I started writing new posts at least twice, but my motivation quickly fizzled on both, so they've been abandoned. There's really not a lot to say either, but here are my answers for the questions that I've heard from several people.
Yes, he's a good sleeper (for now), and yes, I've been sleeping well (for the most part). "Sleeping well" and "newborn" don't really belong in the same sentence, but Kevin's been a huge help on the weekends, so that's when I'm able to get a few extra hours of sleep. During the week I head back to bed after feeding him; and I keep going back to bed until I'm feeling somewhat rested. At the moment he's going through a growth spurt, so he's eating like mad but waking up every 1.5 to 2 hours to eat. Meaning? I haven't been sleeping as well as I'd like. Luckily it's the long weekend, so Kevin is able to take over for me tomorrow morning so I can score a few more hours.
I've been really fortunate to have the energy to go back to dance so quickly. This past Tuesday I re-joined my jazz class, and I also plan to sign up for hip hop again (same day). That means that I'll be out of the house for around 3 hours, which is great for me (personally/emotionally/socially), but it also means that Kevin and Krew will be able to bond without me there (super important).
I'm learning the difference between when Krew is fussy and when he's hungry; I'm starting to get it right more regularly, but his screeching usually lets me know when I've got it wrong.
He's starting to smile. I know that at this point it's more gas-related than anything else, but I'll take what I can get.
His eyes, at this stage, are most definitely blue. A very deep blue that reminds me of Kevin's eyes. As much as I would have liked (preferred) green, I'm ok with him having his daddy's eyes. His hair, however, is more reminiscent of my colour. It's a very deep brown that has a reddish tinge when seen in direct sunlight; in fact, if I could have ever dyed my hair red, that's the shade I would have chosen.
Personality-wise at this point, he's pretty chill. He only gets fussy if he wants to eat or be changed. He likes to be held at night and will have a fit if he's put down before he's ready. He doesn't demand to be held into the wee hours of the morning, so I don't mind this is nightly ritual. Usually he just gets plunked down onto someone's chest while they're on the computer, so it isn't a hardship to cuddle.
The cats are still wary of him but have started getting closer. Link will howl right along with Krew when Krew is displeased (so. much. fun. /eyeroll) and Isis has started nudging Krew's hand while I'm feeding him. Both Isis and Link have been caught sleeping in Krew's office cradle, although neither will go into his crib or his living room cradle (this one moves though, so that might be why).
My due date is tomorrow. I'm so glad that I've had this time with my boy and didn't have to go all the way to Easter in order to meet him. Not to mention how freakin' huge I would've been if I had gone to term.
3 weeks down. So far, so good.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Some Pictures
These pictures were taken at the hospital, and Kevin has more recent ones on his phone, so I'll have to snag them some time. My camera has a tendency to destroy USB ports when it's uploading pictures (don't ask me why) so hopefully I can figure it out so I can upload more in the future.
I never did master the swaddle.
Kevin showing me how it's done (...and Krew totally looks like an alien...).
A little one-on-one with daddy.
:)
Friday, April 8, 2011
Love at First Sight?
I did not fall instantly in love with my son the second I set eyes on him.
Krew was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger to me, and I was uncomfortable handling him despite having carried him for his whole life. The night he was born I was shaky from labour and could not hold him for more than a few minutes. Kevin, however, demonstrated his paternal nature from the start: He learned how to diaper, feed, and handle Krew while I was being sewn up. He also stepped up that first night by getting up to feed Krew at a time when I felt incapable of even picking him up without help.
Watching Kevin with our son made my heart ache; especially considering how ambivalent I was feeling at the time. When the next feeding rolled around, I gave it a try. The sleep had restored some of my energy, and my IV was disconnected so I didn't have to worry about tangled tubes. Picking him up for the first time scared me. He was trusting me to care for him and take care of his needs, regardless of whether or not I was physically or emotionally able. His vulnerability and faith terrified me, but it was also encouraging.
He taught me to love him with each interaction, and he continues to do so still. The way he watches me while I feed him makes me feel like he knows who I am and that it's ok if it took me entirely too long to get his bottle ready. Or that he wanted his diaper changed or that he just wanted to cuddle for a while. I know he recognizes my voice already, and I feel incredibly priviledged to know how to soothe him when he is outraged. He makes me feel like everything is going to be all right when he burrows his head into my neck or falls asleep on my chest.
I did not fall instantly in love with my son the second I set eyes on him, but the love that I feel for him now is more fierce than I had ever expected for only having known him for a few days. I guess I just had to get to know him first.
Krew was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger to me, and I was uncomfortable handling him despite having carried him for his whole life. The night he was born I was shaky from labour and could not hold him for more than a few minutes. Kevin, however, demonstrated his paternal nature from the start: He learned how to diaper, feed, and handle Krew while I was being sewn up. He also stepped up that first night by getting up to feed Krew at a time when I felt incapable of even picking him up without help.
Watching Kevin with our son made my heart ache; especially considering how ambivalent I was feeling at the time. When the next feeding rolled around, I gave it a try. The sleep had restored some of my energy, and my IV was disconnected so I didn't have to worry about tangled tubes. Picking him up for the first time scared me. He was trusting me to care for him and take care of his needs, regardless of whether or not I was physically or emotionally able. His vulnerability and faith terrified me, but it was also encouraging.
He taught me to love him with each interaction, and he continues to do so still. The way he watches me while I feed him makes me feel like he knows who I am and that it's ok if it took me entirely too long to get his bottle ready. Or that he wanted his diaper changed or that he just wanted to cuddle for a while. I know he recognizes my voice already, and I feel incredibly priviledged to know how to soothe him when he is outraged. He makes me feel like everything is going to be all right when he burrows his head into my neck or falls asleep on my chest.
I did not fall instantly in love with my son the second I set eyes on him, but the love that I feel for him now is more fierce than I had ever expected for only having known him for a few days. I guess I just had to get to know him first.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Krew Thomas Anthony Broderick
WARNING: This is going to be a long post, and maybe a little TMI.
The Build-Up:
I had it all planned out: The perfect April Fools Day prank. I was going to post a picture of myself in the hospital (from when Kevin injured his ankle and we spent hours in the hospital waiting for an x-ray) and update my Facebook status to "Cristina is hanging out in the hospital." Instead, I was on the receiving end of that joke.
Around midnight on March 31st (the beginning of that day, not the end), I noticed some sort of fluid on my underwear. Having had my membranes swept a couple days earlier, I got a little excited, but decided to just keep an eye on it (and put on a pad, just in case). Around 3 a.m. I got up to go to the bathroom and when I laid back down again, felt a trickle. I mentioned it to Kevin, so we decided that we would go to the maternity ward in the morning. After we got up, we grabbed the bags (which were finally packed), fiddled around with the carseat, and off we went!
By the time we made it to the hospital, I started to have second thoughts about whether or not my water had broken, but decided that it couldn't hurt to get it checked out. While walking to the maternity ward, I felt more water. And more again. By the time we got there, I felt like I was gushing. I was immediately sent to the Assessment Room where I was hooked up to a fetal monitor (which is also used to monitor contractions) and it was noted that my contractions were 5 minutes apart! However, since the contractions were merely uncomfortable, I was sent home and told to come back later that night, or earlier if the contractions strengthened.
I ended up coming back later that evening and I was hooked up to an IV pole with a bag of oxytocin to help induce labour. With my membranes ruptured, there was now a chance of infection so it was necessary to get this show on the road. At 2 a.m. on April 1st, I had maxed out my dosage of oxytocin and it was decided that they would try again in the morning. Around 7 a.m., I was hooked back up again, with the same luck. Out of sympathy, the nurses sent me home for a few hours in the evening of April 1st to hang out before my next round of antibiotics. When I came back, I was reattached to my new best friend and around 7:30 a.m. on April 2nd, I started my third round of oxytocin.
[Side note: After the second dose of oxytocin Dr. Cosio consulted with the OB specialist to determine the next step, and he recommended another try of oxytocin. By this point I was incredibly bored and was convinced that another round was just a waste of everyone's time. Plus I wanted to meet my baby.]
A friend of mine stopped by to say hi while I was wasting time and had suggested (or demanded, really) that we go for a walk around the ward. Kevin had stepped out for a while, but as we were walking we ran into him and stopped to chat. At that point I had felt a hard kick or jolt in my abdomen, but I didn't think anything of it until my contractions started picking up after the second round of walking. We went back to the room and I informed my nurse that I was finally starting to feel something. When it got to the point that I could no longer speak during the contractions, my friend left and the nurse started to get excited.
Labour & Delivery:
Labour was...interesting. I hadn't given it much thought the entire time I was in the hospital because I was convinced that it wasn't going to happen. However, once it started, I just wanted to find a way to deal with the pain. And that way involved doing a plie while standing with my elbows on the bed. I would breathe in and bend my knees, then exhale to a stand. I found the repetition soothing, but it gradually became unbearable and I felt like crying. At which point I remembered the gas!
The gas is awesome, by the way: It makes you feel drunk. Once I started the gas, I immediately felt a little light-headed and needed to lie down in order to not fall over. (I don't remember how far dilated I was when I started the gas, but the entire time I was being induced, I was only ever 2 cms dilated and my cervix had moved posterior.)
The contractions started becoming even more unbearable, and my body would lean to the right (on to my side) during the worst part. The nurse told me that if I felt like pushing, to just blow out so it would vibrate my lips; I told the nurse that I thought that they just got a kick out of watching the women doing it. I tried really hard not to push, and told my body to "stop pushing" whenever I started (the nurse who happened to have her hand on my stomach at the time apologized, so I had to let her know I was talking to myself). By this point I asked the nurse what the next step of pain relief was and how I could get it. She told me it was morphine, but that I was too late by that point.
Pushing hurt, but not pushing was even worse. Apparently I was pushing for 2 hours, but it doesn't seem like it took that long (my arms disagree). I found that when it came to pushing, my body completely took over. The doctor wanted 3 long consecutive pushes but I found that I had to give 3 long ones and 1 or 2 short ones in order to stop pushing. If I didn't max it out, my body would start shaking and I couldn't relax between contractions.
I tried various pushing positions, but I honestly think the most effective one was sitting on the toilet. I never thought I would have ended up straddling that thing while in labour, but there I was. And the cool pipes felt amazing on my forehead. Once the "ring of fire" (crowning?) stage was hit, I was back on the bed where I got to hear things like, "I can see the head," "look at all that hair," and "his hand is by his neck." I guess he got impatient too and decided to claw his own way out. Unfortunately, because his arm had crossed in front of his chest, it caused his shoulders to come out at the same time (instead of one at a time) and I tore. Twice. I didn't feel it though, which is nice.
Birth & Clean-Up:
He was born at 7:20 p.m. on April 2, 2011.
The first thing I asked when he came out was "Is he still a boy?" I think they laughed at me. Actually, I think they laughed at me the entire time since my coping technique was to crack jokes instead of cry or scream. When they held my little boy up for me to see, the only thing I could think of was, "So that's what you look like." They cleaned him up and rested him on my chest for a moment so I could see him. He was fussing, so Kevin started talking to him, and he immediately stopped crying. They took him, and Kevin, to the scale so they could weigh and measure him. He weighed 8 lbs 5 oz and was 21 inches long.
I was exhausted and needed stitches. The thought of having another needle nearly drove me to tears, but luckily I couldn't feel it. The pressure from being sutured hurt and I felt shaky. After I was put back together, Kevin and I were able to enjoy our little boy for the first time as a family. I did hold him, though my arms were so tired that I couldn't hold him for long. We called our parents to inform them of our son's arrival. I took a long, hot, and much needed shower and we were moved to the postpartum rooms.
Krew:
We named our son Krew Thomas Anthony Broderick.
Krew is entirely made up though totally ripped from the band Motley Crue. We were originally going to spell it Krue or Kru, but I decided that people unfamiliar with the name would have difficulty pronouncing it or they may make quick judgments based on his name alone, so we changed it to Krew. Oh, and we spelled it with a "K" because Kevin wanted a name that started with a K.
Thomas is my dad's name, while Anthony is Kevin's dad.
Life as a Family:
Life in the hospital was pretty easy, though entirely boring. All we had to do was hang out with the baby and relax. We didn't have to cook, clean, or do anything except entertain visitors and keep ourselves occupied. I was discharged on Monday morning and was incredibly happy to go home.
Life at home is a lot harder than life in the hospital. First of all, our home wasn't quite ready for the baby yet and the nursery was a mess. And second of all, I didn't expect to be so hyperaware of the baby. At the hospital he was either more settled at night or the room was so big that it dampened his noises. Sleeping in the same room as him is exhausting. He slept in his crib that night and I was standing by it more often than not. We have since moved one of our cradles to the side of my bed so I can soothe him without needing to leave my bed.
Am I sleep deprived? Oh yeah. However, I also have way more energy when I am able to get a couple hours of sleep in a row. I am learning that his noises aren't always a cry of pain/hunger/need, but are sometimes just a cry in the night. I am learning to be a faster diaper changer or else I have to feel the full wrath of Krew. I've also learned that if I cover his torso then I can get away with taking longer.
My Blog Future:
So, right now I have the best of intentions to keep this blog going. I want to use it as a place to log Krew's milestones and gush about his first smile. I want to update it with pictures. From the beginning I've used this blog as a diary of sorts, a place where I can look back and remember my experiences, good or bad. I also know that I'm going to be extremely busy in the future (and have been the past couple days) so that it may be erratic or die off completely.
I would still like to update once a week, but it may be more. Or less. I invite you to remind me to update, since there are times when I decide that too much time has gone by to update everything and give up. This blog post should have been broken into 3 posts, to be honest.
I should also shut up now because this post has gone on long enough and I haven't added pictures yet.
The Build-Up:
I had it all planned out: The perfect April Fools Day prank. I was going to post a picture of myself in the hospital (from when Kevin injured his ankle and we spent hours in the hospital waiting for an x-ray) and update my Facebook status to "Cristina is hanging out in the hospital." Instead, I was on the receiving end of that joke.
Around midnight on March 31st (the beginning of that day, not the end), I noticed some sort of fluid on my underwear. Having had my membranes swept a couple days earlier, I got a little excited, but decided to just keep an eye on it (and put on a pad, just in case). Around 3 a.m. I got up to go to the bathroom and when I laid back down again, felt a trickle. I mentioned it to Kevin, so we decided that we would go to the maternity ward in the morning. After we got up, we grabbed the bags (which were finally packed), fiddled around with the carseat, and off we went!
By the time we made it to the hospital, I started to have second thoughts about whether or not my water had broken, but decided that it couldn't hurt to get it checked out. While walking to the maternity ward, I felt more water. And more again. By the time we got there, I felt like I was gushing. I was immediately sent to the Assessment Room where I was hooked up to a fetal monitor (which is also used to monitor contractions) and it was noted that my contractions were 5 minutes apart! However, since the contractions were merely uncomfortable, I was sent home and told to come back later that night, or earlier if the contractions strengthened.
I ended up coming back later that evening and I was hooked up to an IV pole with a bag of oxytocin to help induce labour. With my membranes ruptured, there was now a chance of infection so it was necessary to get this show on the road. At 2 a.m. on April 1st, I had maxed out my dosage of oxytocin and it was decided that they would try again in the morning. Around 7 a.m., I was hooked back up again, with the same luck. Out of sympathy, the nurses sent me home for a few hours in the evening of April 1st to hang out before my next round of antibiotics. When I came back, I was reattached to my new best friend and around 7:30 a.m. on April 2nd, I started my third round of oxytocin.
[Side note: After the second dose of oxytocin Dr. Cosio consulted with the OB specialist to determine the next step, and he recommended another try of oxytocin. By this point I was incredibly bored and was convinced that another round was just a waste of everyone's time. Plus I wanted to meet my baby.]
A friend of mine stopped by to say hi while I was wasting time and had suggested (or demanded, really) that we go for a walk around the ward. Kevin had stepped out for a while, but as we were walking we ran into him and stopped to chat. At that point I had felt a hard kick or jolt in my abdomen, but I didn't think anything of it until my contractions started picking up after the second round of walking. We went back to the room and I informed my nurse that I was finally starting to feel something. When it got to the point that I could no longer speak during the contractions, my friend left and the nurse started to get excited.
Labour & Delivery:
Labour was...interesting. I hadn't given it much thought the entire time I was in the hospital because I was convinced that it wasn't going to happen. However, once it started, I just wanted to find a way to deal with the pain. And that way involved doing a plie while standing with my elbows on the bed. I would breathe in and bend my knees, then exhale to a stand. I found the repetition soothing, but it gradually became unbearable and I felt like crying. At which point I remembered the gas!
The gas is awesome, by the way: It makes you feel drunk. Once I started the gas, I immediately felt a little light-headed and needed to lie down in order to not fall over. (I don't remember how far dilated I was when I started the gas, but the entire time I was being induced, I was only ever 2 cms dilated and my cervix had moved posterior.)
The contractions started becoming even more unbearable, and my body would lean to the right (on to my side) during the worst part. The nurse told me that if I felt like pushing, to just blow out so it would vibrate my lips; I told the nurse that I thought that they just got a kick out of watching the women doing it. I tried really hard not to push, and told my body to "stop pushing" whenever I started (the nurse who happened to have her hand on my stomach at the time apologized, so I had to let her know I was talking to myself). By this point I asked the nurse what the next step of pain relief was and how I could get it. She told me it was morphine, but that I was too late by that point.
Pushing hurt, but not pushing was even worse. Apparently I was pushing for 2 hours, but it doesn't seem like it took that long (my arms disagree). I found that when it came to pushing, my body completely took over. The doctor wanted 3 long consecutive pushes but I found that I had to give 3 long ones and 1 or 2 short ones in order to stop pushing. If I didn't max it out, my body would start shaking and I couldn't relax between contractions.
I tried various pushing positions, but I honestly think the most effective one was sitting on the toilet. I never thought I would have ended up straddling that thing while in labour, but there I was. And the cool pipes felt amazing on my forehead. Once the "ring of fire" (crowning?) stage was hit, I was back on the bed where I got to hear things like, "I can see the head," "look at all that hair," and "his hand is by his neck." I guess he got impatient too and decided to claw his own way out. Unfortunately, because his arm had crossed in front of his chest, it caused his shoulders to come out at the same time (instead of one at a time) and I tore. Twice. I didn't feel it though, which is nice.
Birth & Clean-Up:
He was born at 7:20 p.m. on April 2, 2011.
The first thing I asked when he came out was "Is he still a boy?" I think they laughed at me. Actually, I think they laughed at me the entire time since my coping technique was to crack jokes instead of cry or scream. When they held my little boy up for me to see, the only thing I could think of was, "So that's what you look like." They cleaned him up and rested him on my chest for a moment so I could see him. He was fussing, so Kevin started talking to him, and he immediately stopped crying. They took him, and Kevin, to the scale so they could weigh and measure him. He weighed 8 lbs 5 oz and was 21 inches long.
I was exhausted and needed stitches. The thought of having another needle nearly drove me to tears, but luckily I couldn't feel it. The pressure from being sutured hurt and I felt shaky. After I was put back together, Kevin and I were able to enjoy our little boy for the first time as a family. I did hold him, though my arms were so tired that I couldn't hold him for long. We called our parents to inform them of our son's arrival. I took a long, hot, and much needed shower and we were moved to the postpartum rooms.
Krew:
We named our son Krew Thomas Anthony Broderick.
Krew is entirely made up though totally ripped from the band Motley Crue. We were originally going to spell it Krue or Kru, but I decided that people unfamiliar with the name would have difficulty pronouncing it or they may make quick judgments based on his name alone, so we changed it to Krew. Oh, and we spelled it with a "K" because Kevin wanted a name that started with a K.
Thomas is my dad's name, while Anthony is Kevin's dad.
Life as a Family:
Life in the hospital was pretty easy, though entirely boring. All we had to do was hang out with the baby and relax. We didn't have to cook, clean, or do anything except entertain visitors and keep ourselves occupied. I was discharged on Monday morning and was incredibly happy to go home.
Life at home is a lot harder than life in the hospital. First of all, our home wasn't quite ready for the baby yet and the nursery was a mess. And second of all, I didn't expect to be so hyperaware of the baby. At the hospital he was either more settled at night or the room was so big that it dampened his noises. Sleeping in the same room as him is exhausting. He slept in his crib that night and I was standing by it more often than not. We have since moved one of our cradles to the side of my bed so I can soothe him without needing to leave my bed.
Am I sleep deprived? Oh yeah. However, I also have way more energy when I am able to get a couple hours of sleep in a row. I am learning that his noises aren't always a cry of pain/hunger/need, but are sometimes just a cry in the night. I am learning to be a faster diaper changer or else I have to feel the full wrath of Krew. I've also learned that if I cover his torso then I can get away with taking longer.
My Blog Future:
So, right now I have the best of intentions to keep this blog going. I want to use it as a place to log Krew's milestones and gush about his first smile. I want to update it with pictures. From the beginning I've used this blog as a diary of sorts, a place where I can look back and remember my experiences, good or bad. I also know that I'm going to be extremely busy in the future (and have been the past couple days) so that it may be erratic or die off completely.
I would still like to update once a week, but it may be more. Or less. I invite you to remind me to update, since there are times when I decide that too much time has gone by to update everything and give up. This blog post should have been broken into 3 posts, to be honest.
I should also shut up now because this post has gone on long enough and I haven't added pictures yet.
Krew just after he was born
Blogger is being an asshole and won't let me upload any more pictures. So, I'll just upload some in a new post in the future. :)
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