJ and I found solace in swaddling or "taking away his arm privileges"  as we called it. Babies tend to wave their limbs erratically in their sleep, often waking them from the slumber you worked so hard to achieve. Don't undo your hard work and swaddle the heck out of your little one. He will look like a silly little burrito person, but that's ok! Its definitely worth it. Also, you have to put a little muscle into it, since you have to pin your babies arms down at his side - but remember this could equal an extra hour of sleep. Priceless.

Also! At the hospital, allow the nurses to take your baby for a few hours. These will be your last nights of sleep for a few months and relish in them. Plus, as the mommy, you have so much other stuff going on between your hormones, your boobs, and your angry girl parts - not having the extra worry while you are trying to take a pee is worth it. DJ and I didn't know any better so we had Austin with us 90% of the time - which was beautiful and loving of us, but  again - blissfully ignorant.

Hurricane Sandy

Hurricane Sandy had been described as the Perfect Storm, Frankenstorm, or Storm-a-geddon. She was the 2nd largest hurricane on record and the 2nd costliest, losing to Hurricane Katrina in 2005. She also decided to hit the mid-Atlantic on October 29th, the day after Austin was born.

The Casino Pier Roller Coaster at Seaside Heights, NJ 

Like Hurricane Irene last year, I probably didn't take the storm seriously enough but once I was admitted to the hospital, home maintenance went out the window. Our room was facing the inside courtyard/roof of the hospital so we were incredibly secure and probably safer there than anywhere else. For this reason, we couldn't see much of the storm from our window.

Monday night the hospital lost power and switched to generators. All things considered, this wasn't a big deal for our new family recovering in Labor and Delivery, but selfishly - we lost TV reception. Sleep deprived and limited to activities, space, and entertainment - things got very boring very quickly. Try as we might to dose off in between feedings and crying, it proved near impossible since we were constantly getting interrupted by the hospital staff for one reason or another - food delivery, blood pressure checks, hearing checks for Austin, introducing the new nursing staff, paperwork, etc. I'm glad we were in good hands, but I didn't need a formal introduction and life bio of everyone that walked into the room. We felt the need to be nice to everyone because we are nice people, but this resulted in way too much conversation, fake laughs, and a lot of "no, thank you - we are really ok.".

Flooded parking lot of taxis

Meanwhile, DJ's parents had come up Sunday night to meet Austin and stayed at our house while we were in the hospital. As the storm came Monday, we were told by the staff that only First Responders and Hospital Staff were allowed in and out of New Brunswick, so no visitors allowed. This was nice because it allowed the three of us to spend the day as a family, but again - with no TV - it wasn't super thrilling.

Monday evening we were told there may have been water issues, so the hospital staff came in and filled a bucket with water so the toilet would flush. Then Tuesday we were told the hot water was being turned off at 11:30am so I took a quick shower, along with every other able bodied patient in the hospital so it wasn't exactly warm. Oh well. At this point we were so ready to get home it didnt matter whether I was clean or dirty.

Meanwhile, at home we had lost power and a branch was on the roof. I'm still not entirely sure of the damage, but I know our gutter is messed up and there is a tarp on the roof. We may have lost a shingle and there may be some damage to the siding. DJ's parents held down the fort which was much appreciated and we came home to a secure home.

Powerless, DJ and I spent Wednesday and Thursday shuffling back and forth between our house and my parents. Compared to other parts of the area, we were certainly lucky, but it is hard coming home with a new baby and feeling displaced. We also didn't want any one set of grandparents to feel neglected so we did our best to split time evenly. It was certainly doable but stressful.

Power came back Thursday afternoon (yay!) but now the gas situation is out of control. Lines can be up to three hours long with a 10 gallon limit on purchases. Last I heard, cars with odd number plates could receive service on odd days and even number days for even plates. DJ was able to skip the line and fill up as a first responder at a nearby gas station, but a lot of people are rationing their gas.

Labor Remix

All of the birthing lists suggested bringing things to distract you during labor and pass the time. Well, we didn't have time but had a kick-ass labor mix planned for Austin's arrival. So our hard work doesn't go to waste, this was our playlist:

Ausitn and Me - Day 8 

1. Push It - Salt & Peppa

2. Bad to the Bone - George Thorogood and the Destroyers

3. 1812 Overture

4. Push - Matchbox 20

5. I'm Coming Out - Diana Ross

6. Pressure - Billy Joel

7. Under Pressure - Queen

8. You can do it, Put your back into it - Ice Cube

9. Hips don't Lie - Shakira

10. Breathe In, Breathe Out - Machine Head

11. Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash

12. I Wanna Be Sedated - Ramones

13. I want a new drug - Huey Lewis and the News

14. Don't Stand So Close to Me - The Police

15. Got to Get you Into My Life - Beatles

16. Born to be my Baby - Bon Jovi

17. Baby Got Back - Sir Mix A Lot

18. Born to Run - Bruce Springstein

19. Ice, Ice Baby - Vanilla Ice

Cool list Mom! 

20. Your Momma Don't Dance - Poison (even though she really loves it!) 

Bearing Down for Sandy, Bearing down for Baby!

As the mid-Atlantic beared down in preparation for Hurricane Sandy, DJ and I went into labor.

My first "contraction" came at 4:35 am, although at the time I didn't know it was a contraction. I had trouble falling back to sleep so I took a minute to update my Fantasy Football Team, trading Brandon Bolden of the Patriots for Steven Jackson of the Rams. The trade would later prove to be lame with Jackson only earning me 5 points, but I still won the match.
Anyway, thats not important.

After my trade, I went back to sleep, waking up now and then with a "kind of pain, but not really" until 6:30. That last "contraction" had a little something special to it. An extra kick, if you will so I stayed awake and hung out in the bathroom since I couldn't think of a better place to go.

Close to 7:00am, DJ was up with me and we started timing things. The spacing was so erratic and I still wasn't sure if we were in labor so we just toughed it out. All breathing techniques went out the window and I resorted to some kind of hyperventilation breathing and writhing in the fetal position.

Near 9:00 am we called Dr. Beim and were connected with his dispatch service where DJ had to get a little sassy with his receptionist. Was this an emergency? Well, maybe? My wife isn't suffering from stab wounds to the chest, but she may be in labor. By this time, I was thinking there is no way I can do this for 16 hours - I will need drugs.
Beim told us to call back in a few hours if contractions become more intense. Sometimes the pains will subside and it will all be a false alarm.

It felt like as soon as DJ hung up the phone, the contractions went from 7 minutes to 3 minutes to 2 minutes - although, I admit it was hard to tell. The intensity  would subside, but it never really went away so I was just guessing when one ended and a new one started at this point. DJ told me that after the 4th "big one", he would call Beim again. In the meantime he was singing the few bars of "Afternoon Delight" that he knew - which was actually quite enjoyable.

At 9:45 I made the call to home and told my Dad we were on our way to the hospital . I really wanted to wear my lucky Giants shirt, that I had worn to all Petry's major appointments, but I was so hot that long sleeves were out of the question. I wore a pink Old Navy tank instead and the cold air felt delicious as I hobbled my way to DJ's truck. To the outside world, I was probably inappropriately dressed but if anyone told me that, I might have ripped their head off.

Some might say, "shit got real" on the way to the hopsital and thank GOD! St. Peter's is only 15 minutes away and there was no one on the road this early on a Sunday. I couldn't get comfortable and was probably stopping circulation in DJ's hand as we made our way down Route 1. The one traffic light we hit was a fate worse then death as I thought my insides were going to rupture out of my body. At this point, I was really hoping this was labor because if it wasn't I was in some serious trouble.

We got to the hospital and DJ got me a wheel chair. Leaving his truck, he took me up to labor and delivery. Things get a little foggy here, but I remember someone asking if we were doing cord blood, DJ having to run back down stairs, move his truck, get our things, and me telling the nurse (Carissa) that I was scared. I also asked if I could keep my sports bra on because I didn't want to be like one of the ladies in the birthing DVD that have their boobs exposed. I was told no, but my gown was securely tied in the back.

We beat Dr. Beim to the hospital so a tall Indian Dr. Patel asked if I wanted an epidural. He had a little pony tail which I thought was interesting.
Me - "How far am I?"
Dr. P - "9 cm"
Me - "What number do I have to get to?"
Dr. P. - "10 so you really won't have time for an epidural anyway"
Me - "Oh...."(exasperated sigh)..Can I get anything?"
Even if I had time,  I was also nervous about getting a needle in my spine since I couldn't sit still and didn't want to be paralyzed. Instead I got something that began with an N put into my IV that was supposed to ease the pain. They might  have completely lied to me, but just knowing or thinking there was potential relief worked for me. Then another doctor with a beard came in and poked around, said I was doing well and then left.

In  the movies it looks like the actress does four or five good pushes and out comes baby.
Not so much - pushing is long, exhausting, and intimate.
My mom had joined the room as Carissa held one leg, DJ the other, and Dr. Beim stared intellectually into my girl parts. He was so calm and collected - but I guess that's his job.
I couldn't seem to differentiate pushing and screaming so every time I was asked to push, I also screamed. I thought the baby would just come flying out since I had dilated the required amount, but I was a fool. So I pushed on my back, I pushed on my side, I pushed during contractions, and I pushed during things that weren't contraction but urged me to push. Somewhere along the way I got ice chips and a cold compress.

Pushing is also frustrating because, lets say for every 3 pushes, the baby gets sucked back inside a little when you are done with that round so you are always taking a small step back. At one point I swear his head was out and I was in the clear, but who the heck knows. I saw DJ take a peak and I remember thinking that was a bold move. He can never unsee what he just saw. Who knows what things looked like down there. I also heard my mom ooo-ing and eesh-ing  in the background, pacing with her hands clasped at her chest.

So we pushed on and at some point I got the go ahead to scoot down and put my feet in stirrups. I guess this was the big moment. Again, things are unclear but I remember feeling something down there coming out and not getting sucked back in. I'm sure instructions were given but I was so focused on pushing, I'm not sure what was said. I remember giving one last grunt, feeling a pull, and then something squiggly, skinny, and slimy coming out. I am guessing this was the legs and umbilical cord.

Austin David Lathroum entered the world on October 28th at 12:03pm weighing 7 lbs, 6 oz. and 19 3/4 inches long.

He was placed on my chest and I said "Happy Birthday" in an excited  but exhausted whisper. I didn't cry yet, but looked up at DJ and said "we did it!".

He was then whisked away for the appropriate measuring and cleaning while I was cleaned and stitched up. There is something disheartening about seeing a man with a medical grade needle and thread down by your chatchki. You are convinced it will never be the same and, like it or not, Austin will be an only child. I don't remember too much of this part either, but I know I was insanely thirsty. Fortunately my mom was there to feed me ice chips, which were delicious, and life was good while DJ went off to do first-time dad things with the nurses.

After 6 hours of labor and, statistically, a smooth delivery, Austin, Daddy. and Mommy were set up in our room in time to watch the Giants beat the Cowbys 29-24. 

Dear Recumbent Bike

Dear Recumbent Bike,

I owe you an apology.

In college, I referred to you as the "hang over bike". The piece of cardio equipment used by my peers and I when we were walking zombies but felt a trip to the gym was necessary to discount our mid-night meatball sub beer munchies or to sweat out one vodka cranberry too many.

I saw people study their biology notes on you in preparation for their final exams or read Grapes of Wrath for the umpteenth time for their English class. Those people weren't really working out. They were doing homework and moving their legs in a circular motion. That doesn't count.

I teased your existence. I considered you fake.

Now, however, I respect you entirely. You aren't just for geriatrics, hung over college students, or physical therapy patients - you are also for pregnant people who are just too damn stubborn to give up a day at the gym. You are challenging as your seat reclines at an awkward angle and, at 5'3", I seem to fall right in between two adjustment slots at your base.

Unlike the other stationary and speed bikes, your seat is comfortable and you offer two options as handle bars which comes in handy as one adjusts speed and resistances. You do not cause cramping, pinched nerves, bizarre fetal movement, or lower back pain as do the other cardio machines. You are pregnancy friendly. You are glorious!



37 weeks

So yes - it is true that once my baby arrives, I will visit you less. I will not watch Rachel Ray and learn to make pesto sauce or The Doctors and learn the warning signs of meningitis, but I will respect you and your purpose. I will honor your unbiased approach to fitness and your understanding of people regardless of age, fitness level, trimester, or ability. And I will most certainly thank you for making physical fitness possible, albeit minimal and light, during the last weeks of my pregnancy.

Always,
Elizabeth

 

When ignorance is bliss

Sunday the 9th DJ and I attended our birth/parenting class and I kind of wish we didn't and just winged the whole labor and delivery portion of pregnancy.

The class opened with a clip of Bill Cosby doing stand up where he talks about "Natural Child Birth". If you haven't seen it, it is certainly worth looking up.
Anyway, we thought the class would have an element of humor, be a little light hearted, and teach us the ins and outs of labor. It seemed we were the only couple in the class with any sense of humor so from 9 to 4pm we suffered through ridiculous breathing exercises, poses, and posters laughing only to ourselves because everyone else was lame.

The poses we learned were to help the woman get comfortable as labor progressed. Unless you have the inability to move, I feel as though these are things one could figure out of her own. The same goes for the breathing exercises that will more than likely go out the window when "shit hits the fan", as they say. Oddly enough noone found it funny as we breathed our way through fake labor, asked for belly and back massages, or positioned ourselves to best ease the weight of our contracting uterus. Meanwhile, DJ and I are laughing hysterically at the ridiculousness of it all. Clearly we were getting an "F".

The day progressed with a video where we witnessed the miracle of birth. DJ decided to close his eyes during this part of our day, but I decided since its my body, I should know what happens down there. It was a bad idea. The video was from 1972 and these women looked miserable, sloppy, and sweaty. For some reason there was a lot of boob exposure as well, which made it awkward, and then spouses or "labor partners" looked creepy and annoying.

One man said his wife found his coaching was most successful when he got "three inches away from her face and made encouraging remarks". Are you kidding me! If you are three inches from my face, you are going to get slapped.
One woman said when she was tired and about to give up, her baby started crowning and she reached down between her legs and touched the top of his head. Aside from being incredibly awkward to watch, it made me cringe as the camera zoomed in on her hoo-ha. My body decided to phyiscally react to the scene by recoiling in my folding chair while the rest of the women seemed to lean forward eagerly, excited to excrete a fuzzy topped watermelon out of their girl parts.

This video was followed by another award winner regarding pain management options- none of which were appealling. We also saw the little suction cup thing that goes on the babies head if he or she gets stuck on the way out.

The class ended with procedures and practices once our fetus enters the world and becomes a baby. We covered car seats, pediatrician hunting, and breast feeding. St. Peter's is obviously a Catholic hospital so breast feeding is STRONGLY encouraged to a point that when I asked what would happen if a woman could not produce enough milk, our teacher looked at me as if I committed a deadly sin. She danced around the answer until I asked if my child would be left to starve. She ended with an "if all else fails, then I guess we will give your baby a bottle" response. Well gee, thanks lady!

Apparently failure to breast feed means you are a bad parent. So does going back to work as our teacher had a naive answer when asked about the use of breast pumps - "well you won't need a breast pump if you aren't going back to work since you will also have access to your baby". Last time I checked it was 2012 and most couples, partnerships, or mothers in general do not have that luxury. Many of us will have to spend those weeks off eeking by on our 60% salary with every intention of returning to the work world.

We did leave with a few useful tips like how often to feed your baby during the first weeks, how to time the feedings so you get a longer stint of sleep at night, what things might look weird on your baby when he/she first arrives but are actually normal, and how long labor may or may not be. The tour of the hospital was also really helpful and the fact that we will get our own rooms was certainly appealing. If I one day have the opportunity to teach a birthing class, I will certainly make it much more open mined, fun, and audience interactive.

PS. Even if you mean it as a thoughtful, endearing compliment to a pregnant woman, do not tell a woman her "face looks fuller" at 7 1/2 months. She doesn't hear that. She hears "you're fat" and dwells on it all day.