Has It Really Been a Week?

Baby Rocco is a week old! I swore I would never show anyone his cone head picture, but he has such a nice little peanut head now-I don't care. He slept from 2am-7am this morning. Sooooo nice.

He changes so much everyday!

So...we had a rough night

My baby and I
We do not resemble
Those La Leche League pictures
Of mother and child.

He is crying
And I want to cry too
It hurts, it doesn't work
We've been tricked.

But my baby is brave
Stubborn
{ H U N G R Y }
He will not give up
So neither will I.

Let's Go Home!

They let us take the baby home. We walked right past the nurses' station and down the long corridor to the elevators, the lights glaring off the waxy floor. No one asked us if we had a Parenting License or the proper qualifications. Everyone politely pretended not to notice that we didn't have the slightest idea what we were doing. They just smiled and nodded and wished us well, cooing at the over-bundled treasure getting loaded unsuspectingly into our shiny new carseat.

We pulled away from the hospital, breathless with equal parts joy and terror. Feeling like a couple of paupers walking off with the crown jewels.

Presenting...Rocco Casen DiChiara

The short version is:

I was induced on Tuesday morning. Nothing went as planned, and we ended up having pretty much every medical intervention I vowed we would not. The Baby was OP, and after four hours of pushing he finally made his entrance at 5:40 am Wednesday, April 9th, weighing 8lbs 7oz, at 21.06 inches long, sporting a kind of wrinkled splendor...and one serious cone head.

So here you are at last, covered with the evidence of your arduous journey, a beautiful , perfect, holy mess. You have something of me in your eyes, I think, and a lot of your daddy everywhere else, but you are thoroughly, perfectly, exquisitely yourself. You are ours. But what is even more obvious is that we are entirely yours.

We'll give you a name and they'll let us keep you. You'll live with us, but we'll know you're not from around here. You have the fingerprints of Divinity all over you.

Welcome to our world, Rocco.

We're so glad you came.

Monday Morning...still no baby.

Hello to all.

The weekend has come and gone, and we are still waiting with breath that is baited. This baby better be reaaallllly cute when he shows up, so I can instantly forget how agonizing it was getting him here (and I'm not even in labor yet!).

We are supposed to check into the hospital tonight, and if I'm not in labor by Tuesday at 8:00 am, they'll induce me. I'm still really hoping it doesn't come to that, so keep putting good things out into the Universe for us.

I promise one of these days, one of these posts will have a picture of our baby in it. Seriously.

41 Weeks...Prayers Needed!

My sonogram went well yesterday, and I was in great spirits and feeling like we would be holding him very soon. The radiologist said he has big feet, a little head (yes!), lots of hair, and looks like his daddy!

Unfortunately, my visit with the midwife didn't go so well today, and if I don't go into labor on my own by Monday, they'll induce. I'm trying hard to stay positive, but I thought I had a little more time. Please send us thoughts and prayers for a good outcome over the next few days. We just want to get him here safe and sound.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Well, I have every pre-labor symptom except the most important one: CONTRACTIONS!

I have a sonogram scheduled for tomorrow at 10:30, and it looks like I'll be keeping that appointment as of now. No signs baby is coming tonight. Even though it's nothing compared to the real thing, I'm still excited to see his face and hear that he is healthy and strong. I'll let everyone know how it goes.

40 Weeks 4 Days

Go ahead, I whisper to my child-in-waiting, take all the room you need. Increase my waist. Expand my heart. Enlarge my soul.

(Photo by Alex Di Chiara)

Is the Joke on Me?

I feel bad I haven't updated my blog the last few days. I've been in avoidance mode, because I know what everyone really wants to see are pictures of the new baby, not me getting fatter and fatter. Unfortunately, that's all I got right now. So, here's an update on where things stand with our pending arrival.

I went to see the midwife yesterday and had a Non-Stress Test, since I'm past due, to make sure all is well with baby. We both passed with flying colors, and since we are healthy and I prefer not to be induced (which doesn't mix well with natural childbirth), there's not much to do but wait.

As to when, exactly, the baby might arrive, I was told and I quote, "It could be any minute, any hour, or it could be next week." I am fine with him not showing up today, because my baby is not a joke and I don't want his birthday to have the word "fool" in it.

That said, everyone cross their fingers for tomorrow. My favorite numbers are 2, 8, and 4, so I'm feeling like 04.02.08 would be a particularly fortuitous birthday.

Especially for my Sisters

My feet and hands are grotesquely swollen. It's my own fault, because I refuse to stay home, off my feet, like I'm supposed to. Last night was bad. Just for posterity's sake, I thought I'd take some pictures of my sexy cankles. To those who take satisfaction in this:

You know who you are.

40 Weeks

It's hard to believe my due date has arrived and my baby has not.

"The Greatest Lie of Pregnancy is that it takes nine months to grow a baby. The TRUTH is that it takes forty weeks-ten long months lived in a parallel universe where each day is as a thousand years.

God seems to have a particular affinity for the number forty. Was it not forty days and forty nights before God stopped the rain and Noah saw sunshine? Was it not forty long years before the Israelites made it out of the desert? And didn't Jesus spend forty hungry days in the desert Himself? Perhaps it's just a coincidence, but one thing is evident: God is not generally in any particular hurry when He's doing His finest work.

Maybe making us wait is His way of getting our attention, of helping us realize He's up to something serious. Maybe He just knows we need some time to grow into the blessing He has in store.

Forty weeks is a long time to wait for anything, particularly when one's ankles appear to be retaining all the waters of Noah's flood. But I've got a hunch, when the miracle finally shows up, it will be the first rainbow and the Promised Land all rolled up into one squirmy little bundle." -Carolyn Arends

I can hardly wait.
(Although in my case the squirmy bundle will probably not be so little.)

Mom

The baby was so active last night, dancing his crazy dance in my ballroom belly. He responds to my voice, my touch. I felt a little sad at the thought that soon he will be living outside of me. We are so close; the connection is so strong. He is so much a part of me.

How does a mother ever let her baby go? I wondered.

My mom called to check on me this morning. I love when she does that. She asked me if I was sleeping, and if there was anything going on yet.

I told her no, I'm at WalMart, walking around trying to get some contractions started and so far, nothing to report. She told me to give up, go home, rest with my feet up. She didn't say she would call to check on me later. She didn't have to.

We hung up, and I realized the answer to my question:

How do mothers ever let their babies go?

Maybe they never do.

Mia

Anyone who knows Eric and me, knows that I am significantly more "our dog is a member of our family" minded than he. So, of course, it came as no surprise when he expressed concerns about Mia wanting to closely inspect and HEAVEN FORBID possibly even lick the baby.

That's why I cracked up when some friends of ours who have a two-week-old told me they were grilling their pediatrician about their Boston Terrier trying the same thing with their new baby.

He basically said, "It's obviously not the BEST thing for your dog to lick him...but you know when you go to Target or Walmart and touch the carts, then you touch your baby? That's WAAAAY worse."

I'm strangely comforted by that. and grossed out.

39 Weeks 3 Days. I need some affirmations.

The three words that best describe the birth experience I want are:

Safe. Empowering. Gentle.

• My mind and body can handle a labor of any kind
• I trust my instincts to know what I need in labor
• Babies are born when they are ready, not when doctors, midwives, or anyone else decides
• My body contains all the knowledge necessary to give birth to my baby
• My baby knows how and when to be born

Embracing what we DO want, rather than just avoiding what we DON'T, has really resonated with me. It's interesting that so many of the words we use for birth focus on what is absent:

un-medicated
un-hindered
un-inhibited

Pablo Picasso. Spanish Artist and Painter. 1881-1973

"Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we all must work, to make the world worthy of its children."

Birth Plan Update

I started this blog, then didn't keep up with it during my first and second trimesters. Lately there seems to be so much I'd like to post; I'm giving it another shot. To catch everyone up:

1. We're having a boy!
2. He doesn't officially have a name yet.
3. Our goal is to have a natural birth, free from pain medication and interventions.
   
4. We have chosen to labor and deliver with a midwife and doula.
   
5. Mom and baby have been very healthy throughout the pregnancy.