February 12, 2009

I told myself I'd have this written by 2/12/10, but that obviously didn't happen. Oh well. It's been a rather busy year and a pretty busy past handful of weeks, so I'm just going to give myself a pass on the guilt and enjoy a nice, though admittedly foggy, walk down memory lane.

We knew 2/12 would be the big day, barring an early labor, so the lead-up to this long-awaited event wasn't going to be so much about guesses and wondering than it was about details and schedules. While the mystery can be exciting, I am a detail and schedule kind of gal, so I wasn't really complaining about this aspect of a planned C-section.

It was a pretty frigid and crazy-weather-filled few months prior, but 2/12 was a fairly basic Seattle winter day: cold, gray and damp. I'd made it through my last day of work on 2/11, tired, but in good shape. My folks came up that evening, charged with the baby-, house- and cat-sitting while we were to be in the hospital.

I think the hardest part of waiting out those last hours was the restlessness; knowing we were so close to meeting our new baby and starting life as a full family did plenty to test my patience. Added to that, though, was hunger and thirst! The C was scheduled originally for 11:30am and bumped back to 12:30 to accommodate our OB Akiko Kurachi's schedule. This meant rising early (who sleeps in with a 25 month old and a teeny tiny bladder?) and starving my way through half the day. No small feat for a very pregnant woman, especially if she's me who normally eats and drinks all day long. Anyhow, I'd chosen to have pizza for dinner (yum) and scheduled a wake up call for myself to swallow a big, thick, PBJ and slug down a giant glass of chocolate soy milk at midnight. Good thing I did that because it was the very last I'd have for the next 37 hours. I've NEVER gone that long without food!

The next morning, I showered and dressed, unpacked and repacked my hospital bag, (absentmindedly leaving out socks for the baby's trip home from the hospital) and milled about, waiting for the morning to pass. Thankfully we had a fuller house with Nana and Pepere around to help distract me because I couldn't quite focus on anything. I know I planted tons of kisses on Zoe - as many as she'd let me, anyways. I was going to be away from her for a few days, doing something that was going to rock her little world, and I was quite sensitive to all of it. I knew chances were slim that she'd remember much of it - life before baby - but I just didn't want to put any negative marks in her mind about the day.

After measuring Zoe's height (what we do on or near the 12th of every month), Dave and I left for the hospital. It was around 10am, I think. Plenty early enough to not have to worry about the short drive into Ballard - I was in no mood for being held up by traffic! We talked about Zoe as we pulled out of the neighborhood - how did she seem? she seemed to know something was up...did I remember to tell Nana this and that? - and then I think we got a bit quiet. I'm sure we talked but I don't remember much until we were on 15th, just north of where you turn onto Market to head over to the hospital. I remember wondering out loud if my instincts were going to be right this time - that we'd be having a boy. I'd been SO convinced for SO much of the pregnancy (since about 6 weeks, right about when I'd become convinced Zoe was a girl in her pregnancy), that I was nearly certain that wasn't going to be the surprise of the day. And I remember Dave saying something to the effect that he hoped I wouldn't be disappointed when it turned out to be a girl. Just like that. He said it as though that's what he knew was going to happen - us having another girl. I kind of guffawed to myself. He had no clue! He wasn't the one carrying the baby. How could he say something like that? I just replied with the truth: that of course I wouldn't be disappointed if it was a girl. I would just be hugely surprised because I'd been SO convinced for SO long that it was a boy that it would be an amazing thing if I was wrong. I think he chuckled with a bit of disbelief.

We parked. We gathered our things. We walked in to the hospital and made our way to the maternity ward where it felt VERY weird to walk up and introduce ourselves to the staff. We had an appointment to deliver our baby. So odd. But, the oddness gave way to familiarity. We'd been there before, done the same thing before. We half-expected to know half the nursing staff. Fortunately, though, we were assigned someone new and fabulous. Jackie was young and cool and funny and sweet and seemed to jive well with my banter and Dave's bad jokes. And, we discovered, she was a friend of the family almost! She knew Chris and Erin! Seattle is an easy town to be recognized in with the last name of St. Pierre ;)

The waiting DID take forever. They did NOT invite me to strip down right away. They did NOT hook me up and wheel me down right away. We got to get really settled in before ANYTHING seemed to start happening. The only thing that kept my patience was listening to the baby's heart beat on the monitor. It was kind of nice news to also hear that I was having lots of tiny contractions. As though my body and the schedule for the C were actually in sync. And then, when they had us start to get ready, it kind of went by pretty fast. Dave was suddenly in his daddy scrubs and we were headed to the OR.

It was odd to look around at the waiting area outside the OR - where I'd sat two years prior in a haze of pain and fear and tears - and to literally chat up the nurses and anesthesiologist while they asked some last-minute questions (when did you last eat/drink, any conditions, how much do you weigh (!), etc). Then, I finally got through the door. I thought it would fly by after that - it had with Zoe - but things seemed to slow way down because as we progressed through each preparatory step, I remembered the next step to come and the next after that...and all the steps between me and the baby. Crazy-making. It was an eternity, however, that I lay there, naked from the waist down, arms and legs splayed out, in a room full of nurses and assistants and students and the anesthesiologist before the Dr. finally arrived. She was running late. I guess it wouldn't have been appropriate for me to scream that I didn't have all day, so I kept talking, about random things, trying to keep my mind going.

Fra Na, our midwife, was on my right, Dave was up near my head, giving me some updates about the progress. I felt the tugging and poking, lots of coldness and then the release of my uterus after the incision. Then LOTS more tugging as they reached in to grab the baby's head. And then I heard it, the cry that will stay with me forever. It was less a cry than a yell. A big "hey!" from someone who wanted to be heard. I asked if my ears were right - if that was actually the baby - and giggled at the news that I was right. And then I announced that my milk had come in. That's all it took. The room was impressed :)

So much was happening, I knew, but nothing was happening. I was amazed at how long it took before finally Dave peered over the curtain and then bent down over my head and said "It's a Maggie."

A Maggie.

I was instantly a kite. Floating. And instantly confused! Did he say Maggie? Awesome! How could that be? A girl? A girl!

I've only been so surprised one other time in my adult life: the day I found out I was still carrying Maggie.

Those two moments taught me something pretty big: I can be so convinced. So certain. And still so wrong. And then so thrilled to be wrong. Crazy for someone who so likes to be right.

Dave took Maggie and brought her around the curtain for me to steal a look. She was covered in the waxy coat of new life and had a scrunched up little face and so much black, black hair...and that cowlick! I thought: fix it! She's going to hate that thing when she's older. They have to fix it for her! And then I thought: but she's beautiful. She's my girl. Our girl.

And so, for something so watched and so planned, I still had a huge surprise in the end. A fantastic, lovely, vociferous and beautiful surprise.

As they were stitching me up, tending to business, the room was cheery and chatty. I remember getting a compliment on my abs (ha) and the anesthesiologist declaring it a 'perfect C'. Not something I thought I'd ever strive for, but it sounded good at the time.

We got back to the room, the three of us, in a blur. But then once we settled back in, it all became so vivid. I knew exactly what I wanted to do: nurse. And boy, did I have a taker! Maggie nursed a good ten times in the short time we were at the hospital (leaving a day early). Little did I know it was a pre-curser for lots more round-the-clock feedings to come, but alas, I was thrilled.

That afternoon, Nana and Pepere brought Zoe over. Maggie was all of 4 hours or so old when she met her sister for the first time, but I think it was love at first sight. It certainly was for me.

Our family has reached completeness and I love that it's you who brought us here, Maggie.

Super-Maggie party

Last weekend, lots of the St.Pierre side family was in town - Auntie Pauline and Uncle Skip from NH, and Uncle Greg from ME - so we decided to move up Maggie's first birthday celebration. It was a family-packed, fun-filled weekend.

Some shots of the festivities:


A hand from Uncle Brian, proving she can and will stand up


Great gnoshing with Uncle Greg, Cousins Keith & Amy, Uncle Skip, Auntie Erin, Daddy, Auntie Pauline, Uncle Chris, Nana and Pepere


Daddy and Uncle Brian


Mooooo!


Happy Birthday, Moo!



Getting acquainted, falling in love


The pro


Where's the hose?


Feigning interest...


but really wanting to catch up on the Nat Geos?


Assistance from big sis


Cut off at the pass, Auntie Tammy & Cousin Hannah


Snuggling and the big game

Big girl stuff - update!

OK. I wasn't going to do this, but Zoe had another great day at potty training today, despite having two accidents. The first was her first real poop in a couple of days (shy bowels?) and the second coming right after her afternoon nap (from which she woke DRY, in her BGPs!). So now we know our vulnerable points. However, she did a fantastic job of volunteering to go potty out of the blue all day long and delivering on the spot most of the time.

And! I just got a call - a half hour or so after she went down for the night - to her room. She was concerned that daddy had pulled the towel we'd put under her for her nap. I told her that she didn't need to worry because she was wearing her diaper and that she would continue to do so until she got a little better at going on the potty.

She told me she had to go potty.

So, away we went down the hall to the bathroom, aided by her new nightlight. She held it like a pro while we fumbled with her sleepers and then, voila! She went pee!

Yes!

Friends

Some cute shots of the girls and their pal, Lucy, from their play-date this weekend:


Tall tower, Maggie, too


Have vacuum and everything else? Must be ready to "go to the store and to the picnic"!


Girls only


Ol' timers kickin' up the dogs on the front porch

Big girl stuff

This weekend, the girls and I have all been working on some pretty significant milestones. Some are fantastic, some not so much so, and some a bit bittersweet, but given this mighty convergence, I think it's all pretty notable stuff.

Maggie Jean is now officially one year old. She now officially has three teeth (#3 appeared at her birthday party!) and is working on her fourth. She's been doing a fantastic job of sitting up on her own (finally!) and this weekend is letting daddy put her down for naps (in other words, has been going down without my boobies) while at the same time has been graduating from the bottle to a sippy cup filled with hybrid breast/cow milk, because...

I have officially RETIRED the pump! No more lugging it around and no more hassle with the boobies in the middle of work! Oh joyous day!

But, sadly, I've also retired my Fridays off with the girls. This could bring me to tears, thinking about the girls both being in daycare yet another day, but I'm deciding for the sake of my mental health that I need to try look at this as a positive thing. I will have more time in the office to keep up on my work and connect with my co-workers and constituents which means less anxiety for me on Monday mornings when, for the past 9 months, I've faced very full inboxes of mail, voicemail and email amidst many, many meetings. It's also going to be an informative change for us as a family: we'll now have a truer sense of what life as two full-time-working parents will mean to our routines and down-time with the girls. I'm not saying this is a great thing, but rather an inevitable thing.

And on the list of inevitabilities is Zoe's potty training. It would be great to put an exclamation point on that, but we're not quite in celebration mode just yet. However, we're making HUGE strides this weekend: Zoe has been wearing her big girl pants during her awake hours (still in dipes for naps and overnight) since Friday and has had only two accidents. And a very fortunate turn of events presented us yesterday with a play-date with her good friend, Lucy. Lucy has been using the potty for quite some time and Zoe certainly benefited from seeing a pro in action (oh, sometimes peer pressure is a FABULOUS THING). She did show a bit of reluctance yesterday (especially during her post-nap grumpiness. boy howdy.) but today has been very successful in trying, going and not having accidents. I'm not going to jinx us by making any strong predictions here, but I think by the end of this extra-long weekend, we will have some serious progress on this front.

I read somewhere at some point that you shouldn't do too many transitions with kids at once, that it can become overwhelming for everyone. However, I must say that our girls are taking to all of these changes, so far, quite well. The week after this next shall be the real test, when life is in full swing, but for now, I'm enjoying being holed up in the house, working on all our big girl stuff together.