Family Moments

A: One Month Old

Zealand at One Month

Some images from the first two weeks..

She is starting to fill out her newborn jammies a bit!

Dada and Avery having their first please stay calm newborn waltz.
She is very curious of the world around her.

Zealand after his bath examining "the baby" as he call her.

Avery's first bath. She seemed to enjoy the warm water. Very calm.

Avery's birth story

Two weeks before Avery was born I met a nice man in line behind me waiting for coffee. He was an older man, grey hair, and very animated, possibly gay as he seemed somewhat effeminate. He was very curious about Avery and eager to share that he has had the privilege to babysit his neighbor's three month old child every week. We talked about the importance of reading to children, even when they are still in the womb. He shared that he still remembers the finest of details from his earliest children's books.

Somehow the conversation switched over to the psychic realm without it seeming strange, or creepy, coming as it were from a complete stranger. And, I was eager to hear, as are most pregnant women, any detail that might reveal something, anything, about the mysterious being shifting and kicking my insides.

He said that her name starts with a vowel. He was right! I was now a captive audience. And, what else? He said that she will have a strong proclivity for language and will learn to read early and will have writerly leanings. He said that she is due to arrive very soon and that everything is going to be fine.

I left with my coffee feeling that he was somehow right and that our interaction meant something. More than anything I felt that special sense that comes with pregnancy of carrying a real live person already significantly formed with their own tendencies and character wired into their developing brain and limbs. How many of us with active kickers in the womb think ahead to sitting in the bleachers cheering at the soccer match?

I couldn't wait to meet her. Our own wee Avery who inspires complete strangers to wax poetic about reading and good books.

Two weeks later, on a Sunday morning in Walnut Creek I awoke to what is known as a "bloody show" - a sign that labor is imminent, although anywhere from 1 day to 2 weeks (not so helpful) and I'll let the name speak for itself. That weekend Zealand and I went to stay with my parents in Walnut Creek so that Duane could study for a final exam and get some much needed things done around the house. He spent more time than he would have liked painting the cupboards, a project that was started perhaps a little too close to the due date.

I made myself breakfast and felt a little ill at ease, watchful that more big bodily changes were on the way. I really wanted to deliver Avery in San Francisco and suddenly I felt a little too far from home.

A few hours later I felt a gush of fluid and was convinced that my water broke. Kaiser advised that I come in to make sure and suggested that someone drive me to the hospital in case active labor commenced. Zealand was outside kicking around a soccer ball on the front lawn and asked several times as I stood in the doorway preparing my bag if mama could play too. He looked puzzled but was okay when he saw me pull out of the driveway with Papa. That would be the last time I saw him before his sister was born and the ground beneath us changed forever.

We drove to San Francisco and Duane and my dad switched places in the driver's seat. It was 3:30 pm when we arrived at Kaiser. The doctor tested the fluid and was pretty convinced that my water had not broken. She said that she felt that I was on the cusp of labor and things were about to happen. She told us to come back when the contractions were at least every five minutes.

At this point I was feeling slightly crampy and really heavy. We took a nap at home and by 6 pm I was beginning to feel mild contractions. Duane picked up some burgers from down the street and I partially finished one. We headed to bed and I spent the evening in and out of sleep letting the contractions roll through me one by one. It felt like a dream, or being underwater - neither here or there as pain becomes a fact of life. Many, many times through the night I got up to use the bathroom as her tiny head by now was practically inside of my bladder.

At 6:00 am I woke Duane up and let him know that I was ready to go to the hospital. The contractions were frequent and painful. We drove through the darkened streets of San Francisco with early morning commuters to the hospital. I wondered if I shouldn't be howling in pain like you see in the movies. Maybe I had jumped the gun.

In the waiting room two really chirpy nurses greeted us as we filled out paperwork. The florescent lights, along with the unnaturally energetic nurses, added to a sense that what was happening wasn't real. I again wondered if I shouldn't be at least doubled over in pain. Instead I sat down and breathed through each contraction, about 7 minutes apart. I was glad though that we made it to the hospital and through the rigmarole of checking in while I was still somewhat present and not deeply in the throes of labor. Because I had a c-section previously the hospital encourages early admittance for subsequent labors.

Once in bed with the fetal monitors secure the doctor confirmed that I was almost 4 cm dilated. This was just where I was when a c-section was decided for Zealand. Progress! After a few hours of laboring largely sitting on the edge of the hospital bed I was ready for an epidural. As with the decision to leave for the hospital before the pain became unbearable, I wanted the pain medication before the contractions felt unbelievably difficult.

Shortly thereafter the epidural began to work its magic and I lay in bed wondering where my contractions were going. Nature sounds spilled out like waterfall bubbles from my Iphone and periodically I applied lavender oil to my temples. Duane sat close by and occasionally drifted off to sleep, as did I. A few hours later I was receiving a tiny dose of pictocin since my contractions had started to drift away from a regular, hence productive pattern. Part of me thought here we go again - the stalled labor all over again.

But no. After a few hours more I was 9 cm dilated and the plan was to begin pushing shortly. The nurse went over what pushing entailed and how to take a breath and then push three times before allowing in a new breath. After being bedridden for nine hours with the drip drip drip of the epidural I didn't feel mentally or physically ready to push a baby out of my body. I felt like taking a long nap, or a long walk without tubes in the fresh air.

At 7 pm the nurse came in and declared that it was time. Duane asked if we were going to have a baby by the time the day is over. She said, oh yes, there will be a baby. She looked more bubbly than I had seen her all day. I suppose this was the moment in her job that was heart to everything she does - the moment we have all been waiting for.

She placed my numb feet in stir ups and watched the screen to spot the onset of a contraction. She would then say, push! This went on for an hour and a half. The minute hands on the clock seemed to move in ten minute beats, so quickly did the time move. I was surprised that I felt the contractions and annoyed that my heartburn was choosing to flare up at this moment. Really, heartburn, now?

The lead doctor poked her head in and soon it became clear that things were not going as they would have liked. The doctor explained that she wanted to make clear what they were thinking C section unless I made significant progress in 30 minutes. She said my pushes were strong, but for whatever reason she is not descending. At this point, she explained, I would like to see her head at least. Avery, it turned out, was starting to respond poorly to all of the pushing and the doctor was now worried.

This was my low point during the labor experience. Hot tears filled my eyes and the friendly chatter of the nurses and doctor who were all trying so hard to cheer me on was met with great irritation. All of this work for nothing!? I felt as though my body was once again failing and that I was not strong enough to wiggle us out of this cluster of symptoms and problems. I wondered why I didn't feel a deep primal urge to push, to push beyond the expectations of these medical professions and create my own birth story.

Instead I felt exhausted and defeated. And, somewhat like a failure. I half pushed the last 30 minutes and then lay back to prepare for surgery. At this point, too, I was in a fair amount of pain. The anesthesiologist was surprised to learn that the epidural had become largely ineffectual. A second epidural was ordered before the surgery could take place.

Soon enough I was on my back with a blue sheet covering the work at hand. It seemed to take a lot longer than it did for Zealand. At some point I heard what sounded like an old shoe being lifted from a thick, muddy pond. I waited for a cry but did not hear one right away. Zealand's cry came the minute he was lifted into the world. Avery paused and then I heard mucus being suctioned, then a cry, a throttled cry.

I was a little worried. Was she okay, I asked the anesthesiologist who was closest. Seconds later the cry became sharp. Duane assured me that everything was fine. My first glimpse of Avery right was right before she was swaddled. Her mouth was the first thing I noticed. She was opening and closing her mouth which seemed to dominate her entire face. Her eyes were soft and already looked feminine. Her tiny arms were waving around and she seemed like an electric force of nature, already.

Duane brought her to me and I strained through the post surgery haze to really see her. I craned my neck to the side and could already smell that warm, sweet newborn scent coming from her beanie wrapped head.

The doctor's were still working on stitching me back together and I wondered now if everything was okay with me. I suddenly felt unable to keep my eyes open. I struggled to keep them open so that I wouldn't miss any of this moment.

Before I knew it Duane and Avery were leaving for our post-op room and I was left on the table so they could complete the surgery. Afterwards they explained that I had a good deal of scar tissue from the previous C-section and it took them awhile to cut through to the uterus. At one point they were worried that they had damaged my bladder and had to perform a test on my bladder to make sure it was okay. They said that I lost quite a bit of blood but not enough for a transfusion. Okay. It seemed I was okay enough.

Back in the room with Duane and Avery I suddenly awakened to the little girl before me. A warm energy spilled through me clearing away the medicated haze and exhaustion. I held her close and right away she latched on with a healthy vigor. I felt alive for the first time in several hours. She was beautiful. She was ours. She was finally here.

That night it felt like the two of us were in a giant love incubator. Her head stayed close to my chin all night. Her legs draped over one side of my stomach. The room stayed alive with bathroom lights and nurses coming in on rotation every few hours or so to check on us. Sleep was the last thing on my mind.

Slowly the bitterness of another C-section dissipated as I came alive and began to mother and nurture Avery. I felt my motherly intuition working itself though my body and a sense of serenity came over me. I also chose then to trust the medical professionals whose care I was under. Together all of us delivered a healthy, baby girl. Perhaps their intuition is something worth listening too. We just might have avoided a different fate entirely. I became very appreciative of the doctors and nurses who guided this process.

And, now it was my turn and Avery's turn to begin the slow dance of feeding, bonding, and learning of each other's rhythms. Welcome to the world Avery Isabel!

Avery Photos

We made it through the first week with our new little cutie. She has been quite a good sleeper and eater so far, gaining weight nicely.









Link to Zealand at one week:
http://zealandskye.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-week-old.html