This blog became a cobweb some time back. I'm leaving it here, and occasionally pointing to it from my newer ventures, as it does chronicle 8 years or so of my internetworked life.
If you'd like to catch up with what's new in my little world, I've resurrected my online efforts under a new handle. Pop over to The Dorian Era.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Wednesday, April 03, 2013
Day 41, Dorian Era
Wow, I've been trying to post again since day TWENTY one, but time runs away from you with a baby in hand. Someone once said to me "the days are very long, but the weeks, months, years go so quickly". This is proving true.
The wee one will be 6 weeks tomorrow! Eventful and mundane weeks all at once. I really don't have anything to write on a blog about being a new mum that hasn't been written before. At the same time, THIS baby and THIS new mum haven't been through this before, so it's all new. So, you're warned. Probably boring unless you're really interested in at least one of us.
Things are going mostly wonderfully. A few minor scares, mostly with me, that had me back in ER at 9 days and again at 3 weeks, first for my incision being weird and, errr... , leaking. Next was for a very sudden attack of a fever - while I was already at the hospital for a routine thing for Dorian - that had me there shivering and sweating and wondering if I had an infection. I sat there for 11 hours before I got to a doc who ordered a blood panel, and another hour waiting just to be told "no infection - probably a bug". Which I had guessed - but given that I was 3-weeks post surgery, I had been told to come back if I "felt fluish". Anyway, a large dose of Motrin and 6 more hours (next morning) and all was well. No idea what that really was.
Dorian's "scare" took her on an adventure all the way to Hamilton and back. The screening we had at Grand River reported that she had bilateral hip dysplasia. This sent us to a paediatric orthopaedic surgeon at McMaster for a REAL assessment, which, thankfully, was "mostly fine - I'd like to double check in a few more weeks". The surgeon thought first, there was a measuring error on the scan and second, because D was born at 37 weeks, 3 weeks post-birth was too early to make a reliable assessment and it really should have been done closer to 6 weeks (3 weeks if she had been full-term). So it looks like it will be nothing, but we will double check for sure, as the consequences of not dealing with it can be severe later in life.
Aside from those adventures, we are muddling by as new moms and babies do. Dorian also had a partial tongue-tie clipped at 28 days, which immediately improved her ability to latch to a breast for feeding. Unfortunately she's used to a bottle, I am not too productive (age, diabetes, past breast surgery, C-section, pre-eclampsia all having negative effects), and she's not patient enough too often to put in the work. I'm still a bit disappointed in it all, but dealing. Pumping every time she feeds, I get 4-5 ounces per day of breast milk, and the rest formula right now. Lately there have been a couple of evenings where she's been mellow and not starving so was patient enough to help herself for a while, so hopefully those little interludes will continue. My own doctor refused to prescribe helpful pharmaceuticals, and the paediatrician we saw about the tongue tie was willing, but not while I'm on the blood pressure med I'm still taking (but tapering off). So I'm trying herbs and foods reputed to help - maybe they have, but a 20% improvement in not a heck of a lot is not a heck of much more. Oh well.
I find watching her development fascinating, from her beginning to focus her eyes more, to new vocalizations coming out of her, to the most recent, her first attempts at intentional action. She's taken to finding something to look at, like a hanging toy, staring at it intently and then bursting into a big flap with both arms to try to get whatever it is that caught her interest. She sometimes hits the toy. She sometimes hits herself in the head, which is sad and funny all at once because it kind of baffles her that something hit her in the head.
She does still sleep a lot of the time... including SEVEN HOURS last night?!?!?! I didn't think that was even possible for a couple more months, but she did.
Unfortunately, I had insomnia at the same time. Daddy got some sleep, at least.
The wee one will be 6 weeks tomorrow! Eventful and mundane weeks all at once. I really don't have anything to write on a blog about being a new mum that hasn't been written before. At the same time, THIS baby and THIS new mum haven't been through this before, so it's all new. So, you're warned. Probably boring unless you're really interested in at least one of us.
 |
| First Day Out at the Park Photo by Adam Benjamin |
Things are going mostly wonderfully. A few minor scares, mostly with me, that had me back in ER at 9 days and again at 3 weeks, first for my incision being weird and, errr... , leaking. Next was for a very sudden attack of a fever - while I was already at the hospital for a routine thing for Dorian - that had me there shivering and sweating and wondering if I had an infection. I sat there for 11 hours before I got to a doc who ordered a blood panel, and another hour waiting just to be told "no infection - probably a bug". Which I had guessed - but given that I was 3-weeks post surgery, I had been told to come back if I "felt fluish". Anyway, a large dose of Motrin and 6 more hours (next morning) and all was well. No idea what that really was.
Dorian's "scare" took her on an adventure all the way to Hamilton and back. The screening we had at Grand River reported that she had bilateral hip dysplasia. This sent us to a paediatric orthopaedic surgeon at McMaster for a REAL assessment, which, thankfully, was "mostly fine - I'd like to double check in a few more weeks". The surgeon thought first, there was a measuring error on the scan and second, because D was born at 37 weeks, 3 weeks post-birth was too early to make a reliable assessment and it really should have been done closer to 6 weeks (3 weeks if she had been full-term). So it looks like it will be nothing, but we will double check for sure, as the consequences of not dealing with it can be severe later in life.
Aside from those adventures, we are muddling by as new moms and babies do. Dorian also had a partial tongue-tie clipped at 28 days, which immediately improved her ability to latch to a breast for feeding. Unfortunately she's used to a bottle, I am not too productive (age, diabetes, past breast surgery, C-section, pre-eclampsia all having negative effects), and she's not patient enough too often to put in the work. I'm still a bit disappointed in it all, but dealing. Pumping every time she feeds, I get 4-5 ounces per day of breast milk, and the rest formula right now. Lately there have been a couple of evenings where she's been mellow and not starving so was patient enough to help herself for a while, so hopefully those little interludes will continue. My own doctor refused to prescribe helpful pharmaceuticals, and the paediatrician we saw about the tongue tie was willing, but not while I'm on the blood pressure med I'm still taking (but tapering off). So I'm trying herbs and foods reputed to help - maybe they have, but a 20% improvement in not a heck of a lot is not a heck of much more. Oh well.
I find watching her development fascinating, from her beginning to focus her eyes more, to new vocalizations coming out of her, to the most recent, her first attempts at intentional action. She's taken to finding something to look at, like a hanging toy, staring at it intently and then bursting into a big flap with both arms to try to get whatever it is that caught her interest. She sometimes hits the toy. She sometimes hits herself in the head, which is sad and funny all at once because it kind of baffles her that something hit her in the head.
She does still sleep a lot of the time... including SEVEN HOURS last night?!?!?! I didn't think that was even possible for a couple more months, but she did.
Unfortunately, I had insomnia at the same time. Daddy got some sleep, at least.
Monday, February 25, 2013
4 and 1/2 Days Into The New World Order
So, what does one do when you turn that corner into "mid life", in the middle class, modern first world, and when things are going well, work is stable, and neither you nor your spouse is the type to trade either car or partner for the younger, sportier model? Just to shake it up a bit?
Apparently you have a baby at 41.
Dorian Marisa B. arrived last Thursday, via an early and somewhat scramble-the-jets, not-quite-emergency C-section. She is fine, and I will be once I heal up a bit.
My pregnancy was for the most part mundanely unenjoyable, until about week 36, when a blood pressure spike prompted my terse but attentive OB to order rest, tests every 48 hrs, and schedule a C-section for Feb 28. Then she went on vacation for a week. By the time I saw her backup for my mid-week-37 check, tests indicated I had pre-eclampsia that was advancing, despite still feeling fine. I was risking seizure or stroke. Before I had even met the backup, she had called the hospital about bumping the delivery even earlier. And while it turned out the hospital was fully booked for the week for "scheduled" sections, apparently I was serious enough to merit adding an extra shift.
In the course of that coming together I was admitted overnight Wednesday, Feb 20th and told to be ready to deliver any time from Thurs through the weekend, whenever the team could be arranged. Well, arrangement came together around 6am Thursday, and Dorian was out and getting a check over by a NICU team in the room just after 7:30. She needed a tiny bit of help to jump start breathing, but bless that OB & team, they had anticipated everything and we heard her little voice in about a minute. They never took her from the room, and once her vitals were up, they bundled her up for Adam to hold beside me while I got reassembled. She was handed to me to snuggle on the way to recovery then to our room. I must admit, the remainder of Thursday is a bit of an uncomfortable blur, as despite the excitement, major abdominal surgery does usually come with drawbacks. I do recall getting up to walk by that night - just across the hall from a semi to the private room we requested if available... but I had to sit down in the hall for a bit even to be able to make that trip!
We were in for the rest of the weekend, with Adam being absolutely awesome and just running back and forth home to hospital to take care of everything. I think he changed all but 2 of the first 25 diapers, too. The post-C-section nursing staff at Grand River deserve three hearty cheers for the awesome care of all of us, too, from the careful handling through all of the Dorian's tests and my monitoring to showing Adam where he could help himself to as many blankets and towels as we wanted. It was also a blessing to be able to afford the private room. Dorian needed 2 blood glucose tests in a row above a certain number, and it took about 7 to make it there, poor tyke - but the nurses were right there with a little bit of pain care for her and she didn't even squeak through all the heel stabs (I did. Her poor little feet!)
One thing they must warn all new parents about is the post-partum hormone hit, or "baby blues" expected around 3-5 days after delivery. Of course, most moms are home by then, but not if you've had a surgical delivery. So, for me, things hit abruptly, and strangely - at 2.5 days in. Saturday night, Adam had just fed Dorian her supplement, and was passing her to me, while I was standing in front of him. Just as I took her, she burped - and spit up, just the tiniest amount, but with a lot of pressure behind it. Hit her Daddy right between the eyes.
I nearly killed myself. I didn't just snicker or even giggle a little. I started a giggle fit I couldn't control, and yelled at Adam to take her back before I dropped her. And being 2.5 days post C-section and still stapled, it HURT. Holy heck, did it hurt. I could have sworn I was hearing staples pinging across the room as I collapsed on the bed, still laughing, and now sobbing from the pain, but just not able to stop. Thankfully, I was allowed Percocet while still incarcerated, so could up the potency of my next round of pain meds.
We were sent home Sunday, me feeling rather swollen, a little unready and still very wobbly, but at least with all staples removed and no further tests needed. But we didn't check out until Adam made sure she had a few glamour shots done in the lovely winter window light in our room.
The gown is an heirloom in Adam's family, worn home from hospital by his mom, all his siblings and so far his niece and nephew as well. The band-aid from all the heel tests keeps making me sniffle (hormones, yo), her poor little foot was so bruised, and she never made a sound about it.
Since getting home Sunday, I made it upstairs and stayed there until quite late Monday night when Dorian was cozily asleep and I dared challenge the stairs again to sync/charge my iThings. Things are improving, but any surgery is a nasty reminder of how frail one can be, and I have to make a serious plan for every trip to the bathroom (for me) or nursery (for Dorian). Getting in and out of bed actually requires a step stool and another careful plan for exactly which directions I can and can't roll, step, or crawl right now, and doing it all while handling a floppy little daughter is a whole extra layer of challenge.
The post-partum hormone hit continues to add to the frustration, as I'm not often debilitated enough to need to ask for help but I can't even check my incision myself, or reach Dorian's basinet if I'm in bed - or roll to that side to look at her, in fact. I'm also both foggy (about most things) and focused (on baby) at once and Adam is getting frustrated that I can't coherently answer him about some detail or other of the next day he needs to discuss. He's still being a trooper and waiting on us both hand&foot, though I did finally change my 3rd diaper today (he's done the other, oh, 95 or so we've already had).
And there have been a few more bouts of giggling and sobbing all at once, or just sobbing to myself over the kid - all "normal", but strange. Today's hormonal mom moments were brought on by realizing how much I'll miss her as every day goes by and she's a bit more grown than the snuggly newborn baby I get to hold only for right now. I'll have a new Dorian tomorrow.
Apparently you have a baby at 41.
Dorian Marisa B. arrived last Thursday, via an early and somewhat scramble-the-jets, not-quite-emergency C-section. She is fine, and I will be once I heal up a bit.
 |
| Dorian Marisa Blanket-Burrito Feb 21st, 2013 7:34 am 8lbs 6oz |
In the course of that coming together I was admitted overnight Wednesday, Feb 20th and told to be ready to deliver any time from Thurs through the weekend, whenever the team could be arranged. Well, arrangement came together around 6am Thursday, and Dorian was out and getting a check over by a NICU team in the room just after 7:30. She needed a tiny bit of help to jump start breathing, but bless that OB & team, they had anticipated everything and we heard her little voice in about a minute. They never took her from the room, and once her vitals were up, they bundled her up for Adam to hold beside me while I got reassembled. She was handed to me to snuggle on the way to recovery then to our room. I must admit, the remainder of Thursday is a bit of an uncomfortable blur, as despite the excitement, major abdominal surgery does usually come with drawbacks. I do recall getting up to walk by that night - just across the hall from a semi to the private room we requested if available... but I had to sit down in the hall for a bit even to be able to make that trip!
We were in for the rest of the weekend, with Adam being absolutely awesome and just running back and forth home to hospital to take care of everything. I think he changed all but 2 of the first 25 diapers, too. The post-C-section nursing staff at Grand River deserve three hearty cheers for the awesome care of all of us, too, from the careful handling through all of the Dorian's tests and my monitoring to showing Adam where he could help himself to as many blankets and towels as we wanted. It was also a blessing to be able to afford the private room. Dorian needed 2 blood glucose tests in a row above a certain number, and it took about 7 to make it there, poor tyke - but the nurses were right there with a little bit of pain care for her and she didn't even squeak through all the heel stabs (I did. Her poor little feet!)
One thing they must warn all new parents about is the post-partum hormone hit, or "baby blues" expected around 3-5 days after delivery. Of course, most moms are home by then, but not if you've had a surgical delivery. So, for me, things hit abruptly, and strangely - at 2.5 days in. Saturday night, Adam had just fed Dorian her supplement, and was passing her to me, while I was standing in front of him. Just as I took her, she burped - and spit up, just the tiniest amount, but with a lot of pressure behind it. Hit her Daddy right between the eyes.
I nearly killed myself. I didn't just snicker or even giggle a little. I started a giggle fit I couldn't control, and yelled at Adam to take her back before I dropped her. And being 2.5 days post C-section and still stapled, it HURT. Holy heck, did it hurt. I could have sworn I was hearing staples pinging across the room as I collapsed on the bed, still laughing, and now sobbing from the pain, but just not able to stop. Thankfully, I was allowed Percocet while still incarcerated, so could up the potency of my next round of pain meds.
We were sent home Sunday, me feeling rather swollen, a little unready and still very wobbly, but at least with all staples removed and no further tests needed. But we didn't check out until Adam made sure she had a few glamour shots done in the lovely winter window light in our room.
 |
| Is THIS my good side, Dad? (please click image for full size display) |
The gown is an heirloom in Adam's family, worn home from hospital by his mom, all his siblings and so far his niece and nephew as well. The band-aid from all the heel tests keeps making me sniffle (hormones, yo), her poor little foot was so bruised, and she never made a sound about it.
Since getting home Sunday, I made it upstairs and stayed there until quite late Monday night when Dorian was cozily asleep and I dared challenge the stairs again to sync/charge my iThings. Things are improving, but any surgery is a nasty reminder of how frail one can be, and I have to make a serious plan for every trip to the bathroom (for me) or nursery (for Dorian). Getting in and out of bed actually requires a step stool and another careful plan for exactly which directions I can and can't roll, step, or crawl right now, and doing it all while handling a floppy little daughter is a whole extra layer of challenge.
The post-partum hormone hit continues to add to the frustration, as I'm not often debilitated enough to need to ask for help but I can't even check my incision myself, or reach Dorian's basinet if I'm in bed - or roll to that side to look at her, in fact. I'm also both foggy (about most things) and focused (on baby) at once and Adam is getting frustrated that I can't coherently answer him about some detail or other of the next day he needs to discuss. He's still being a trooper and waiting on us both hand&foot, though I did finally change my 3rd diaper today (he's done the other, oh, 95 or so we've already had).
And there have been a few more bouts of giggling and sobbing all at once, or just sobbing to myself over the kid - all "normal", but strange. Today's hormonal mom moments were brought on by realizing how much I'll miss her as every day goes by and she's a bit more grown than the snuggly newborn baby I get to hold only for right now. I'll have a new Dorian tomorrow.
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