This is my first day home by myself with Holden.  Rob had to return to work today, and boy, does his contribution to the whole childcare operation become obvious once he is no longer around to help!  It took me until noon to feed Holden, change a few diapers, give Holden a bath after peeing on himself (again), take a shower, drink a cup of coffee, and eat a bowl of cereal.  My lunch has been sitting in the microwave for an hour, awaiting an opportunity to get off the couch and get it.  Holden is a great baby—he really is.  Problem is, he does not want to be put down in a co-sleeper, boppy, or crib for even 5 seconds unless he is REALLY passed out.  He wants to be held ALL THE TIME.  He did manage to sleep for about 25 minutes, which is how I was able to sneak in a shower.  I am at least grateful for that.  We have his 2-week pediatrician appointment this afternoon.  I am curious to see how much weight he has gained.  He seems much bigger to me—he is heavier and looks much more filled out than he was at birth.  They (the pedi) mostly wants to see that he has regained his birth weight by 2 weeks, but I would not at all be surprised if he is inching up near 10 lbs. already.  He eats ALL THE TIME!  Which is great for me, because it’s making me lose weight like crazy and dang, it’s a hell of a lot easier than getting on the treadmill!  I usually pump milk in the morning so that we have a supply for going out around town (it’s hard to breastfeed in public with a baby that takes sometimes 15 minutes to latch on), or for when I just need a break and can have someone else feed him.  I have been lucky in that I have had no supply issues at all—I am so amazed at the female body’s ability to produce milk!  Holden had 4 oz. from the bottle this morning, plus he nursed for a few hours off and on all morning.  I don’t know exactly how much he is eating at this point, but I definitely am not worried about whether he is getting enough.  

Okay, so I do want to say a few things about recovery, as promised.  Most childbirth classes tend to focus on the labor and delivery part of having a child, but devote little or no time to the recovery portion of the experience.  This is a mistake for several reasons.  First, from my own experience, I spent a total of 3.5 hours in labor and delivery.  I then spent 4 days and 3 nights on the maternity ward recovering.  From my perspective, the preparation for the recovery portion of this whole experience would have been so much more relevant and important!  Due to the rapid nature of my delivery, we did not use any of our relaxation tools (massage oils, music, etc).  This isn’t to say that they aren’t useful, just that for our purposes, we didn’t end up being in a position to use them.  However, because we were in the maternity ward for so long, there are several things that ended up really coming in handy (and several which would have been helpful had we known we would have been in the hospital for so long). 

 

• Drink your water.  Drink it up.  Have a Nalgene bottle on hand and keep it filled and cold.
• Metamucil.  The hospital gave me stool softener, but trust me, you’ll appreciate the added benefit of fiber (but hopefully, you won’t have a 3rd degree tear that will necessitate this stuff).
• iPod and iPod player.  I cannot emphasize the importance of this enough.  Pre-load with relaxing music.  We kept the music on 24/7 at a low volume.  Holden was familiar with the music, so it helped soothe him and us.  Even the nurses commented on how relaxing it felt when they’d walk in the room.
• Adult diapers.  I laughed after delivery when I glanced at the woefully inadequate pads I had packed.  The hospital will provide diaper-like pads for your use, but it wouldn’t hurt to have your own on hand as well.
• Lansinoh (nipple cream).  I had to send Rob home to pick ours up.  I hadn’t packed it because I figured my nipples wouldn’t get sore within just a few days.  I was wrong.
• Nursing tanks are optional.  Frankly, you’re going to be topless for several days after you deliver anyway.  Skin-on-skin contact is a great way to get the prolactin flowing—the nursing bras and tanks can wait till you get home (unless you want to cover up for guests visiting you in the hospital).
• “Granny” underwear.  Pack underwear you don’t care about so you can just toss it when you are done.

 

 I’m sure I am forgetting some things, but that is probably the bulk of what you should bring with you for recovery.  A couple of other notes about our lengthy hospital stay:  Don’t be afraid to stay the maximum time alloted by your insurance.  You will get valuable help from the nurses and lactation consultants.  They can also take your baby to the nursery so you can get some much-needed rest.  They are your “back-up” so take advantage while you can because once you’re home, you’re on your own!  Expect the unexpected.  We would have gone home on Tuesday, but it was discovered that Holden had a touch of jaundice and required treatment under the UV lights.  Here’s our little Kosmonaut with his goggles to protect his eyes from the light:

Holden hated being in the “pod” for his treatments, but luckily he only needed it for 24 hours before his bilirubin counts were low enough to discharge him.  The day after we got home from the hospital, we had an appointment with a lactation consultant/nurse practitioner at our pedi’s office.  She weighed Holden.  He was 8 lbs, 1 oz, down 9 oz from his birth weight.  This is not atypical for babies to lose weight after birth, but the jaundice makes babies sleepy and less willing to feed.  And the less they feed, the less capable they are of riding the body of bilirubin.  The LC instructed us to feed Holden every 2 hours for 24 hours (whether he wanted to feed or not), and feed him in between those feedings if he was showing signs of hunger.  If he only fed off one breast, I was instructed to pump from the other breast and then feed him that milk from a bottle later on.  It was a VERY tough 24 hours.  I didn’t sleep.  But the next day at our appointment, Holden had gained 5 ounces!  Very respectable weight gain for only 24 hours!  The LC was pleased with this and told us to make sure he feeds once every 2-3 hours, but that there would be no need to continue to force him to eat from that point on.  Music to my ears, let me tell you!  Lactation consultants are awesome—they will help you!

Once you’re home, there are some things that are critical, including a freezer full of food:

This preparation was perhaps the most critical of all.  I am SO GLAD we had this food ready to go.  Good nutrition is really important for your recovery and for making milk.  It was so nice to just thaw some stuff and then essentially pop it in the oven before dinner time.  You don’t have to leave the house to enjoy good stuff!  If you do anything at all to prepare for the weeks following birth, do this!!!!!!  Also, big thanks to Sarah for her chili recipe.  It was absolutely delicious!

Another suggestion (and this is highly personal) is to limit your visitors within the first 2 weeks.  We had 2 good friends stop by briefly in the hospital while we were there, and then a friend came by to visit after we came home (she happened to be vacationing in VT at the time).  Grandparents waited till Holden was nearly 2 weeks old to come visit, at our insistence.  This was a smart move in my opinion.  This way, Rob was around for 2 weeks to help out with things, and now that Rob has gone back to work, my mother will be here this afternoon to help out during this next week.  It would not have made sense to have visitors descend on the house so early—I think the chaos would have been too overwhelming for us all.  Again, it’s just a personal opinion.

Okay, it’s almost 2 PM and I really should attempt to eat some lunch!

 

I just wanted to post an update about some of Holden’s first experiences since coming home with us!  We’ve already done so much more than I thought would be possible.  As Rob mentioned in the previous post, having a baby changes things, but not really in the way that everyone seems to suggest.  I had envisioned the first few weeks home with a baby as a nightmarish experience in which I would be chained to the house, unable to leave or resume any of our normal activities.  While the first few days were definitely an adjustment period, things have really been great and have gone much better than I think either of us anticipated.  When we first came home, we were still really struggling with breastfeeding.  We still have some hurdles to overcome, but by and large we are past the worst of it.  Holden was apparently a ridiculous tongue sucker in utero and did lots of tongue thrusting when we first started to nurse him.  It took the help of two lactation consultants, many many nurses, and a breastpump to help him get to where he is now.  I know that people say that breastfeeding is natural, and when he latches on perfectly, I would have to agree with that.  Problem is, he rarely latches on perfectly.  We’ve had to do lots of training with our fingers in his mouth to push his tongue back in and down.  We started him off with finger feeding while he was still in the hospital to help him use his tongue properly and to position his lips where they should be.  We still have to use a nipple shield, but we are trying to also nurse him without it on occasion.  It’s definitely been a trial and error process, but I feel confident that he will master it one day soon and all of the effort and sleepless nights will be a distant memory.  He has already come a long way.  My advice to anyone planning on breastfeeding is to anticipate some hurdles, but not to give up when it gets tough!!!  It can be very frustrating, but within a few short weeks, you will likely be on the path to a satisfying breastfeeding relationship.  Think about any other thing you’ve had to learn—you probably lost sleep over it, and it probably took you at least a few weeks to master it.  Breastfeeding is no different!  I think about how Holden had to learn to breathe on his own just two short weeks ago—this thought alone restores my patience with the whole process because I know he has so much to learn in such a short time.

 

Enough breastfeeding talk!  Some of Holden’s notable firsts include his first bath at home, his first trip to the garden, first walk around town, first time going out to eat, and first time meeting his Oma and Grandpa Friesel.  Rob gave Holden his first bath.  Holden LOVES to get a bath.  He smiles and laughs the whole time, and when you lay him on his tummy, he will push up from his arms and lift his little head up off the counter (Here is Holden’s first bath at home, 7 days of age):

Holden has been to the garden three times already.  He sleeps the entire time we are there.  I’m sure the fresh air is good for him! Here is his first trip to the garden, at 7 days of age:

Here is Holden’s first walk around town once his Momma was feeling up to it.  Holden was 9 days old here:

Holden has been out to eat three times already!  Here is his first trip to Halvorson’s, where Momma ate a metric f-ton of veggie wraps during her second trimester.  Holden was 10 days old here:

Holden meets his Oma and Grandpa Friesel at 12 days old:

Grandad and Grandma Chess will meet Holden soon!

To round out this post of first experiences, I should also add that this is the first time I have ever blogged with a baby sleeping on my chest.  It’s kind of nice!  I still promise to do a post about our protracted time in the hospital—there’s a lot to say, but I wanted to get some pictures up of Holden first!

Papa says…: Well, today marks two weeks.  It’s certainly an interesting adventure to have an infant around the house, that’s for sure.  Most things were slightly up or down from “as expected”.  Changing the cloth diapers?  Slightly easier than expected.  Giving Holden a bottle full of breastmilk?  Slightly harder than expected.  Sleeping at night?  Slightly easier than expected.  Leaving the house to do anything or go anywhere?  Slightly harder than expected.  Actually doing that stuff once we manage to leave the house?  Slightly easier than expected.

Of course, other things were a bit farther up or down that scale.  The first two nights home?  Much harder than expected.  Every night after that?  Much easier than expected.

That said, I want to briefly address something.  The most-often-heard phrase (for me at least) of the entire pregnancy was: “This is going to change your life forever.”  (Or some variation on that phrase.)  Two weeks into it, I would like to say that I really don’t think this is true.  There.  I said it.  The moment our son was born was a beautiful, awe-inspiring moment.  But I didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming urge to vote for McCain or decide that our VW Rabbit wasn’t safe enough or that I needed to start socking away more money every month.  This is not to say that my life is exactly the same anymore.  I’m not a dummy — I realize that we have a son now and that there is some added responsibility there, etc. etc. etc.  But it’s not like we didn’t know that.  It’s not like you go through the whole pregnancy thinking Oh, my life is always going to be EXACTLY LIKE IT IS RIGHT NOW even after the baby comes.  Maybe we were just well-prepared for this in the first place.  It isn’t like we impulsively traveled to exotic locations anyway.  It isn’t like we ever cavalierly dropped a couple grand on a TV or jumped out of airplanes for fun or even had large, frequent house parties.  Having a baby in the house just doesn’t seem (to me) to be that big of a lifestyle change.  And I think that if we do it right, we can keep doing things the way that we’ve been doing them — with some minor changes to procedure and some relaxation of Papa’s otherwise tendency toward rigid scheduling — without having to feel like we have sacrificed anything.

Which is not to say that things are exactly the way they were two weeks ago.  Some of the priorities that make up the cardinal directions on my internal compass do seem a bit realigned.  Those priorities were always there, it just seems like they have perhaps shifted a bit.  Like my personal magnetic north swung around a little.  Again, this isn’t anything drastic; these are feelings I’d always had about priorities that had always been there.  They are perhaps just slightly rearranged.  Spending the past two weeks with A. & H. has given me a chance to reflect on certain things and I’m beginning to think that I might need to line up some changes to ensure that I can live in a way that matches those priorities.

Maybe that’s what people mean when they say Oh, it’ll change your life forever.  But they never say it that way.

(NOTE: If you came here looking for updates about The Boy…  Well, A. has said she’ll be making a post along those lines soon enough.)

First, I want to extend my thanks and gratitude to all of you who have offered your well wishes and congratulations over the past several days.  There is nothing like having your closest friends and family share in the joy of an event as life-altering and wonderful as this one.  Second, I wanted to share our birth story with everyone (and I know a few pregnant ladies who read this and may find this information helpful).  If the story is disjointed or incoherent, please realize I have slept probably 10 hours since Saturday night.  

On Saturday June 21st, we enjoyed our typical weekend walk around town to the Farmer’s Market, library, waterfront, etc.  In the evening, we settled in at the house to watch a really horrible movie that we had rented from Blockbuster.  I was tired and not really into the movie, so I decided to go to bed before the movie had ended.  I crawled into bed around 11PM.  Within minutes of getting under the covers, I had a contraction that was so strong, I was sort of in disbelief that out of nowhere I would have such intense pain.  Pain isn’t even the right word (a point I will return to later in the story).  I have a term for these pains—I call it “torso vice,” meaning that the sensation could be compared with what it would hypothetically feel like to have your torso in a vice.  I got up out of bed and told Rob that I had a strong contraction.  Maybe 2 minutes later, I had another one.  I knew that we would be going to the hospital, and I also knew that we wouldn’t be waiting the normal amount of time to make our departure.  I tried to lay back in bed and wait out the 1 hour minimum time period that you’re supposed to wait before going to the hospital.  But the contractions were picking up—within just a couple of contractions, the intensity was unbearable and I couldn’t get comfortable.  We called the midwife.  She said that because I hadn’t been experiencing the contractions for very long, I should wait and see if they would go away.  I knew that they would not, and in fact, I had to hand the phone over to Rob because the next contraction came on and I could not carry on a conversation with the midwife.  We timed the next few contractions and they were about a minute apart.  I was admittedly beside myself because I didn’t think I could wait an hour and I was actually getting worried about not making it to the hospital on time (and it’s only 5 minutes from the house).  During one contraction, my water broke so we decided to call the midwife back.  Rob called and the midwife gave us the OK to come in.  Getting dressed was a Herculean task.  Walking down the stairs to get into the car was also difficult.  We parked in the parking garage, and from there, the walk to Labor & Delivery was a very long hike down multiple hospital corridors, up some stairs, an elevator ride to whatever floor Labor & Delivery is on, and then down another corridor.  We got buzzed into Labor & Delivery, and I had to sign some paperwork to get admitted.  I could barely sign my name, and I’m pretty sure if a handwriting expert was asked to analyze my signature and compare it with my non-labor signature, they would swear it was a different person.  We were greeted by our nurse, and she led us into our room.  She asked if I would be using pain medications.  I said no.  Then she asked if I preferred to labor in my own clothes or in the hospital gown.  I told her I needed to throw up and I did.  All of this time, I felt like my mind was sequestered in some remote part of my brain, and that the only thing guiding my actions was my body.  After I threw up, I remember thinking “Throwing up is a sign that you’re in transition—-we learned this in childbirth class.”  After I threw up, I stripped off all of my clothes and again, my sequestered mind said “A loss of modesty characterizes transition—we learned this in childbirth class.”  My midwife arrived and examined me.   My cervix was completely effaced and I was dilated to 8 cm.  What this meant to me was that the birth of our child was pretty much imminent.  However, this thought only occurred to me in that remote portion of my mind that had been tucked away—I remained focused on the very tangible sensations that were occurring in my body.  The nurse drew me a bath, and I stepped into the warmth.  The water was very helpful in relaxing me, although the contractions were still very intense and getting closer together.  The contractions I was feeling at that time, while extremely unpleasant, are better characterized as intense than as painful.  The intensity is something that takes over every part of you—-lights are distracting, sounds are distracting, being talked to is distracting, listening to people talk is distracting.  I remember being completely distracted when they would periodically place the external fetal monitor on my belly to check the baby’s heartrate.  And at one point, I told Rob to shush when he said I was doing a good job.  Distraction is oddly not a good thing when you’re in transition—bringing all of your focus to the sensations you are experiencing is an unavoidable aspect of this part of labor.  I found that rocking my hips in the tub was helpful—I breathed rhythmically through each contraction and in my head, I counted with each breath, knowing that the contractions would only last 60-90 seconds, and if I could get to 30 or 45 seconds, I would be halfway through that contraction.  Rob would apply cold wash clothes to my forehead, which was so nice.  He offered me water in between each contraction, and somehow I had the wherewithal to say “Water please” and then “Thank you” for each sip.  I knew in the back of my mind that transition is usually only 5-20 contractions, and I kept a mental note of how many had elapsed (in that remote, sequestered part of my mind), knowing that I would be that much closer to the end with each of those contractions.  After being in Labor & Delivery for a total of about an hour, my midwife checked me again and reported that I was about 9.5 cm dilated and that I could give little pushes if I wanted to, and to just follow what my body was telling me to do.  I wasn’t really sure how to push at first.  It’s not really a skill you can just practice.  I was pushing somewhat tentatively while in the tub.  Finally, my midwife suggested I get out to try different positions that might be more effective at pushing the baby out.  I was reluctant to get out of the warm water, but once I was out, I was so glad that she encouraged me to try something different.  At this point, the details are fuzzy for me because my eyes were shut the whole time and I was so out of it, I can’t really remember what order I did everything in.  I used the squat bar for a while, and at this point, I could really feel the pressure of the baby coming down and I was able to push with greater efficiency.  I pushed while on my knees and grasping the back of the bed.  I was using such force with my arms during the pushes that I was pulling the mattress off the bed and Rob had to hold it down while I pushed.  I pushed while laying in the bed and grabbing a towel that had been tied around the squat bar.  The contractions were one right on top of another at this point with practically no break in between.  I remember feeling so exhausted and wondering whether I would have enough energy to really get the baby out.  I also remember thinking (in that remote part of my mind) that pushing was far more work than I ever imagined.  Finally, my midwife had me grab my knees and pull back on my legs and push—she thought I was making the most progress this way.  I remember Rob saying he could see a head with hair on it.  The remote part of my mind was excited about this, but I couldn’t verbalize or express this excitement in any way because I was so focused on the work I had to do to make the contractions stop.  I felt the baby start to crown and the so-called “ring of fire,” which yes, did hurt, but for some reason the burning sensation was completely superseded by the intensity of the labor at that point.  Ordinarily, the pushing process is guided with care at this point to allow the tissues to stretch and accommodate the baby.  Unfortunately, the baby’s heartrate started to drop significantly at this point, and I sensed the room quickly fill up with a number of worried doctors who were all insisting that I push the baby out immediately.  They gave me oxygen to help the baby out under those conditions, and I was so consumed with the intensity of the labor that I practically tore the oxygen mask and other monitors off my body as I tried desperately to get beyond the pain of the contractions.  I understood (in the remote part of my mind) the urgency of the situation, so with one push, I released Holden out into the world after 2 hours of pushing.  I ended up sustaining a third degree tear (Google it if you wish) in addition to the episiotomy that was cut to help facilitate Holden’s arrival.  They put Holden immediately on my chest and I remember looking at him and thinking how completely unreal the whole situation was.  Someone in the room asked, “Do you know what you had?” and Rob responded “A boy!”  I hadn’t wondered whether it was a boy when he was born because I always had the sense that it was a boy.  When I first looked at his face, I knew I was looking at Holden!  I watched Rob cut the cord, and even though the pain and intensity of the contractions was immediately gone, I still felt like an observer that was somehow disconnected from the events around me.  Slowly, I started to re-gain my presence of mind and feel more in touch with what was happening.  I was given a shot of pitocin to get my uterus to contract as I was still bleeding more than they wanted.  Two surgeons came in to repair my tears, while Rob walked around the delivery room with Holden.  After I delivered and got my sutures, I was instructed to get up to use the bathroom.  I felt really short of breath, and when I mentioned this to my nurse and the midwife, they checked my pulse and blood pressure while I was standing.  Pulse was 187!  Blood pressure was low at 87/46.  They decided to give me IV fluids for dehydration.  Once I was squared away, I was able to cuddle with Holden again and look at my sweet baby’s face.  I could not (and still can’t) believe that he is my son.  He is so precious and perfect.  When I first saw him, I thought immediately that he looks like his papa, and also like his great grandpa Horst.  He has his grandpa Friesel’s coloring, with the dark hair and tan skin.  He is a mellow fellow and is usually content just being cuddled and talked to.  We were in the hospital from 1:00AM Sunday through 6:30PM Wednesday.  I will talk about our recovery in another blog post, as that was an adventure by itself.  

Holden Sterling Friesel was born at 5:02am on June 22, 2008 at Fletcher Allen Hospital in Burlington, Vermont.  He was 8 pounds and 10 ounces at birth and measured 21 inches crown to toe.  He has huge feet (for a newborn) and a full head of dark hair.  He is alert and active and has great muscle tone.

Amy was wonderful right from the start.  At 11pm on June 21st, she turned to me (after we’d just settled into bed) and said that “something is happening”.  The contractions came on fast and furious and we were at the hospital by 1:30am.  When the midwife first inspected her, she was already dilated to 8cm.  Amy can tell her side of the story later but from where I sit, she was a natural.  She knew exactly what to do and though the pushing phase went to 2 hours, our baby boy was born healthy and happy.

Amy and Holden are both doing wonderfully.

A hearty THANKS! out to everyone that has already sent well wishes (via text message, Twitter, email, etc.) and to everyone that reads this, please know that we are a happy family right from the start: