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Posts tagged ‘Baby’

The Baby Bjorn Bald Spot

Taken at 1:15:04 pm

Taken at 1:15:07 pm

(Times are approximate.)

It has become painfully obvious over this past week that what we have here is a Level 2 Klingon.

Level 2 you ask? While not as severe as a Level 1 (who will only be happy desperately clinging to Mom every minute of the day), Level 2s must be held by Someone every minute of the day. Sadly, in my case, there is little distinction, because 95% of the time I am the only option. And sadly for Eric (but happily for my sanity!) he is clung to 95% of the time he is home.

Makes me wish we lived closer to family, where there would be an abundance of willing arms. But this post isn’t to wax on about my homesickness. (I live in Manhattan! It’s 10 degrees warmer and 6 feet of snow less than MA! There is anything I want within a 3 block radius! I take George to poop in Riverside park and watch the barges roll down the Hudson! Or planes for that matter!)

Did someone say poop?

I’ve been thinking about my regrets about the last 10 weeks. Wondering if EJ hadn’t spent his first 6 weeks screaming and spewing sour milk, maybe we wouldn’t have spent all day and night holding him, soothing him. Maybe we would have tried baby chairs and mobiles sooner. Maybe he wouldn’t spend every night sleeping on my chest. (That’s right, not just in our bed, but on my chest. For weeks it was the only way I could get any sleep, and now I fear we have a very bad habit on our hands.)

I’m a firm believer in Do What Works, but holy god, I would love for something to work other than the Baby Bjorn. (Although, the Baby Bjorn is a lifesaver – it is by far his favorite carrier). He’s in the Baby Bjorn so much he has a bald spot where the back of his head rubs against the headrest. I wish I were kidding. I would take a picture for you, but he’s strapped to my chest (of course) and that makes taking pictures kinda difficult. Especially of him.

(The sleeping/napping/crib thing from a few weeks ago? Must have been a fluke. Or derailed by the vaccinations, because then he needed to be held for a few days straight cause he felt like crap, and there we are again, in the 24 hour holding pattern.)

I wonder how much is in his nature, and how much is a product of circumstance? Now that I know how to avoid making my milk POISON, will my 2nd child (a complete theoretical at this point – shudder) spend their first month happy and comfortable and be content chilling wherever I lay their swaddled little bottom down? Are all first children doomed to be experiments that we inevitably kinda screw up?

Anyway, this week has been a particularly tired one for me, and I’ve had to put the Endpaper Mitts on hold. It made me tired just looking at the tiny needles. Instead, I cast on (for the third time!) for a February Lady Sweater. Garter Stitch is just my speed right now. Plus it will be the first knitting I’ve done for myself in over 4 months, and right now, I need a little corner of the world that’s just for me.

This is the Brooks Farm Mas Acero I bought at Rhinebeck – the only thing I wanted to buy, and for this purpose nonetheless. (Crazy). I was worried about pooling, but it looks like it might just work out as lovely as it looked in the skein and wound up in the ball. (Fingers crossed.)

That is also the only patch of floor that is clean.


Motherhood: Nature’s Boob Job

At 6 weeks postpartum, all the effects of pregnancy are supposedly reversed and you are theoretically plain old human again. I just hit this milestone, and for the most part it’s held true for me. There’s one or two not-so-pleasant lingering effects of the pregnancy, but I trust that in time they’ll fade, and there are some surprisingly happy side effects.

Mainly, my perky new mom boobs.

They actually make me feel okay about the 10 pounds I still have to lose, because they make me look curvy, instead of just chubby which is how I’d look without them. I’ve always had the figure of a 12 year old boy, so you can imagine how thrilled I am about this.

Sadly, sometimes my new mom boobs aren’t so great. EJ has let us know that he hates it when I eat cabbage, onions, grapefruit, or tomatoes. Unfortunately, his primary form of communication is screaming his head off, and spewing copious amounts of sour milk everywhere. You’d think that would make it pretty clear that his stomach hurt, but it took us awhile to figure it out. In fact, we just figured out the tomato thing yesterday. (In case you’re wondering, no, yesterday was Not Fun.)

Anyway, today is the official end of The Seclusion, and I’m putting myself back into the world. Thanks everyone for all your super kind emails and comments while I was ‘away’. It made me feel Not Alone, even when I hadn’t left the apartment for 18 days straight.



I am happy to report that Pickles has turned, and the doctor has full confidence he will find his way out head-first. I would be more animated in my announcement of this news, but really? I haven’t slept for 3 nights straight. My brain is stupid right now. Basically the news from the doctor’s appointment goes something like this.

Happy. Big. 4 weeks to go. Look at the wee-wee! Good. Happy.

The Ubiquitous…

I am horribly unoriginal lately. Not only are the 3 projects I’m working on about the 3 most common knitting projects EVER, but I can’t even come up with an original word to describe how un-original they are. “Ubiquitous” seems to be more common in the knit-o-sphere lately than even “Rhinebeck” in mid-October…

You’ve already met the February Lady Sweaters, and the toe-up stockinette sock

Please say hello to the beginnings of a Baby Surprise Jacket! (5,378 of them on Ravelry alone), knit in the most neutral, boring wool possible.

It is a testament to EZ’s genius that in spite of all this, I am still in awe of the pattern, and already love it to pieces.

So was it any coincidence that the new Spin-Off arrived yesterday, and contained therein a gallery of BSJs knit in various, fabulous handspun yarns? I think not. The universe does work in mysterious ways. It wasn’t enough to knock me off from my oatmeal colored project above (I have a coordinating blue that I plan on using for a crocheted edge, as well as knitting a matching hat). BUT, it was enough to get me very, very excited about spinning again.

Am I ridiculous to hope that there will be spinning time this winter? That perhaps my fabulous stash of Spunky Eclectic fiber will get me through the dark days of February all alone in my apartment with a 2 or 3 month old baby?

A girl can dream.


(In which I try to be interesting, but eventually end up talking about pregnancy, again.)

This little alcove is just next to my office building – what you see is actually the back corner of a courtyard, nestled in between 2 tall buildings, with wrought iron cafe tables on cobblestones and a beautiful waterfall backdrop. The waterfall drowns out the city noise of honking cabs and construction, and the high solid walls on each of the other 2 sides give a sense of security, and intimacy. You could almost imagine you were in a European city, discovering a tiny cafe in a quaint little corner of the old district.

I’ve walked by it at least twice a day for more than a year, and yet I’ve only sat in it once. (The day my new camera arrived and I couldn’t wait until after work to take it on a test drive.) It’s really a shame.

I’m sharing this with you because I have very little knitting progress to report – the past few nights I’ve been working on shopping for all the remnants of things we still need after the shower, and getting the new bedroom set up (I had no linens on hand for a king-size bed before now). By the time I finish the absolute minimum of what I need to get done, it’s pushing 8 o’clock and Eric and I are scrambling to assemble dinner in the simplest manner possible. A few rows of knitting is all I can manage before I slump into the luxurious expanse that is our new bed.

Oh, wait, I haven’t told you about our new bed? It’s awesome. No, it’s more than awesome. It’s freakin awesomelicious. I never thought that we would need a king, or that it would make such a huge difference (no pun intended!) but it does. Apparently, my awkward, lumbering attempts to roll over take up an alarming amount of mattress width. Now, I can struggle to turn, or stretch in any direction without pushing a dog off the bed, or elbowing Eric in frustration.

We are all much happier.

As for the baby, he seems fine. Kicking and moving like mad, but no way to tell up from down, despite how hard I try. I spend (way too much) time trying to figure out hands from feet, head from rump, and quite frankly, if my guesses were right, then he would be impossibly convoluted in there (like a Mr. Potato doll put together by a drunk Picasso). So, I’m trying to sit back and accept whatever comes and not worry about making a decision until we know there’s one to be made.

One thing’s for sure – there will be no attempts to deliver this baby breech. Not only did 2 doctors speak up on this point, but a few others of you were quite adamant about this as well. Your words confirmed my own inclinations, which were then set in stone when my childbirth class instructor (a doula and a huge fan of the Dr. Sears books) said flat out that it would be impossible to find a provider in NYC who would deliver a baby breech.

A relief for me, because the Dr. Sears books (which I like) would have me press the point (depending on what sort of breech) and try to find a provider who would at least attempt to deliver breech. I get why, but it was not the route for me, regardless of the situation.

Anyway, enough rambling from me. Hopefully good knitting content next time.

Turn Baby, Turn

Sorry, this ultrasound is from 3 weeks ago. They couldn’t get a good face picture today, he wasn’t really cooperating.

We’re getting close people. I’m 34.5 weeks, and for those of you keeping score at home, we are a mere 2 weeks away from being considered Full Term. I had a couple of doctor’s appointments this morning (ultrasound at hospital, regular checkup at OB) and here are the findings…

Baby is BIG. He’s gained 2 lbs in 3 weeks, and weighs in at an estimated 5lbs, 15 oz. It sure as hell explains why my stomach has been so freakin tight and itchy this past week or so, and also why I can no longer roll over without some serious protestations from my lower abdominal ligaments. I’m also starting to get punchy from the lack of sleep, and my sad inability to nap under my desk at work.

Baby is BREECH. He turned wrong-side up 2 weeks ago (note that in above picture he is head-down) and has evidently decided he likes the view of my rib cage way better than that of my hip bones. The irony being that he spent most of this pregnancy with his head wedged so deep down that every doctor who’s seen it has commented (and has also been very very frustrated while trying to get head measurements). On 2 different ultrasound occasions I’ve been sent out to walk around in the hopes he’d wiggle loose a bit to make things easier. Once they adjusted the table like a see-saw and my feet were a foot above my head. It was very uncomfortable AND generally futile. Doctors would then say, well, that bodes well for you, he obviously likes being head down.

No. He obviously likes being contrary.

He’s got 11 days to turn head-down again before my doctors will present me with some hard decisions:

1) At 37 weeks try to manually turn the baby in a procedure that could ultimately result in an emergency c-section.

2) Schedule a c-section for 39 weeks and hope to hell he turns on his own before then.

3) Fight for the option to try to deliver him breech, naturally. This wasn’t even presented as an option today in my discussion with the doctor, but I do know I could press hard for the option if I felt strongly about it.

Here’s the fun part. I am openly soliciting for your thoughts, opinions, advice… for you to share your experiences, and I promise I won’t be offended. (As long as you can promise not to be offended if I respectfully disagree.) I want to hear what you all think of all this.

I’ve got a week and a half before I will know whether the decision needs to be made, but once we know, we won’t have much time to actually MAKE the decision (i.e. Option 1 would be scheduled for within a week of us finding out that he’s still breech.)

And, if nothing else, please think good turning thoughts for me.

Blankets, Binkies, and Boppies

DSC_0084 by you.

Thank god today is a bank holiday/partial staffing day, because I am a baggy-eyed pregnant zombie this morning.  We had the most wonderful weekend up in Massachusetts – my mother went all out and threw us a co-ed tailgating themed baby shower, complete with football toss and cornhole competitions, a life-sized fathead of Tom Brady, and a bunch of our family and friends.

The overriding theme of this pregnancy for me is how often I’ve felt like I’ve been hit by a bus.  When I found out I was pregnant, I walked around numb for days (weeks?), feeling like I had been hit by a bus, emotionally.  Was it for real?  Would there be a heartbeat?  We had been waiting so long, and it seemed so surreal… and because I kept steeling myself for something to go wrong, it took me weeks and weeks to accept it and get really excited about it.

Then, over the summer, with the anemia and debilitating exhaustion, I simply felt like I had been hit by a bus.  A double-decker bus.  Each day.  Repeatedly.  Stupid bus.

And this weekend seeing how happy and excited our families are, and seeing so many of our friends (some for the first time since we found out) was wonderful in and of itself.  And then when we got home last night, we sorted through all the gifts, and got to linger over each onesie and flip through each baby book and read the directions on baby monitors and marvel over how tiny infant diapers are… it was incredible, and I have been completely whalloped by the collective generosity of our People.  It may seem obvious, but damn, the bus hit is much easier to take when all your People are on it, and the bus is made out of receiving blankets, binkies and boppies.

(For the record, this baby now has about 20 Red Sox outfits, 10 Patriots outfits, 1 Celtics outfit, and 1 adorable pair of maroon BC overalls with a coordinating white polo shirt waiting for him.  Oh, and if you count bowling as a sport, then we can include the onesie that says “The Dude Abides”.)

My brother Tommy took a million pictures – I haven’t seen them yet, but I’ll put them up on Flickr when I do.  For my part, I spent most of the weekend enjoying being surrounded by family and friends, and trying to make sure I ate enough.  There was no time for pictures, I was too busy soaking it all in.