Saturday, February 14, 2009

much love to ya

how do i love thee?

my bdub
-do you know what it does to a woman to anticipate a greasy, sticky, enchilada-y mess in the kitchen, only to walk in there and find the dishes done, the stove wiped, the ingredients put away and the pan soaking in soapy water? you rule.
-thank you for being patient with my neuroses. and for being so kind to me, even when i don't deserve it.
-you rule for being forthright with the Professional. i appreciate that you are 100% committed to us.
-the late night/early morning feeding. have i mentioned that you rule?
-you are so cute when you come to work with max.
-you are so good with everything you do with the boy, for that matter.
-thank you for working hard to take care of us (even the poopy work).
-thanks for cracking me up on a daily basis, several times a day.

my boy
-i love you: your milky smiles and gummy grins, your tiny hand clutching me, your coos... irresistible.
-how did i get such a good sleeper?
-thank you for minimally fussing. really.
-you are so much fun! thanks for proving to me that this does just get better and better.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

lil' hug

isn't it amazing how the tiniest detail can spark a memory?

i was strolling with max during yesterday's unseasonably gorgeous afternoon, when i spied an empty little hug container on the ground (i have recently found out that these are also referred to as "quarter water" in some parts. these were never more that a dime when i was little....i am old).

i was immediately reminded of trips to the grocery store with my dad, and the bribes he would use to get me to go: little hugs. i got a little hug upon completion of our trip (either to Kroger or Super Cheap, the other grocery store in our part of morgantown at the time). it occurred to my 35 year old self that despite years of believing that my dad really, really wanted my company (sometimes he would practically BEG me to go with him)....perhaps he was just getting me out of my mom's hair for a while? after all, i am one of five.

so i sent him this email:

subject:
quick question

hi dad,
something occurred to me today that i had to ask you about:

when i was little and you used to bribe me with a little hug (remember those?) to go to the grocery store with you, was it because you really wanted the company or because you wanted to do mom and favor and give her a break?

it's ok if it's the latter, of course, because i always only thought the former and never suspected otherwise until today. i guess that is what being a parent does to you. :)

so anyway, job well done (but please do answer me honestly).

xo
nowlzie


and here is my dad's reply:

Interesting question, Noe. It was a little of both, but mainly because I wanted you to tag along. As I recall the bribe sometimes went beyond a hug to a candy bar.
Thanks for the wonderful memories. It made me misty.
dad


Wednesday, February 11, 2009

favorite things: new mama edition

in the same vein as last year's favorite things post (ala oprah), i give you the new mama edition! these are a few of my favorite things which i could not have lived without during the first few months of new motherhood, many of which i never would have suspected would become so indispensable.


the happiest baby on the block dvd (harvey karp)



ah yes, the five s's: swaddle, side, suck, swing, shhh. it's hard to know what to do as a new parent of a screaming babe! at the first viewing of this dvd, bdub started to cry. he felt so empowered. best of all, the techniques work! i think an amazing baby gift would be a copy of this dvd, a swaddle blanket (see next item) and a couple of pacifiers (see item after next).


the miracle blanket



organic cotton. no snaps, pins, velcro, nothing. simply the best (though i also really like the stretchy swaddle blankets, too). as an aside, doesn't the baby in the above photo look just like max?


soothies pacifiers



accept no imitations. these do tend to take some getting used to, appearance-wise. since you can see into the baby's little mouth, bdub claims that they kind of look like something out of a marilyn manson video when in use.


sophie the giraffe




the french classic. here is what ecobabygear.com has to say about sophie:

"Sophie the Giraffe, full of discoveries and activities to awaken baby’s senses!

Sight: The dark and contrasting spots all over Sophie the Giraffe’s body provide visual stimulation and make her easily recognizable to baby. She soon becomes a familiar and reassuring objet.

Hearing: Her squeaker keeps baby amused, stimulates his hearings, and helps him to understand the link between cause and effect.

Taste: Sophie the Giraffe is very flexible and has lots of parts for baby to chew (ears, horns, legs). She is perfect for soothing baby’s sore gums when teething and is completely safe. Made of 100% natural rubber and food paint.

Touch: Sophie the Giraffe is perfect for baby’s small hands. She is very light and her long legs and neck are easy for baby to grip. She is very soft to touch, just like baby’s mummy, stimulating soothing physiological and emotional responses.

Smell: The singular scent of natural rubber (from Hevea tree) makes Sophie the Giraffe very special and easy for your child to identify amid all his other toys. "



cotton zip up pajamas



so great when it's the 3 am diaper change and you don't have to fasten a million snaps. surprisingly hard to find, especially in cotton (we avoid fleece; as our friend mags warned, "nowlze, it's a pressure cooker.")


jj cole pacifier pod



such a simple thing: a little purse for your pacifiers! just the right size to hold two. keeps 'em clean and velcro's to any bag.


clip-on mobile



this has also been a lifesaver. clips to the shelves that hang over the changing table for diaper changing distraction. clips to the side of the crib, to the car seat, to wherever! max loves this thing and rarely fusses when he has his diaper changed.


mustela products



i got tons of this stuff as shower gifts, and i will use every last drop of it all. the foam shampoo for cradle cap is fantastic. the diaper cream is super-concentrated, and the lotion is heavenly. the entire line smells incredible: light, yet blends well with that perfect, natural baby head smell.


bebe au lait nursing cover



i resisted buying this for a long time. i mean, i should be able to nurse wherever, whenever, right?! other peoples' comfort be damned! that may be all well and good in theory, but there are certain times and places where popping out my 40 DD's (yes, that's what i am rockin' these days, lord help me) is less than ideal. like in therapy. or when i go to hear bdub play at church. church and boobs just don't mix. the bebe au lait is a necessary evil, and i am always happy to have it when i need it.


american apparel hoodies and onesies



finding plain, unadultered clothing in solid colors is nearly impossible. thank god for american apparel. great colors, nice cotton, sweatshop-free. plus, max and his dad can match! cute!


diapers.com



several friends recommended diapers.com to me, and young grasshopper that i am, i have passed on the rec. to other new moms. diapers.com rules. they have free shipping over $49, their diapers arrive in two days or less, and they are WAY cheaper than anywhere else. they don't just sell diapers, either. they sell EVERYTHING. in fact, i'd bet you could probably find every item of my favorite things on that website! you also get credit when you recommend people, so if any of you dear readers decide to order from them, tell 'em nowlze sent you.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

THIS is it

finally, i can put into words what it is i am missing....the missing piece that has been plaguing me, even as i emerge lil' bit by lil' bit from my fragile bluebird-like shell.

i miss being carefree. even in my pre-babe bleak days of depression, i still was never a worrier. maybe i was ho-hum, but i was still ho-hum on the fancy-free side of things, if that makes any sense. i guess what i am trying to say is that my dreary days were more "fuck it" than "omg, i am totally worried about the state of things and therefore depressed".

but here i am, worried about the state of things. aside from a constant, nagging worry that i may be screwing up a fresh as snow little person who is thus far perfection, i am finding myself to be worried about the other stuff: the small stuff and the big stuff. regretting decisions made. wishing i had behaved differently. rationalizing. tangentializing (if that's even a word...). wishing away feelings, wishing away parts of my self. swamped with anxiety (ok...so maybe not swamped for the most part any more. but more often than not, feeling a little too overwhelmed to truly enjoy the moment).

and even when i am less-than-worried, i still can't seem to get a grip enough to be that carefree girl. and i loved that girl. i loved holding hands in the city, popping into this store or that cafe, hopping on and off of the train, not a care in the world. i long to be that girl again, with stroller and babe in tow this time, but i can't seem to get a foothold on that feeling again. what's missing? why is everything a minefield? an obstacle? something not to be dealt with (because i feel, maybe, that if i have to "deal" with one more thing i will just lose it, for real)?

what is the cure for this? time? i ask the mamas out there: do you ever feel truly carefree?

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

small victory II

the zen buddhists believe (or so i have been told) that one cannot multitask; that multitasking is, in effect, just trying to do several things at once and not giving your full attention to any of them...thus, doing them all badly. i tend to agree.

however, this morning i was forced to let out the biscuit and take care of baby simultaneously. baby who skipped his mid-morning nap. uncomfortable baby, red-faced crying baby who for some reason i chose to dress in a sweater vest and cords, complete with belt (??).

step one was to stick crying baby in crib, slip on my boots, and fetch the biscuit, who was collared and leashed. red-faced baby was changed out of ridiculous get-up and slung to mama in his pouch. i tried several futile attempts to select an item of outerwear that would be able to zip over both myself and the pouch of slung baby, but to no avail. i then unslung screaming babe, stuck a hoodie on him as gingerly as i could, re-slung baby, grabbed the essentials (umbrella, keys, cell phone) and headed out the door.

the biscuit skipped through the slushy puddles, the baby hushed himself, and all seemed right with the world. that is, until the biscuit had to go #2. i let him into our mess of a front yard (his pooping domain), where he walked around quite a bit before finding a suitable spot. and then, one of the worst possible scenarios occurred: the biscuit had a hanger-on. (how can i put this delicately? sometimes the biscuit ingests too many of my stray hairs--by accident, of course-- and tends to have some poops that literally hang on by a thread). by the grace of god, i had a plastic bag in my pocket.

the boy and i entered the yard, nearly slipped several times, and bent down to break the biscuit free of his hairy predicament. baby clung closely to me, closer than the hairs clung to the biscuit: i set him free and once again, all is well in wolfeinelli land. i am considering penning a letter to the makers of the kangaroo korner adjustable fleece pouch, letting them know how well their product performed under the pressure of these adverse conditions.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

small victories

first of all, how awesome is our new president? i am so inspired.

more personally speaking, i found the following blog-worthy: the other day, i ate pasta (fettucini, to be exact, which requires twirling) with my non-dominant hand. while breast feeding. i spilled not a drop on maximillian. now that's progress in my book.

here is max, obamacized:

Monday, January 12, 2009

Thursday, December 25, 2008

intoxicating...

i realized just now as i was rocking him that i would do every second of this again for one more whiff of that baby head smell.

i have told my friend deej, purveyor of the bubble roome line of bath and body products, that if he could bottle that smell and capture its likeness in a soap or body butter, he'd be a gajillionaire. in fact, i am shocked that demeter hasn't added the scent to its fragrance library.

so this is christmas--i hope you had fun

a big realization yesterday--

prompted by my last blog post, which left me feeling confused and with the dilemma as to whether or not i should take it down. i spoke with bdub about it and he asked me some very important questions:

why did you write it?
will it help someone else?
will it hurt anyone's feelings?

i wrote it to purge, to examine, to be honest.

i think it could help someone else, because it seems that new motherhood is supposed to be met with all sunshine and lollipops, and while max is my sunshine (especially these days), a lot of what surrounds me feels very gray. i don't think i am alone in that. i know it helps me when i get encouragement from others that they went or are going through the same thing.

it might hurt somebody's feelings.

then we talked about personal responsibility, and how it really bothers me when people don't take responsibility for themselves. and what i realized is that if i have felt isolated, then a large part of that is on my shoulders, whether i am in a place emotionally to deal with it or not. yes, i am fragile. yes, i am emotional and i am harboring a lot of anger (and i don't know what is prompting that or where it is coming from). but i am the only person who can take responsibility for it.

a part of doing that was admitting to myself that what i am feeling is not situational. bdub is here, and not at gigs (and i won't be on my own with max for a long night in the near future). it is christmas and we are together. i love this boy, i love my husband. so why am i still crying? why is the celine dion christmas album blasting in front of the stop and shop and the poster of obama in a boxing ring knocking out john mccain that i pass on flatbush avenue bringing me to tears? (god, i have such a love-hate relationship with my neighborhood).

we talked in the car and we agreed that i don't have to go on medication if i don't want to (and i really, really don't want to), unless i truly believe that it would do me and max more good than harm. we are taking positive steps by seeing The Professional who is closely observing me and who really cares. bdub is here to catch me when i fall.

so off we went to deanie's for a holiday party, and i didn't know how to feel. deanie is my one true friend up here. seriously. and of my true, deep, would cut off my pinky for them friends, i think i have about five or six total (one is deanie, one is my husband, one is my sister, you get the idea...). the last thing on earth i wanted to do was fall apart and continue the trend for the day (blubbering heap in the corner) in a semi-public arena.

to my surprise, i reconnected with so many great peeps, some of them new parents, some of them more seasoned, some of them grandparents. one was right there with me (or a month ahead anyway, which was a treat to see). two were expecting their second babies. they told me things like:

"the first months with my daughter were the hardest thing i have ever gone through in my life." (katie, mother of stella, age 2)

"i feel like it took us about nine months to really get into a groove." (aaron, father to esme, almost 3)

"honey, the wistfulness will pass." (christine, mother to owen samuel danger, age 13 weeks and lucy)

"i don't remember a thing, just getting her up in the morning and taking her to art classes." (ted on his 30-something daughter julie, grandfather to matias, age 2) and in response, "yeah, that's because you didn't have to do anything." (his wife, cynthia)


and all of the young parents said the same thing to me, echoing their refrain:

"it gets easier, it gets easier, it gets easier...."

and i woke up this morning (despite another night of insomnia...i just wanted to hold max but i settled for being held by bdub), actually believing them.

"it gets easier." (noelle, mother to max, age 9.5 weeks)

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

on motherhood...the first two months

(author's note: despite my musings below, the worst is over for your misanthropic friend. no more lonely nights until at least the second week of january! we even have new year's eve off and the lovely mags --aka the TRUE baby whisperer-- swooping in to catch us all. and furthermore, the help i have had from the women who care about me has been a gift for my soul and i am grateful. we are blessed...but in the name of keeping it real, read below.)



this motherhood business is hard. i am over being too ashamed or embarrassed or afraid to admit that. in fact, i don't know how anyone does this. i look at other women i know, some of them who seem fragile as glass or like they could be knocked over with a feather, and they have all done this and seem happier and stronger for it, which just makes me wonder more, "then what the hell is wrong with me?"

the people who care about me, even The Professional whom i go to for guidance at $150 a pop, seem to think it is really important --critical, even-- that i ask for help and communicate what i need. since my head has been a-whirl with so many thoughts ("time to feed, time to diaper, time to take out the dog, time to pump, time to sleep, can't sleep") and so much rumination (last week the light bulb gleamed brightly as i discovered that i have been stringing together events, oversights, wrongs, misgivings...ruminating to such a degree that i have been creating my own narrative, or so sayeth The Professional...so at this point, i must even question, "what is real? was this how this really went down?"), asking for help hasn't been easy.

i ask for help in my nowlze way: "so, like, if you wanted to stop over or something...i mean, if you'll be around...feel free. of course, no big deal if you can't. it's cool. but if you just wanted to hang out or whatever, we'll be here...." not surprisingly, my method has proven ineffective. what i really need is this:

-consistent, reliable, no strings attached help when i need it, usually between the hours of four and ten, wherein i can make specific requests and not feel bad about it, ideally, from my husband who would --could?-- ideally work less at night for much, much more money (and for the sake of realness, he is a peach when he's around..it's that being around part and need to make a living that get in the way)

more specifically, i need:

-to pee

-to let out my dog

-to take a nap

-companionship

-to feel like myself

-to be invited to things i would have been invited to pre-baby, even if there is no way in hell i will be able to attend

-some healthy food, chock full of vitamin b and omega 3's and iron (which the midwife reminds me is low, and that i really need to be getting if i am breastfeeding, along with an extra 500 calories a day MORE than i ate when i was pregnant)...and which last i checked are not contained within the wheat thins, panda black licorice, macaroni and cheese in the blue box or even the four day's worth of defrosted lasagna that i have been shoveling down.

-a glass of water (supposedly 8 ounces at every feeding session--ha!), the remote, my phone, the computer, and a comfy pillow within my reach when i sit down to breast feed

-conversation free of problem solving about how i am not sleeping, the drama in west virginia, other moms who are doing great or have overcome unimaginable obstacles, like having twins, or how antidepressants are nothing to be ashamed of and that maybe i am just a little bit low in the seratonin department and that they won't affect my breast feeding

-an apartment next door for my mom

-another car, or even a reliable car service

-spring time

-to feel normal again, upbeat, positive, loving towards everyone in my life and not just max

-to be told, by anyone in my life, "i am coming over and picking you up and wrapping you up in my little wing. we are going to get you out of your house and take you to my house where you will eat and rest. when you have had enough, i am taking you home. i won't take "no" for an answer. and don't worry about the fucking car seat-- i will deal with it. and we will be traveling by car and i won't pressure you to take the subway since i know you aren't ready for that yet.

or, we can stay at your place and i will not look at you funny or get all quiet or act like it is not annoying when max cries. it's annoying. i will leave you alone or i will take him, whatever you want. and when you're in the bedroom with him, i will chill or do your dishes or take out the biscuit or make you some tea...but i won't abandon you. i will stay, even if i just sleep in the next room. you can shut the door, but you are not alone. "

Friday, December 19, 2008

24/7 realness


one of the most fascinating attributes of my son, max (now age 8 weeks, 4 days) is his propensity for complete and utter realness. an 8 1/2 week old does not know how to be fake, he cannot yet be coerced into pleasing us, he doesn't do stuff just to be cute.

i am finding, then, that the adorable coos that come right after he sneezes, the dimpled smiles that greet me in the morning, the velvet painted child's eyes that hold my gaze in love and wonderment....they've hooked me with their sincerity, grace, and truth. i'm done.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

a little holiday cheer from the lasters

nothing beats a hannah anderson package arriving in the mail, especially when it contains goodies for both babe and beast!

check it:






Monday, December 1, 2008

max's soundtrack - october - november 2008



are you alright?- lucinda williams- west
when i'm sixty four- the beatles- sgt pepper's lonely hearts club band
comin' in from the cold- bob marley and the wailers- uprising
tiny dancer- elton john- greatest hits
the tide is high- blondie- autoamerican
i'm sticking with you- the velvet underground (sung by mom)- vu
let's get it on (live version)- marvin gaye- marvin gaye live
abc- the jackson five- abc
(what a) wonderful world...- sam cooke- best of sam cooke
don't worry baby- the beach boys- sounds of summer

Saturday, November 22, 2008

the promise

i wish i could remember the exact date; let's say some time a couple of weeks ago. i looked upon him and promised him that i would never put my own shit upon him, never make him responsible for dealing with my shit. never lay by burdens on him and reverse the crucial roles of parent and child. love him fiercely. allow him to make his own mistakes, to fall down and get back up, to let go, loosen the strings and seek, find, love.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

on motherhood

as i lie with babe beside me in his bassinet, i pray for sleep...for it to wash over me. for now i sleep with one eye open, ear to the cradle, brain prattling off the SIDS checklist, trying to reassure me that he is safe (no loose bedding, on his back, plenty of air circulation)... and as i ponder this loss--the loss of sleep and the fear of ultimate loss-- i think of my more selfish loss, too.

it is amazing how pregnancy prepares us for this sacrificial loss. i feel like for the better part of a year my body has been training me for loss. and here he is. and with every wave of emotion that rushes over me, every intense morsel of lovey goodness, the tide seems to take a little piece of the old me back with it. the girl (and yes, even a thirty-four i would still tend to view myself as a warped seventeen year old, a little reckless, a girl who would hoard love) without so many cares, whose life she had designed as such that she could go out on a figurative school night without fearing how she would feel in the morning...

love is funny this way. try as i might, i find it impossible to focus on the now, without looking to the past, to what i could have been until now, to how i could have loved my own mother more (as she made her way to the terminal i could think only of her sacrifice, and of the hundreds of times i had disappointed her or not loved her back). i think of the future: will he ever need me as much as he needs me now? will he ever know this love i have for him? should he?

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

the birth story



7:40 pm on saturday--started having contractions...different from others; rhythmic and dare i say enjoyable? i knew that this process was starting for real (i had lost my mucous plug the night before), and i enjoyed visualizing myself on top of the “wave”. i was calling upon so many resources i had over the last months....remembering an email from deidre and the idea of the time and space of contractions, thinking of them mathematically (and somehow, that did make them seem less powerful). i recalled the idea of riding a wave, and pictured myself floating atop them (and never tousled under), in a lotus position, looking peaceful. hippie, but true. i yoga’ed. i focused on my breath. i also thought- through every rush- of my zen friend, karen, and the idea that once i have the contraction, it is in the past and gone forever.



so i labored. i made soup. brian installed the car seat. i finished packing. i did everything but what i should have done, which was to get myself into BED!! i called karadean, i called my mom. i called deidre (my long distance doula and natural birth mentor!) who recommended that i call my midwife, have a glass of wine and get to sleep! she reminded me that i was about to run a marathon and would need to gear up.

sandy, my midwife, was glad that i called and also recommended that i get some rest. of course, rest was impossible. my contractions became more intense. i recall wanting to head in to the birthing center around 5 am, but brian was very instrumental in keeping me focused on our goal of not leaving until my contractions were four minutes apart....so i continued to labor. somewhere within that time my water broke (only as a trickle).

at about 11 am, we called sandy again and told her that we were thinking of coming in. she was surprised that she hadn’t heard from us earlier, which made me feel like i was doing well. we gathered up our things and headed down to fetch our friend joyous, who was caring for the biscuit and also riding along with us to the hospital. i had fewer intense contractions in the car, and recalled that being discussed in our childbirth classes: the tendency for contractions to get further apart and less intense as you move to new environments. this was evident throughout the process.

as we made our way to the front door of the hospital, i had a very intense contraction in the doorway. with my eyes closed, i leaned against the door and a stranger came up to me and said, “oh honey...you can do it” and touched me on the shoulder. a small thing, but a big part of my experience and the thread of connectivity i felt to women who had gone before.

we were welcomed by the nursing staff, one of whom was the wife of one of brian’s friends, adam armstrong (adam was the first musician brian met in new york who demonstrated to him how one can be both a successful musician and father). we were brought into the room, which looked more like a hotel room or a comfy bedroom than a delivery room. i was hooked up to a fetal monitor (which was required for just twenty minutes), and i labored there in a rocking chair while the nurse drew me a warm bath.

contractions:





i felt comforted, loved, and supported. i made my way to the bath, we put on music....the nurses gave brian a hair band and he tied up my hair. brian kept telling me that i was a jedi, and fed me pieces of a power bar. i felt so safe and loved, free to express my emotions, to cry, to let go.

the birth partner:





at my first cervical check, i had dilated to 7 cm, which is unusual for a first check!! we were thrilled. at the second check i was 9 cm, and right around the corner from pushing time. sandy offered me sorbet and ginger ale. everyone was so encouraging. at the third check, i still had a little “lip” of cervix to go.

the transitional stage was tough. i was feeling the baby’s head corkscrew down into the birth canal. sandy suggested that we walk the halls, and that i lean against her and pull on the rails of the walls when the contractions hit. i didn’t like the positions in the halls. i had to pee terribly, yet my bladder wouldn’t empty. i felt exposed. unsafe. with every reassurance that i wouldn’t push the baby out while in the hallway or on the toilet, i remained unconvinced.

we returned to the room and i tried, unsuccessfully, to push. my bladder just felt too full, so i was given a catheter (unmedicated), which hurt like hell and terrified me. there was a changeover of nurses, and my awesome little coven of faery wood nymphs split up and left. they were replaced by a nurse who was simply uninterested in assisting us with the process in the same way (she seemed more interested in what everyone was ordering from the takeout menu, myself not included). the instructions for pushing were overwhelming: “elbows out! pull on your legs! push! chin down! eyes closed! push! no-- not with your face! push!”

my contractions petered out. they were still intense, but few and far between. i knew that there was an emotional block for me with the pushing--what was i afraid of? i think i was afraid to parent, afraid that i wouldn’t love my child enough, afraid of who he would be and who i was becoming. sandy discussed my options with me, and told me that i would need to ramp these up. she suggested pitocin (and we had tried everything---black and blue cohosh, hours of nipple stimulation, squatting, bouncing, walking). i said that if we were transferring to labor and delivery and i would be getting pitocin, than i would be getting an epidural as well. to me, the dream was over, and to sandy, this meant that perhaps i would sleep and get my strength back up.

i knew as i was wheeled onto the elevator and brought to the next floor up that i was going through another transition, from a natural, normal birth to a medical one. i was immediately strapped to a continual fetal monitor, put into bed, given a blood pressure cuff (from which i still bear the marks on my upper left arm), brian was shoved aside. the attending doctor came in and gave me an internal exam--he seemed disinterested in my requests in general. it seemed that my nurse and sandy were at odds.

i was prepped for the epidural, and told that if i had a contraction while the needle was being inserted into my spine i was to hold still and not move. of course, just as i was being given this instruction, i began to have a contraction. i begged the anesthesiologist to wait just fifteen seconds to insert the needle, and was given no response (though i did believe that he waited. brian says otherwise.). this became a point of contention between brian and sandy and the anesthesiologist, and made me sad. it took three sticks with the needle, and i was numbed. numb to the process, numb from the waist down. i was given a catheter again and could have cared less. i was given pitocin and never felt a contraction. i slept for two hours.

i awoke and was asked if i was ready to push. i was. i pushed and pushed. they asked me if i was feeling the contractions and, barely, i was...enough to take advantage of them, to override them, show them who was boss and f@*&ing PUSH.

sandy could see the head and was saying, “all that black hair!” wha? black hair?! who was this little guy on his way out? brian was holding my left leg and breathing with me through every push. the nurse was annoying the crap out of me, kind of half- whining, “cmon. push. you can do it. push push push.” i chose to focus on sandy.

max made his arrival in a swish of poop, much of which was running down my thigh. he was suctioned, he let out the cry of the living and (thank god) was placed upon my chest. this squirmy, squishy, wide eyed little alien baby. here he was.

my body, on the other hand, was unsuccessfully delivering the placenta. it was “retracted”, and not coming out. i was hemorrhaging and passing out. brian was ushered out of the room and he and the baby were sent to the nursery. the attending doctor returned, this time with a resident who had popped in earlier to take a gander at my gaping vagina (without so much as introducing himself....asshole). both of them got to work on detaching my placenta as i began to feel myself getting woozy. the humorless attending found nothing but puzzlement in my interest in seeing the placenta, which i argued to him that i had grown in the past ten months and wanted to see what it looked like. after i was stabilized, brian said that he overheard the resident tell someone in the hall that they “probably wouldn’t need to take [me] up to the OR after all”. gulp.

once i was in order, i rested for a couple of hours with my sweet new boy. we were wheeled up to recovery, and most of the rest of that time immediately following max's arrival is a blur...

the hospital stay on the recovery floor was a mixed bag, but in general a good experience. max was so chill that he was the demo baby for “how to give a sponge bath”. he’s a nursing champ, and his discharge weight was the same as his birth weight! (7 lb 10 oz) . brian was present at max’s circumcision, as he believes that if he is going to have an elective procedure procedure performed on his child, then he is going to have the guts to bear witness to it and not turn a blind eye. so brave, both of my boys.

and as for me, i think it is obvious that i am in love. i feel like there is a magnifying glass on my heart, like in the grinch who stole christmas, and that is it bursting as my heart has grown three times its size. even through the sleepless nights, i cherish knowing that this phase will pass, and sadly i acknowledge that its all a phase, every day a milestone.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

life is sweet



maximillian morgan wolfe arrived after 34 hours of labor on monday, october 20, 2008 at 3:31 am. 7 lb, 10 oz. 21 inches long. beautiful, amazing from head to toe.

the child barely cries. he nurses like a champ. he sleeps! what did i ever in my life do to deserve this beautiful boy? as the song goes,

"somewhere in my youth or childhood
i must have done something good."

Saturday, October 18, 2008

yearbookin' the biscuit!

here's the biscuit circa 1968. that's one hep dog:





i really like this one, too. the glasses definitely add a distinguished flair:





however, it's clear that the biscuit would have really been a child of the eighties. in fact, i think i went to high school with these guys in wv (not during the eighties, but we were a little behind the times):






disturbing....


in baby news, today is my due date, and i think things may be moving along. i don't want to gross anybody out, so i won't post details....but i will say that i had a little visitor called "the mucous plug" last night (click here for a detailed explanation). sweet.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

yearbook yourself!



once again, i am being a big old copycat of my friend kage....kage, i swear, imitation is the highest form of flattery and i adore you and your bloggy goodness. hope you don't mind, but i must share my yearbook photos with the dear readers!!

that said, your should all yearbook yourselves and send me a copy, or post the results on your own blogs!!! SO FUN!!


it is alarming how much this one looks like my mom:


but i think this one is my favorite....note the single long-stemmed rose and the solid gold dancer hair. that's hot!

Thursday, October 2, 2008

the kicker

last night, bdub convinced me to see one of his favorite bands -rudder- with him. bdub is excellent friends with two of the members and LOVES their drummer (and welcomes any opportunity to hear him play).



apparently, he is not the only wolfeinelli who is enthralled with keith carlock. our little max, who has been pretty mellow lately (aside from some twists and turns during my yoga class) perked up quite a bit when keith hit the skins. i swear, i think he was kicking along to the bass drum. no kidding. perhaps we've got a third generation drummer on our hands? crazy.

plus, he has dropped a little! i am experiencing "the lightening", and i love it! it feels good to be able to take a deep breath again.