2 Months in FF

So, Benji was born and named, then what?

Lots of people visited us (nice to see you all)

We were well-fed (thanks for all the meals)

Baby photo-shoot (Jaybee Images - highly recommended)

Benji preferred the nights (thank god that was just a phase)

Banjo’s new cousin was officially announced (April 15^th D-day)

first cousin pic

baby on board!

Babies love dress-up (so many cute outfits to choose from)

Bingo was a candy corn for Halloween (or a sugar-corn as Maria called it)

I did not eat Benji (don’t let the picture confuse you)

Benji prefers noise and chaos to sleep in (convenient)

We got a new car to better accommodate a carseat (one step closer to a mini van)

Bye bye CC, hello Passat (its white, for those of you like me who can’t picture car models, but can see colors)

Benji turned 1 month (where'd the time go?)

Banjo grunts (its pretty funny and happens a lot)

Banjo rips ass (his farts are like 15 seconds long)

Banjo smiles! (best thing ever)

The dogs love Benji (duh)

Gus gives kisses and Benji laughs (I’ve tried to curb Gus’ toilet water habit)

Walter tried to sniff Benji and they shocked each other (Wally=scared of baby for 24 hours)

0-3 month clothes started getting tight (glad those were useful for 6 weeks)

Patrick A. Tefft, Esq. got a job (woot woot)

Benji slept through Thanksgiving (serious food coma – most sleeping in a day ever!)

I went back to work (cried 3 times)

I came home to Matt with the baby and the vacuum on (white noise)

Benji is cooing and gooing up a storm (so funny to see what triggers the chatter)

Spit bubbles! (easily amused – the baby, not Matt)

Banjo’s first snow (that first one was pretty with the chunky snowflakes)

Benji turned 2 months and Matt celebrated 11 months (what a devout catholic)

Vaccinations (they knocked him out for 3 days. Scary but productive days for me)

95% for weight, 90% for height and 97% for head circumference (Heed! Pants! Now!)

We put up a Christmas tree (lights are mesmerizing)

We sing Christmas carols (he loves my singing and the songs I make up)

Pumping at work is a pain (lock in office = installed)

Baptism prep classes (I had no idea you had to go to class for this. Be forewarned so you can plan accordingly)

I was scared of clipping nails until my boob got clawed (snip, snip)

Benji snores occasionally (we’ve been going to bed around 8 or 9 – yes we’ve and I’m yawning)

And that puts us here! Today! Hopefully Benji starts doing funny stuff so we can keep this thing rolling.

Who Knew?

Pregnancy seems like forever ago. Benji will be 2 months tomorrow so I guess I’m about 60 days clean and sober (from a fetus). After reflecting on the birth experience to write it into blog form, some things stood out that either blindsided me, were not what I had expected, or had just never crossed my mind. I figured I would share since everyone and their mom is pregnant right now. Maybe you will go into your labor and delivery a little bit wiser….

Things No one tells you about labor, delivery and the whole enchilada:

Contractions do not warn you for the coming of the water. Water breaking does not mean you’re having contractions.

Aren’t the movies glamorous? I thought I would wake up one night, stand up and whoosh, water. Then I would have a contraction, walk the dogs, bake a soufflé, mop the floor… Matt would get out the stopwatch, and once they were 5 minutes apart, we would merrily drive to the hospital where our baby would follow shortly after (flown in by a stork in that lala land). Hold Up. Screeching breaks. Hello Reality, I’m Katy. Once my water broke, I thought I was having contractions and my pain tolerance was just so great that they weren’t bothering me. Pick yourself up off the ground from laughing so hard. I ain’t seen nothin yet.

When your water breaks, it is broken.

The ‘water’ keeps coming. Don’t run. You have to sit in a puddle helpless, while nurses swap out bed liners and your husband watches with a twisted look of disgust, amusement, and intrigue. This ‘swap’ happens 500 times exposing your wet butt every time you have to ‘lift’ off of the puddle pad. Showers are not an option – for at least 12 more hours depending on when the baby comes.

Contractions hurt.

I have no words.

You are not Bipolar.

Unless you really are, then I suggest a psychiatrist. The bipolar I’m talking about is the evil version of yourself that comes out during contractions. I felt like the girl from ‘The Exorcist’~ eyes bulging, hair all wacky, lots of grunting mixed with slurs of profanities…and boom. Back to sweet little old me. Over and over. And Over. And Over 6 more times…

‘Epidural’ is no 4-letter word.

I went in thinking I’d be brave. I wanted to be as present as possible during the birth. The internet is full of horror stories… paralysis, nerve damage, DEATH! None of that even crosses your mind in the heat of contractions. The needle I didn’t look at, also brings no ill feelings. In fact, it brings no feelings at all (when inserted during said contractions, you don’t even feel it)~ and literally, no feelings at all. “Mom get my leg, its falling off the bed.”

An epidural includes a catheter.

Wow. That didn’t even cross by mind but, duh. How else would you make the 4,679 trips to the pot in 24 hours?

Catheters are a welcomed thing.

They sound scarier than they really are. I’d guess the thought of one on a guy is much worse but the best part about having one is that it’s the first pee relief in months! If you’ve never been pregnant, once you are, you will appreciate the promise of any sort of relief – even if it means a sack of pee hooked onto you that your kid brother, who is no kid at all, is very amused by.

Photo Courtesy of PK Images

Nurses have see grosser/nastier/skuzzier/stinkier things and people.

It started with my ‘water’ trail to the bathroom. I use quotations on ‘water’ because this is no refreshing spring. It is fluid that has been festering, in a body, for months (and the baby had pooped a little in it). It has a distinct smell (which the internet calls ‘sweet’ as opposed to the acidic smell of urine). Deal with it. It will pour out of you, especially when you’re in the exact position the hospital bed reclines at. Deal with it. When your bottom half is numbed, someone else will have to change the soaked linens beneath you. Deal with it. Your husband, mom, family members visiting, nurses and any other random medical personnel will witness the messes coming from your body. Deal with it. This is the nurses' job and they see it every day. I just kept telling myself, at least I’m not someone with folds of skin to lift and clean out, at least I showered today… well maybe yesterday, at least I wear deodorant. That puts me miles ahead of some of the patients I’d seen in the clinic.

*Sidenote – the Creighton staff was also very pleased with the family and visitors we had with us. Some of the yoo-hoos coming in and out of that place are sketchy. Riffraff have babies too.

C-sections do not include a slice down your stomach.

In my head, they slice your stomach vertically, pull back the 2 sides and there’s the baby waving at you with a grin. Hello baby, lets pull you out. Nope. I have an incision, barely 6 inches long, right above my pubic bone. They call it a bikini something or other. Minimal eye sore. They have to push the baby like some twisted massage starting near your chest to work it down through the incision. This massage is apparently pretty vigorous when your baby is 9”7. That will become apparent when you can’t breathe. “Oh, you’re fine. The pressure you feel on your lungs is from us pushing the baby down. You have a big baby.”

C-section babies are out in a flash, you are stuck there for much longer.

Literally stuck. They tie your arms down. The worst part of the process has nothing to do with pain or surgery~ I don’t remember any of that. The worst thing is not getting to hold him or even see him right away. Matt eventually brought him to me but I had to just look. I still had a solid 30 minutes of work left and Matt and baby were on their way to meet the family. I became super possessive and didn’t want anyone else to get to spend that time with my baby. In the end, its better ‘them’ than no one. At least ‘them’ is grandparents, aunts and uncles who are just as obsessed with the baby as you. Plus they might record that time and you’ll discover it 2 months later on your video camera and sit, watch and cry (with a baby snuggled up on you).

You instantly don’t have to pee.

What?!?! This discovery is not apparent until like 24 hours later when you go, “wait a minute, I peed longer than 4 seconds, in a ‘normal’ stream of pressure, and for the first time today! (its 2pm!)” Hallelujah! Baby off the bladder is an instant cure. Smell the roses.

You instantly feel skinny (but your jeans still don’t fit).

The first time I saw myself in the mirror, I felt tiny. Sweet! I’m one of those freaks of nature who bounce back to normal size 5 minutes after birth (and by normal size, I mean 2 sizes smaller than I was before baby). Oh, Hello again Reality, I’m still Katy. And I mean still Katy- the size I was pre-pregnancy plus about 12 pounds (you are hyper-aware of how jiggly those pounds are too after having a bump as hard as a rock for 4 months). That 12 pounds was all that remained the week after Benji was born, and its still remaining 2 months after he’s born. Breast feeding burning it off? My ass. (really, look at my ass – it only fits into 2 pairs of jeans).

That weird dark line doesn't go away.

It will~ I googled it. But they say it could be about 6 months. The giant boobs may tempt you to get into a bikini but the line screams otherwise (and the fact that your stomach skin was just reduced by the size of a basketball or two). Cancel that tropical vacay 'push present' you got me, Matt. My unsightly discoloration means no bikini for me.

It hurts to poop.

I assumed I had dodged a bullet with the C-section rather than the watermelon through a… whatever the metaphor is. But, aside from the obvious soreness and pain, your guts hurt. Slicing through my abs of steel (which laughably, they called my abs when trying to slice them. Seriously? I haven’t done a crunch since ’92) may have contributed, but a number of daily activities unknowingly use the muscles that were traumatized in delivery. You quickly find out which activities those are too. Laughing, coughing, sneezing, lifting your arms above your shoulders, rolling over, laying flat, arching your back, bending over, getting off the couch, reaching into a cupboard, straightening your hair, sitting on the pot, getting off of the pot, and yes, pushing #2, hurt.

Your maternity leave is a cruel trickery of time.

It is the laziest, busiest time of doing nothing, yet having no time to do anything. Days can drag on sitting at home in sweats, unshowered with nothing to do but weeks fly by. Everyone says it but seriously, the time flies. Why can’t work weeks move that fast? I spent 7 weeks as a lazy, scrubby, gluttonous milk machine, and I have no regrets. (except maybe not keeping up with this blog so I wouldn’t have to type 9,000 pages now)

Take pictures. You’ll appreciate it later.

How else would you all get to see my push picture? I wish I had taken one the night we went to the hospital~ a final belly picture~ but that slipped through the cracks. Looking back at the last stomach picture I have (which was 38 weeks) I can’t believe how big I was. When it was on me, I didn’t realize the bump’s magnitude but whoh baby! On D-day, hospital pictures with no makeup, greasy hair, weird faces... they WILL turn out hideous but in a laughable way. I love going back to see the all details in the expressions. You can relive the day that’s over in a flash. Snap away.

the last belly

Even though I was so over pregnancy, I already miss it.

Sorry Matt, I instantly wanted to do it all again. Baby Core #2 ETA- sooner rather than later. (and #3 and #4 and #5….) 

And one final thought,

Everybody poops.

And He Shall Be Called...

So, we have a baby boy. Now for the big question, what is his name? This was hard. We had way more girl names we both agreed on than boy names. Our boy list mainly consisted of boy names that neither of us hated, but there weren’t many we both loved. The easy part was ruling out names.

This little face was not a Henry or a Milo. Thank God, it was not a LeRoy.

“What?!? I’m not a Rodney?!?!”

Not Matt Jr. Not Rocco. (Rocco and Rocky together for daycare? Hahaha)

By Sunday afternoon (Oct.9) Baby Core needed a decision. The final running consisted of Benji, P.J. Teddy, and Rudy. We both liked the idea of having a ‘full’ name for the nickname (Katy is Katherine, Matt is Matthew) and Theodore wasn’t sitting well. We also knew Teddy could be short for Edward but Emily’s little brother had an Eddie a few weeks before. (Wouldn’t it be funny if Charlie and Emily’s kids had cousins Eddie and Teddy?) We also thought the kid would shorten ‘Teddy’ to ‘Ted’ when he became too cool for school and Ted and Teddy gave me 2 different mental images. Down to 3.

The problem with P.J.? We weren’t digging any 'P' names for the 'P' to stand for. Too many Uncle Patricks in the house already. Down to 2.

Matt had too hard of a time getting Rudy Ruettiger out of his mind but I thought once we named the baby, he’s associate it with baby, not Notre Dame. We both like Ruby and Ruthie for girls so we tried to swing the "Ru" for a boy but…. just wasn’t happening. Benji was looking good. Benjamin worked as a full name. Middle names? I was pushing ‘Matthew’ since Baby was born on Matt’s bday but Matt was not digging it. He wasn’t big on the, ‘I’m so awesome, I’ll name this baby after myself’ thing (even though I don’t think that’s how people view it). He suggested Oliver and even wanted it for a first name so he could call the kid Ollie but I couldn’t go there for 2 reasons.

This little Oregon Ollie

 And my favorite book from the St. Columbkille library

Soooo… Benjamin Oliver or Benjamin Matthew? (B.O. and B.M. – yes, we did notice this but no, I do not consider my initials to be K.E.)

This little face is definitely a Benjamin Oliver.

Oliver really turned out to be a perfect middle name. First, I love Olivia but its rapidly becoming #1 on the baby names popularity lists and any little girl we may have is all but common. We both are big fans of a little girl named ‘Olive’ but my concern is that our chubby genes and a food name would equal ridicule. As you may know, Matt and I met at Hummel Day Camp and one of the things that brought us together was shared amusement of our favorite camper P.J. (also a Patrick). This little kid was scrawny, naughty, sassy and smart-alecky but he was hilarious. He was rehearsing that summer for a role as an orphan boy in the musical, ‘Oliver,’ and after witnessing one of these little rehearsals, Matt and I were quick to grab the Choco-Tacos. 1 Taco for 1 performance (standing on top of a picnic table and belting out the words). “FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD! HOT SAUSAGE AND MUSTARD!” Sooooo hilarious. (It was an added bonus that P.J.’s mom was a hippie who loved Big Head Todd and the Monsters). P.J. spent most of his week at camp with the counselors and special privileges (that sounds gross but I mean popsicles, access to the shack and the ‘Chief’ award - okay, it still sounds gross.) and now, ‘Oliver’ always reminds Matt and I of the summer we met~ the place where the glimmer of Benji began.

So, Benji it is! Matt calls him Banjo.

“There was a mommy who had a babe and Banjo was his name-o. 

B-A-N-J-O, 

B-A-N-J-O, 

B-A-N-J-O, and Banjo was his name-o.” – a Katy Core original

Other terms of endearment have included…

Bingo

Benji-O

Bingo Bango Banjo

Banchee

B-A-N-J-O (bee ay en jay oh)

Benji-Man

I know its B.O. but his initials are B.C. or B.O.C (the stupid Board of Directors I work with apparently laughed at his initials being B.O. for 10 minutes during a meeting in my absence. Lame.)

I know ‘Benji Core’ has a slightly similar sound to the words ‘Bungee Cord’

But, I know that I can’t imagine Benji by any other name. Look at this little face….

Since Bingo has come up in this post, I will leave you with this. I can’t remember what I was watching (probably Wendy Williams – which I was initially forced to watch due to the lack of programming at 2am when nursing – which is actually pretty funny) and they were showing a clip of Drag Queen Bingo. The caller (and most flamboyant Queen) yelled out to the players, “It wasn’t malignant…” and the crowd responded a very enthusiastic, “Its benign!” B-9. Get it?!? HAHA!  Who knew Drag Queens loved Bingo?

Closing Time

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

The end of the pregnancy, the end of things being about me, the end of sleeping in, the end of drinking whenever I feel like it, the end of 'going out' on weekends, the end of impulse trips to walmart at 2am, the end of pretty much anything impulsive thanks to the new checklist of gear/supplies/humans required to leave the house, the end of 30 minute showers, the end of having any sort of spare money.... I could go on and on but lets let the new beginnings roll. This is what we've all been waiting for, right?!?

October 7^th started as a typical Friday. I was sick and tired of being at work, anxious to get this baby show on the road and BORED at the office. Time crawls by when you are bored at work but finally, the day ended (lets get serious, I skipped out about 45 minutes early). Matt had gone golfing so I decided it’d be a good time to wrap his Birthday presents for the big 2-6 he was turning the next day. In his card I wrote something to the effect of, “enjoy your last birthday as a childless guy OR you’re welcome for the greatest birthday present I can ever give you!” (I had to cover all my bases). Then I ran to Walgreens for some candy for myself and a Birthday card for my Dad since it was his Bday that day. His card also read, “enjoy your youth, soon you’ll be a grandpa!” (that card almost didn’t apply, but my water wont break for 45 more minutes, keep reading).

I peed 9 times, ate my treats, and waited for Matt to get home and FINALLY he came through the door. He plopped down on the couch and we started to discuss dinner options (to the roar of my stomach) when all of the sudden I felt a weird pop and warmth. Consider me, Miles Davis. Matt had literally been home for no more than 5 minutes and I think my water broke. I went to the bathroom, unsure of what I was really looking for and we called the hospital. I didn’t think I had peed, but it wasn’t the amount I expected for your water breaking~ not the gush I had envisioned in my nightmares~ so I didn’t know if I was just crazy. In the midst of the nurse telling me to change my clothes and wait to see if I soaked through them (gross), I started bawling. Matt took the phone (I think he and the nurse were a little panicked) and I sat on the toilet crying for no real reason… this was it. I was going to have a baby, and I was scared, nervous, anxious, excited, traumatized, worried, elated.... all rolled into one hormonal mess, literally (my water just broke) and figuratively.

After regaining my composure, we decided to just go to the hospital to get checked out. I got my bag together (my lovely, Vera Bradley duffle bag that I bought as a present to myself for having a baby), and we hit the road.

Oh, hello cute bag.

I meant to take one last picture preggo but that was obviously not at the front of my mind. Once we were in the car, I remembered I was starving since it was now like 7:45. We went through the BK drive through and thank god we did because the first thing I heard at the hospital was that I couldn’t eat anything else (Matt and I both know what happens when Katy gets hungry, and it is not someone you want to be around). We had said that we would stop and buy some scratchies on the way to the baby being born (we have a mild obsession with scratch tickets) but even though BK was an acceptable stop, we decided the gas station and our lotto winnings would have to wait. I wonder if anyone has ever won the lotto on the day they became a parent?

I am babbling….

Get to the hospital

Same pants since I had changed from the initial ‘incident’ still perfectly dry

Paperwork

Concerned this is a false alarm because of dry pants

Rooms are full

Still hungry and wishing I had ordered some extra chicken fries

Get put in junky little room and wait to get checked out to see if the water has really broken

Lady heard screaming in agony from the delivery room

Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

Finally, the door starts to open and wooosh. The floodgates open as the door is swinging open, I panic and attempt (in a hospital gown with an open back) to run to the bathroom. My ‘water’ follows me, leaving a puddley path. Awkward. At least I wasn’t a crazy peed pants person. This water was legit.

At this point, it was about 8:30 Friday night. After checking me out, and getting me admitted, I began having my first contractions. Since I hadn’t had any until that point, my pain plan was to wait and see how it went. Matt kept saying my pain tolerance was minimal and to rally the anesthesia troops but I was convinced I could wait and potentially tough it out. By 9:30, contractions were pretty consistent every 5 minutes (isn’t that supposed to be the warning sign BEFORE the water?). I was 4 cm dilated, which I had been since Monday, and the nurses said to expect about 1 cm every 1-2 hrs (for those of you who don’t know, 10cm is where we’re heading). ETA was 6am. At that point, Matt made the phone calls to the families with the update.

Things moving slow

Probably a baby in the a.m.

We’d call later - no need to rush there now

Promoted to birthing room

Rocky to the hospital anyways (shocking, I know)

FF to 11:30. I was having contractions every 60 seconds and had dilated to 7cm which was way faster than expected. The nurses thought the baby could potentially come before midnight and I was MISERABLE. Contractions are indescribable. Matt said I’d reach for his hand but if/when he’d take it I’d say, “Don’t F*$%ing touch me!” In one of the 25 seconds of relief between these torturous occurrences, I did apologize to the room for being bipolar. In the heat of a contraction, words fly, including, “Get me the F*&%ing epidural.” Matt was right. There, I said it. The drugs went in and the progression slowed down. Baby on 10/7? False alarm. Baby was coming 10/8 (Matt’s Bday!). Around 3am, I was between 8-9cm. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.

Sidenotes:

*Charlie, Emily and Patrick came to the hospital just before midnight. Patrick was tipsy I’m pretty sure, and they were all sooooo excited for baby. Charlie abandoned ship around 2 or 3 so he could get some sleep before being at his Husker tailgate at 7:30am (priorities for the big Ohio State game) but Pat and Emily stuck out the night.

*Baby was coming on Matt’s Birthday and our night nurse had had a baby on her own birthday… isn’t that kind of ironic?!?

*Some nurses kept saying ‘he’ and some kept saying ‘she’ so I asked if my file like had the gender screaming out on the front page. They all denied knowing but I think they knew and switched it up if they slipped to confuse us. Looking back, our favorite nurse Yolanda was saying “he.” Oops.

Back to the story~ (I’m just trying to give you the sense of waiting like we had)

Time goes by… so slowly (please sing that to yourself)

I peed buckets (or bags - catheter)

Jealous of Matt & Emily’s late night TB run

Sun came up

Patrick wimped out and left for the tailgate

The baby was turned in a funny position face up and they wanted him face down so they had me twisting around to try to shift it. At 8:45 they decided to have me start pushing in hopes that the baby would get situated. Pushing was a weird sensation. Due to the drugs, I didn’t really know if I was pushing the right stuff. In some weird way, I enjoyed this part- probably because there was no head squeezing down the canal. After an hour of baby not rotating or coming out, the doctor determined the head was stuck on my pelvis. I was complimented on my push skills and told, had it not been for the hang-up, I would have had a baby in the first 20 minutes. Great! Minus the part that my excellent pushes were just ramming my baby’s head into the equivalent of a brick wall!

You may wonder why I am sharing this awful picture with the universe but the face takes me back to that day and since it seems like a lifetime ago, I like being reminded of every little detail (good thing we have about 60 minutes of video of the 'details' - none of which are the birth itself, but rather comments about double chins, bats in the cave, shaving, cotton mouth... conversation was interesting in the 12 hours leading up to the pushes. Between Matt and tipsy Patrick, no subject was off limits) Let the image serve as birth control to those of you needing that sort of thing.

Back to the action~ We were told we could keep trying to push but the doctor feared that if the head got straightened out, then the shoulder may get caught up. That meant forceps, a vacuum or an emergency C-section. No, no and no. We went with the other option, a C-section, rather than more pushing. (BTW- there was an article in the paper about a similar situation that pushed. Stuck shoulder, tug on baby, permanent paralysis and nerve damage in parts of arm. Thank God we went for the knife.) We figured we would rather get the baby out without causing any more distress and before it turned into an emergency situation.

I cried

I hadn’t envisioned it this way

Matt put on a hazmat suit

Within what seemed like 5 minutes, I was being prepped in the OR

I was laying there, and finally Matt got to come in and the C-section began. I hate to say it and I hated it in the moment, but it was soooo hard to stay awake. I kept thinking to myself, ‘You are about to have a baby! Why can’t you keep your eyes open?!’ Well, possibly the fact that I have now been awake for close to 30 hours, I’ve been in labor for 14 hours, I am numbed from the chest down and my guts are on the table. It seemed like forever yet instant, all at the same time, and suddenly we heard, “Oh my God, look at this ear!” “Look at the head!” “It’s like a 2-yr old!” (insinuating it was huge) “Do you want to know what it is?” (duh) “It’s a boy!” If you feel like there is something missing from those sounds, there was~ the CRY! I started to panic and cry myself and asked Matt why the baby wasn’t crying. Unbeknownst to me, they yank him out and run away with him. Matt yelled (well not yelled) but forcefully told the 90 medical people in the room to be quiet so I could hear him in the next room. I finally heard the beautiful noise and that was that, lights out for Katy.

Matt went with the baby to bathe him and the plan was for him to take the baby to the hall gawkers (my parents, Emily – the lone ranger, Matt’s parents and his sister Katharine who were all outside of the OR waiting to hear the first cries). In and out of consciousness I drifted. Matt brought the baby over to me to see for the first time and it was beautiful to see the adoration in Matt’s gaze at our baby but awful because I couldn’t touch him and barely see him. I told Matt he was not allowed to show anyone. In the 45 minutes or so it would take to put me back together, I decided no one got to see my baby until I did first. I was adamant Matt not to let anyone see him, in fact, I think the direct quote was, “DON’T LET ANYONE SEE HIM.” Lights out again. Matt did not oblige and showed them the baby, which was fine once I came to my senses. Can you imagine if I made them all wait? My poor mom.

I am the first to admit that newborns are not the cutest things in the world. Gooey, slimey, pink, creepy-eyed, and mouse-looking babes don't do it for me, but this little guy sure is perfect. Notice the lumpy noggin. Hello pubic bone.

Baby Daddy

The nurses quickly put the hat on and would not take it off~ attempting to spare us from his apparently unsightly hematoma (I wouldn't know though, at this point the lights were out in my world, remember?)

They had told me that the process of sewing me up would take about 45 minutes after the baby was out and there was a clock right in my line of vision. Each time I woke up, I felt like I had been out for hours when in reality it was 2 or 3 minutes. Towards the end, I started to get really anxious and panicky that I couldn’t breathe. They were quick to come regulate and observe me and although I’m sure things were normal, I was freaking out because I couldn’t take a deep breath and there was so much pressure on my lungs. They told me it was because of the way they had to press on my chest to get such a big baby out. I kept asking how much longer and they kept saying they were almost done.  Finally, after more than one angry “Hurry Ups” from the loopy lady with her stuff cut open, they put me out for good.

The next time I woke up, I was in my recovery room with a little peanut across from me. What a perfect way to wake up! I was shocked he was a boy. As I said from the get go, I had way more girl vibes than boy but really, a girl would have been just as shocking. It was genderless in my mind, just a baby. I still have suspicions that Matt knew from the ultrasound but then I remember the 5,697 times I went back and forth between things looking too girly and not girly enough and I don’t think he’d put himself through that torture, had he known. I didn’t hold the baby right away because I was shaky, faint, weak and still a little loopy from the ordeal but when I finally did hold him, it was perfect.

Hello, I'm mini-Matt

Baby Boy Core was born on Saturday, October 8^th, 2011 at 10:44a.m. At 21 inches long, he weighed 9 pounds and 7.3 ounces (yes, both Matt and I have both thought, ‘thank god that didn’t come out the other way!’). When I initially was in recovery and asked Matt what the baby weighed, he said, “9 pounds, 7.3 ounces.” I told him, “No, that’s 2 weights. How much did he weigh?” After Matt repeating the weight and me arguing that that was in fact 2 weights, he gave up on the situation and said a flat, “9 pounds.” Apparently that satisfied me. (With that rationale, good thing I didn’t hold the baby.) I always assumed our baby would be big but no medical professional ever said that. In fact, that week, my doctor guessed it was ‘big’ around 8 lbs~ wrong! Big babies=healthy babies, right? His head was 14.5 inches and they said it barely fit out the incision they made. Big brain too! (not the tattoo)

Birthday Buddies

Soooo, after about 14 hours of labor, the baby (I say baby because at this point, he was still unnamed) entered the world. After 14 hours of reading, you have reached the end of this blog post. Back at the blog with a vengeance!

Week 48: The size of a BANJO!

musiclessonsokc.com

Well friends, after my 2 month hiatus, I am sure you have made the educated guess that the baby arrived! “It” has become “Benji” (Banjo is Matt’s nickname for him) and I can’t imagine our lives being any more perfect at this time (well, besides winning the lottery, being on vacation, never having to work again, snuggling my baby this very second, fitting into my jeans without cutting off my circulation, eating a cupcake – without effecting said circulation issue…). Due to a number of requests from such a loyal audience, I have decided to keep blogging the musings from my day to day life (the truth is, I am back to work and have more free time to type blog entries.) Back to work = more free time…. Don’t tell my boss.

We have a LOT to catch up on so bear with me as I bring this blog up to speed.

Week 40: Wait-y Katy

Now that I have officially driven away 40% of my audience by offending them with my disdain for the, "how are you feeling" question, and another 50% with the TMI truths about pregnancy from last week, those of you who are left (my Mom, Patrick, Pat Tefft...) have made it to D-day! That's right folks, 40 weeks later, we have hit the due date. Now what every annoying person I encounter needs to remember is that due dates are not an exact science. I am NOT late. I read that over half of all pregnancies go past their due date and there is a standard deviation of 8-9 days surrounding due dates. 10% of pregnancies go past 42 weeks!!! RELAX everyone. You think you're excited? Imagine Matt and I. If you see me at work, I have not had a baby yet and I am not in labor. If you have not received a text, call, or FB update, either nothing has happened or you are a random blog stalker and probably won't be receiving the news anyway.

Now, Week 40. Babies at 40 weeks average about 7.5 lbs, a small pumpkin. Happy October!

We went to the doctor Monday (just under 40 weeks) and I was measuring around 41 weeks. The doctor sort of smirked and said "How big do you think this baby is?" clearly insinuating it might be on the bigger side of 'normal.' She threw out maybe around 8 lbs though, which didn't scare me yet. Everyone loves a fat baby. But if this drags out another week or so and the ounces keep accumulating, things could get uncomfortable. Hey, the bigger the baby, the greater the instant weight loss right!?!

Monday, the doctor also 'stripped my membranes.'  I will not go into details in an attempt to preserve the small readership I have left but feel free to google if you're curious (or ask Matt, as he enjoys sharing the details of this procedure to make people grossed out and uncomfortable). Like a lot of Wive's Tales, people swear that this makes labor happen within 24-48 hours but others report needing to be induced as much as 2 weeks after it happens. I say, let nature take its course. My 48 hours have expired.

The Old Wive's Tales make me laugh. Let's get serious, if I go into labor later today, eating an apple, eating a nectarine, G2 purple Gatorade, and sitting, staring at a computer for 8 hours all cause labor!!! I'm convinced its all coincidence although I don't think it hurts to work some of the tricks into my day if feasible. Matt and I ate Buffalo Wild Wings Monday night and I went with a spicier selection than usual (Thai Curry, Jammin' Jalapeno and Spicy Garlic - delish). At the gas station I got a raspberry leaf tea but Matt later pointed out it was black leaf tea flavored with raspberry.... whatever. I even ate eggplant parmesan which is a newer 'legend' I had heard (but after googling more, I learned its a recipe from 1 particular restaurant in Georgia that is supposed to do the trick - and biologically, its the basil and oregano, nothing else). This baby already has its Birthday picked out. Its fate. I have no desire to mess with said fate (like scheduling an induction) unless I absolutely have to. It'll be Baby Core's first big decision.

To thank my remaining readers for sticking through the good, the bad and the ugly blog posts, I have decided to post a picture. As I have said, I am not a belly picture kind of girl but I made Matt take one just in case I would want to look back someday. He took like 6, I hated and deleted them all, and I'm left with 2 to show (1 is acceptable bc my head is cut off). These pictures were from September 24, 38 weeks and 3 days (I am even bigger now).

Wasn't ready yet with a fake smile...

Zoomed - 38 weeks was the long leek

There you have it. I am pregnant. "Its low." "Its high." "Its HUGE." "You don't even look pregnant."

"Opinions are like..... and everybody's got one." - Salt-N-Pepa

My new educated guess is.... tomorrow! Baby gets its own Birthday if its tomorrow. Plus, I'm born on the 6th so 6 is a good number. AND Matt works overnight tonight and tomorrow night so odds are, being that it will be slightly inconvenient, I'll go into labor when Matt's at work. No Braxton Hicks, no other contractions, no pain, no signs though, so we will see what this pumpkin has in mind!

Gus is patiently waiting for his pumpkin too

P.S. - Someone just walked by my office and said "Still here, huh Katy?" No. No, I am not here moron. Of course I'm here! I'm sitting right here! You are looking at me!!! I am not LATE! I might be here for another WEEK!!!! WHY PEOPLE?!?!?

OMG another person. The copy lady (like stapler guy from Office Space I have mentioned, who accused me of not listing the date of Cinco de Mayo) just came to annoy me. AND she told me she'd be back to check tomorrow. Maybe I should inquire about working from home until I go into labor. I feel like a cartoon character whose ears are shooting out steam and whose head is about to blow off.

*Side note - I am not disgruntled! I am happy, and excited, and anxious for baby and friends/family are all on my good side! Its the randoms that are wearing on my squished nerves!! At work Monday, I counted 6 comments from 1 person in a 4 hour span (which doesn't include the other 39 people here)!!!

Week 39: The Truth Comes Out

Baby is slowing down in the growth department. He/she should be right around 7lbs.~ FINALLY about the same as a watermelon- the watermelon that it has looked like for weeks!

This picture makes me want more watermelon. Maybe I can get just one more this season??? I just can't get enough fruit. Matt and I have been binging on frozen grapes the last few weeks~ we bought 6 bunches Friday (they were $0.99/lb!) and may need to reload before those go out of season too. If you have never frozen grapes, stick some in the freezer and thank me later.

As of my last doctor's appointment (5 days ago) I was 3 cm dilated and 75% effaced. According to the doctor and my readings, that means absolutely nothing in terms of predicting D-Day. Some people can be hours later, some people can be weeks. I was just amazed that a couple fingers can differentiate between centimeters. I guess that is the doctor's job but still, its pretty impressive.

Matt and I are both hoping to make it to at least October (which I think is pretty likely considering its the 28th). Matt said "Core's are born in October" (he and both of his parents have October birthdays) but the real reason is because insurance deductible new year is 10/1. Ha! My prediction, as of the doctor's appointment last week, was Monday, Oct. 3 and his was Friday, Oct. 7. Winner gets.... something good. No diaper duty for a few days?

These past few weeks of pregnancy, I feel like I'm stumbling upon things that no one tells you about being pregnant. If you are awkward or uncomfortable with 'girl stuff' or too much information, stop reading now. Pregnancy has led me to be WAY less self-conscious about my body~ heck, there are way nastier people than me that get fat and pregnant. Plus, this is my blog. If you don't like the content, go google something. Like I said, Stop reading now if you don't want to know the truth about pregnancy and its effects on a body.

So, my pregnancy revelations (you're welcome pregnant friends~ this is the stuff the books don't say)...

*Last week the baby was the length of a leek. It was also the week (or month) of the leak. I won't go into vivid details, but I'm not talking about bladder control here. Just take my word, things happen. It's gross, its uncomfortable, and it can be handled with the purchase of feminine products (not tampons, as Matt so unhelpfully suggested). I think this is the first pantyliner purchase I have made since like 7th grade.

I warned you of the TMI.

*I thought I was blessed having escaped stretch marks until my lower belly poked out from under a shirt that wasn't long enough (by the way, most shirts aren't long enough) and Matt so lovingly pointed out that I had stretch marks. No, it's just that dark line he's seeing (yes, you get a weird dark line) but he was insistent, they were stretch marks. An awkward examination trying to bend with a mirror, crushing my lungs and ribs revealed the truth. I got stretch marks. Dammit.

This is a picture of whats going on in my 39th week and the entire surface area from below my belly button to about the top of my thigh (approximately the area where daisy dukes would hit) has been invisible to me for months. This arrow points to the stretch zone. Dammit. I hate the smell of cocoa butter, Dammit!

You had your chance to leave.

*The invisible area I just pointed out also makes personal grooming nearly impossible. Don't bother looking at what you're doing, you will have to bank on other senses. I get paranoid at what doctors and nurses think about different grooming varieties they encounter and their opinion of the personalities that groom particular ways but Matt has again assured me, think of all the nasty patients they have had to see. I am way less gross than the people I've observed in the waiting room, that's for sure. So if there are some missed spots, or some forgotten strays or some wild ones.... it could be worse. I could be a patient that requires the extra-wide, armless chairs in the waiting room.

My blog, my content.

*It is hard to wipe your butt. Maybe its just me and I have T-Rex arms, but seriously, I can't figure out the right angle to the back.

Not only is pooping itself hard (constipation is a normal symptom - so are hemorrhoids which thank god, I have not had), now wiping is too. UUGGHHH. At least fiber hasn't been a craving of mine.

Girls poop.

All of this nonsense contributes to me being over this. I admit, pregnancy hasn't been that bad and I have been pretty good at NOT complaining (Matt knows this is true -  he also thinks its because I want a small army and I know that being nice will be more likely to result in additional pregnancies than being whiny and difficult) but really, 39 weeks is sufficient. I am done being pregnant but I am anxious about coming out on the other side. We are as ready as we can be (Matt is installing car seat tonight, cute) but I don't think you can touch the surface of knowing what you're really in for. "Get Sleep" everyone advises. Yea, that stopped months ago. You get sleep with a watermelon strapped to your belly, pushing on your bladder and stretching your skin until it looks translucent.

For all of this, I deserve a reward.

Yea, I did it. I parked there. 39 weeks, running a quick errand, belly is quite obvious now so hopefully judgmental stares were minimal, and I got rock-star parking. Considering I only have days, or even hours left to utilize those spaces, ONE time is definitely deserved.

Also deserved is a Taco Bell Limeade Sparkler. Stumbled upon those this week... Delish

Most deserved is a baby. I get to hold him/her whenever I want so just a head's up, even if you're a visiting guest, I get first dibs :)

Week 38: Long as a Leek

Still Truckin'...6.8 lbs and over 19 1/2 inches long (the length of a leek).

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The "How are you feeling?" question is getting a little old. I feel fine, nothing has changed, if anything major happened, you would know about it. Really, I haven't felt much different in weeks. I am more tired and more exhausted but apparently that's normal. I could use a nap after work each day and its pretty easy to fall asleep before 10. The problem with going to bed early is that it adds 4 bathroom trips to my overnight agenda. I should buy stock in TP.

This past weekend I was on a roll in the kitchen. I made homemade Runza's and they were sooooo good (of course I added cheese). Even the bread was right on. Now all I need is a sausage maker that can somehow squirt the meat into the bun (TWSS) without having to fold it up like a calzone. Gus and Wigs were diggin' the Runza's too. I also made curried cauliflower soup and consumed what will probably be my last watermelon of the season (yes, I ate another whole watermelon). The old man checking me out at the grocery store was amused by the irony of the lady carrying a watermelon and buying a watermelon. He said I should have my husband lifting it but Uncle Sam called and Matt was at drill. Luckily, there was no baby while Matt was OOT.

Saturday morning, a group of my Mom's friends had a shower/brunch for me and they stocked us up with more FuzziBunz. It was a fun time with great friends and delicious food and Baby Core has some honorary Granny's who can't wait to meet him/her! That is the last of the 'showering us with Baby love' and we are definitely set with baby supplies, baby gear, yellow and green baby clothes, baby diapers etc. Its good to feel loved!

Even though Matt isn't thrilled about the idea of newborn photos, I went ahead and scheduled a session (sorry Matt, the deposit is paid :)). I figured the pictures would be something we will want down the line and since the true newborn pictures are shot in the first 10-14 days, I needed to get on it. If I knew the baby gender, I would have a serious stash of headbands or crocheted beanie things but luckily for the budget, we will have to depend on the photographers props. Check this out though, how could Matt resist pictures like these??

Searching on Etsy for fun baby stuff also leads to pictures like that. OMG. Maybe I'm drawn to that baby picture because I'm a child of the 80's...

I had a super vivid dream about having the baby 2 nights ago. It was a nameless girl and I was living at home with my parents, brothers and Matt. I put the baby to bed (the same day it was born) and went to bed at 10:30pm. At 1:30pm the next day, I woke up and went to a home improvement store with my Mom and Patrick. Half way through the excursion, it dawned on me that I hadn't checked on the baby. Patrick texted Charlie and Matt, who should have been at home where the baby was but they were both asleep and not responding. We ran out of the store to rush home and..... I woke up. What does it mean?!? Hahaha. Matt's first question when I told him about the dream was, "What did we name the baby?" Sorry Matt, no name in the dream.

People's latest prediction (besides the majority thinking its a girl) is that it will happen in September. Although I don't know if my belly looks like the baby has 'dropped' I do know that my ribs have had some relief the past week or so. Sunday when Matt was still at drill, it dawned on me that the baby hadn't been very active. I laid down and started counting. Nothing. I focused, turned off the TV, nothing. I ate something and moved around, nothing. 52 minutes went by. FIFTY TWO, with only 1 movement! Then the last 8 minutes of my 60 minute wait, the baby moved the entire time. Not just 'movements' but consistent moving, like hiccups, cartwheels and karate all at once. What a little stinker this baby is! Maybe its just extra smart and playing mind games.

Let's see if this 38th week 'leaks' (get it? my water could break? leek/leak??).

*The baby kicked me when I typed that. I think it was a "NO" kick though, not an "I'm coming" kick.

Week 37: Chard-ging Forward

This week's marks a big moment for baby... we are officially considered full-term! It's exciting to feel a little more 'in the clear' but it is also scary! Anytime is Baby time!! It could be an hour, it could be a month, and its not good for mental preparation! I'm still paranoid about counting baby movements. My stomach is super lumpy and I assume when the lumps move to different locations, that counts as a movement even though I have been too distracted to make note of it.

As far as full-term development, the baby should be about 6.5 lbs and 19inchs head to heel, which is the lenth of a stalk of swiss chard.

Swiss chard? More like Swiss cheese, Swiss Miss, Mushroom and Swiss Runza! Matt once asked if swiss cheese came from Sweden. That was when he was 'courting' me and lucky for him, I just laughed and mocked him and chose to date him anyway. Look where that has led us! Another random baby fact is that its hair could be anywhere from a 1/2" to 1 1/2" (unless it has Matt's hair genes and is bald - hopefully there is a good balance of Matt's baldness and my hairiness). Thank God there are only 3 more weeks of these development updates. The fun is definitely gone and the comparisons have definitely gotten worse.

Mommy development this week has led to a very annoying realization... I can barely cross my legs. SOOOO annoying. Sitting at work all day sucks bad enough and now my legs barely cross which means even less comfortable options. I guess thats good for my veins and my manners~ maybe crossing at the ankles will become a habit. Actually at this point, its become sitting Indian-style. Thank God I have my own office and no one has to observe my repositioning every 10 minutes.

A friend advised me not to go to movies in the last 2 months of pregnancy due to the discomfort baby brings and that was in the back of my mind when I booked Jersey Boys, Becky's New Car, and Chicago tickets all between now and next Friday. In my defense, my season OCP membership makes tickets a deal I can't refuse and luckily after Chicago, there are no shows I want to see until January. The Jersey Boys tickets were redeeming Matt's anniversary gift and how can you pass up the 'real deal' on a Broadway show? Jersey Boys was last night and I have to admit, sitting still was not easy but the show was fast-paced and had awesome music (which remember, Baby enjoyed as well since it can hear). I think the old people behind me, dressed in their theater-best, were appalled at my theater etiquette of bare feet and crossed legs flipping around every 10 minutes but hey, I'm pregnant! Leave me alone! Becky's New Car is tonight so we will see how that turns out.

In addition to my leg-crossing, sitting-still issues, my ankles, feet and fingers have turned into sausages the past week or so. Matt has given the husbandly "No, your ankles don't look fat," response but I can tell they look thicker. My feet for sure do. I'm hoping I can push the summer sandals, gauchos, skirts and dresses a few more weeks. These past few mornings have given my bare toes a run for their money but I think I can make it work.

Now that we are seriously in the home stretch, the nursery is DONE. Finally! I have shown bits and pieces of most of it but here are pictures of the whole thing. (I attempted to video a virtual tour with our new video camera but I didn't like the sound of my voice narrating it - too bad so sad.)

Looking into the room from the door

Mobile above the crib and cornice board in the background

Crib close-up (just 1 of the 5 sheets - all in different black/white fabrics)

View to left of crib (closet and dresser)

View to right of crib (ignore all of the baby junk on the changing table - laundry prep!)

Sitting Area (I cut the flowers from the cornice fabric for the lamp shade)

Love this saying!

Now all we need is a Baby to stick in the room! When will it be?!? (and WHAT will it be?!?)

Week 36: What the French? Toast.

Less than a month to go! Thank God. I am getting sick of being pregnant. It's hard to get in and out of the car, its hard to walk anywhere quickly, its hard to reach body parts (although yes, I can still see my feet), its hard to sit, hard to stand.... poor me! Its so hard to be Katy!

This week the baby should weigh around 6 pounds, gaining about an ounce a day. 6 pounds is similar to a crenshaw melon. What the heck is a crenshaw melon?

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I probably won't be eating one of those this week. Watermelon is my go-to melon substitute. I made some banana, zucchini blueberry bread yesterday that was bomb.com. Thanks to my dad's veggie garden, I had a plethora of produce. I also made spicy pickled cucumbers which were delish. A little produce was much needed after my doctor's appointment weigh-in from friday. Its not all fun and produce though, I discovered something wonderful this weekend. I haven't had consistent pregnancy cravings but every once and awhile, something with maple syrup sounds soooo good. Leave it to Wheatfields to hit the spot. Their cinnamon french toast is slices of their cinnamon rolls, battered and french toasted to perfection. Soooo good (and so healthy). Like my favorite Orbitz commercial, "What the french? Toast?"

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(That wasn't the stuff from Wheatfields but it is just as delicious, I'm sure.)

This weeks post probably won't be much to look at due to my lack of pictures from the weekend but a lot did happen. Matt busted his butt from Tuesday until the wee hours of Friday morning to get the floor in and it looks great! We (he) still needs to finish the trim but the sub-floor is covered and that was all I cared about. New carpet should be going in tomorrow (let me know if you need a funny Russian carpet installer - this guy is not only hilarious, he's good and inexpensive!).

This past weekend I had 2 baby showers and Baby Core is officially stocked (and spoiled!). Saturday was one with my Mom's side of the family plus friends. Emily, my cousin Kelly and my Aunt Jodi did a great job planning and hosting and I had a great time (I hope everyone did!). My best friend Courtney also came in from California for the shower and it was so good to spend time with her! She and I spent lots of time in the baby's room getting things opened and organized. We did a million loads of baby laundry too! Clothes, linens, blankets, burp cloths... its all smelling Dreft fresh and ready to go! My final nursery touch is a lamp I bought but I still need to put my craft project touch on it before I can do the big reveal with pictures.

Sunday, my Mom and Aunt Vicki hosted a Krebs family shower. The theme was "Katy is about to Pop" and the 'pop' theme was obvious throughout the shower. We had fun soda pops, popcorn, popcorn balls, popovers, pop rocks, pop tarts.... every pop under the sun. I had to pop balloons that were filled with questions that my 'pop' answered about me as a baby and I had surprisingly accurate answers/memories of my life before the age of 3. Okay, maybe they were good guesses but I was pretty impressed with myself! The Krebs 'group' got Baby a stroller, car seat, high chair and a bunch of other gear. The Baby officially has a ride home from the hospital now!

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My mom also dug out my favorite doll as a kid, named "Big Baby" to take the stroller for a test drive. Another doll Millie also made an appearance and as a whole, the group scientifically decided the baby is a girl. We will see about that...

I have been having some anxiety about the baby coming early. I have had my mind set on October and thinking it could happen in September really puts a new spin on things. My mind/ mental images/ month association/ color association is way different (Court, you get that, right?). Anytime it happens will be wonderful, I know, I know, but the guessing game is throwing me for a loop. No word on whether the baby is early, late, or on schedule but hopefully in my next appointment, we will get somewhat of an idea. I've been hesitant putting things on my September calendar, just in case (although lucky Matt does get to attend 2 musicals and a play in the next 2 weeks... assuming my ribs can handle the sitting).

Get the baby pools going! We are in the home stretch!