Stealing Time

Boy is Makili lucky. We're all lucky, in truth. My sister drove all the way from Mariposa to Oakland (4 hours) with four kids to see us on our six hour layover. We went to their hotel. Raph and Doug swam with the kids. We picked blackberries behind the hotel. We ate the free continental breakfast. It was awesome. Thank you.

Aloha Hawaii

We officially said aloha to Hawaii this week. Our last day wasn't that awesome. I had intended to stop by school one last time and say good bye to people there, to stop in Honokaa and look out over Waipio Valley, say hello to our doula, Shannon, to stop at our favorite beach on the Kona side. None of those things happened. (Goodbye Dara, Betty, Pahoa, Shannon, etc.)

We woke up a bit late on Thursday after being up with Makili most of the night. We cleaned and did our final packing. As I was cleaning up I found a pamphlet that my sister had given me about breastfeeding in the first two months. I had been feeling sore for a few days and read in the pamphlet that soreness after the first week or so isn't a good sign. Afraid that I would need medicine after leaving the island and wouldn't be able to get it, I called the doctor and asked to see him. They told me that I could come at 1:30 and wait for him to come back from surgery. So we headed to the doctor's office. In the meantime I noticed white spots on the inside of Makili's mouth and knew right away that he had thrush. I called the pediatrician's office and they offered to call in a prescription without even seeing him. My doctor, on the other hand, was detained in surgery. We waited for almost two hours only to have him to tell me that I didn't have thrush and that I looked fine. He told me that thrush is painless (which is bullshit) and that I shouldn't give the baby any medicine without seeing the pediatrician. Super upset, we headed for the pediatrician's office. After a tearful explanation as to why we showed up without an appointment, the pediatrician saw him. she looked in his mouth for a few seconds and said, "yup, that's thrush." I was pretty pissed off at my doctor, especially since he wouldn't prescribe the medicine that I need to keep from passing the thrush back and forth between the baby and myself. Luckily the pediatrician said I could use the baby's medicine on myself.

After all that, we sped to Kona and dropped off our overweight bags (having to pay extra for them.) We then left again to drop off the rental car and returned to checkin. We were a half hour early and almost missed the plane. (So much for our first chance at pre-boarding). Every single person was already on the plane and they were all waiting for us. We parted with Hawaii on less than awesome terms, but it was a great year.

Week 3

Week 3 (7-15-07)

Noisy. That would be a important word in describing Makili this week. Righ now, he is sitting on Raph’s lap making all kinds of noises, which of course prompts Raph to ask him all sorts of questions. I like this noise-making. It is wicked cute. At night, his noisiness isn’t quite as cute. While sleeping, he grunts, squeaks, snores, pants, puffs, squaks, occasionally screams (yes while sleeping). All of this would be fine if he wasn’t in our bed. I regularly sit up and prepare to nurse him, certain that he is awake. And I wait and wait and he continues noisily sleeping until I finally give up and go back to sleep. (Then sure enough half and hour later he is awake screaming.) During the day he oscillates between being a complete angel one day (thankfully often on days when we have lots to do) and a gassy terror who screams his head off on other days. I don’t think I really knew that newborns cried a lot. I don’t know how I missed this piece of information, but I’m hoping my friends without kids are taking note of this information. Anyway, it has gotten so much better than the first few days after we came home and we had no idea how to console him. Now we can at least communicate a bit. We’re getting to know him I guess. He does not like a dirty diaper for example. Really doesn’t like a dirty diaper. And he dirties a lot of diapers, so on some days the crying is pretty much a race between gas in his belly bothering him and pants full of crap making him uncomfortable.

Spastic. Having arms is a challenge for Makili sometimes. He has started throwing his arms above him head in little fists, giant stretches. Painfully cute. But then sometimes he misses and punches himself in the face, which really makes him mad. At times it is as though he watches his hands thrash around and it just pisses him off. Of course when he is really mad and screaming he grabs at his face, in an apparent attempt to rip him eyeballs out. We think it’s a bit overdramatic. So much so it actually makes us laugh a lot (and trim those tiny fingernails a lot.) His hands look so much bigger than they did just a few short weeks ago.

A car-lover already. While he doesn’t have a yard-full of priceless cars like his grandpa yet, the kid definitely likes the car. I can pretty much count on him being asleep between our house and our gate which is ½ mile away. Raph is starting to be willing to waste gas occasionally (never before!) just to keep him from screaming. (It usually doesn’t come to that). I’m pretty thankful since we have to drive the 45 minutes to Hilo often.

Ready for adventure. For those of you who don’t know, we are headed permanently (in whatever sense permanence and our lives fit together) to the mainland this Thursday. We don’t know exactly where we will reside this year, though the goal is to be closer to family and friends. We’re hoping Makili will live up to recent travel performances and handle it well, but I think he will. After all, he already misses his grandmas and grandpa. The last grandma left on Thursday and Raph and I have been on own since then. Aside from the fact that I’ve eaten a die primarily consisting of pie and pretzels since then, we’re doing pretty well. I’ll say it again: I can’t imagine doing this alone. I totally picked the right husband. Our stuff is almost packed and the house is getting clean day by day. I’ve greeted the sun almost every day since the moms left (thanks to Makili). Mentally I’m ready to say goodbye to Hawaii for now. I’m ready for family and friends and fall and the Eastern time zone and weddings and good vegetarian food and fireplaces and navigable woods and lakes and art.

Big. He already seems so much bigger than he used to.

open eyes

picnic to say goodbye

Raph's mom left this morning. We spend part of the day yesterday at Makenzie State Park where there is lots of shade and lots of ocean. The kid likes the coast already.

Week 2 (7-7-07)

Notes on Makili – Week 2 (July 7, 2007)

I’m watching the kid sleep right now and thinking how he already seems bigger and different than he did just two short weeks ago. He grunts and squeaks in his sleep and lets loose an occasional toot, which seems to allow him to relax. I wonder what he dreams about. His little brow knits itself and his tiny mouth wanders from tiny kisses to smiles, to silent open-mouth screams.

We went on our first walk together this morning in the sling that Cara Puff made for me. It worked great and he went to sleep immediately. I felt pregnant again with that little bundle against my belly. I wonder if he remembers the daily walks we went on when I was pregnant.

Makili started off the week giving his parents lots of sleep. He was sleeping up to seven hours at a stretch (though more commonly 4-5) and spending most of each day awake. In the last few days however he has returned to a more regular baby schedule with sleeping 2-3 hours at a time, which has meant a lot less sleep for us. I regularly fall asleep nursing him in bed. I’ve learned that if I can get him to latch on, I can then scoot back into an almost supine position while he nurses, allowing me to sleep. Pretty passive parenting. Sleeping less in long stretches has made the daytime a bit easier. He isn’t nearly as cranky now that he isn’t staying awake all day. His awake time is spent looking around eagerly checking out the world. This morning when he woke up at 4:15 and showed no signs of going back to sleep, Raph got up and entertained him for 2 hours. I was so grateful for some extra sleep. My mom says she has never seen a man as hands-on with a baby as Raph. I picked a winner.

Makili rolled over four times this week from his belly to his back. When Raph saw him do it the first time, I told him it was a fluke, but when I came in the room, he did it twice more. Then we tried to show our parents the next and sure enough, he performed admirably. What an advanced kid.

Makili’s cousin, Gabrielle, and his aunt, Laura, came to visit this week. Gabrielle at 5 months seemed huge compared to Makili. She’s a bundle of smiles and is very eager to touch or grab anything in sight. We tried to take pictures of the cousins together and Gabrielle reached out to grab crying Makili’s hand. His reflexes made him tear her hand off of him which made Gabrielle scream. Their first fight.

Makili got lots of love this week from my parents and Raph’s mom and Laura and Gabrielle. He returned the favor by making eyes and sleeping soundly in arms. It really is completely impossible to not fall in love with him when he is sleeping. It pains me. Seriously.

He still resembles Yoda at times, which I find cute as hell. Waking up he is. Go I must.

Internet Deprivation

My parents rented a house while they were here. Washer, dryer, oven, TV. Lots of luxuries. AND high speed internet. Thus all the pictures posted. Unfortunately, the luxury ends today and we return to solar power land and packing. (In case you didn't know we're headed to the mainland on the 19th.) So here a few more pictures and then we're cut off until we have time to stop by school next week. I appreciate all the postings from friends and family. Makili feels loved already (I know I do).

Post 100

My 100th post! The important men in my life. Good trip to Hilo today. He's been a good baby this week. Sleeping most of the night. More and more awake. I can't complain. It's been a good week.

attempts at family pictures

Today was a much better day. Raph, Makili and I ran errands this morning, which felt like an accomplishment. Makili was very good. I think he likes the car. He had several periods of wide glassy eyes today and my parents tried hard to get a "family picture." If Raph wouldn't try to eat the baby we might have more luck. I saw Makili cross his eyes today for the first time. He continues to be a very animated pooper. You can hear him launch the storm from across the room and nothing makes him happier than to fill another diaper.

cousin gabrielle

Makili and his Dad

Today was a tough day for little Makili. Not sure what is bothering him but its been a long day of crying. I think his belly is unhappy. Who knows? He slept for almost 8 hours last night (with a nursing break in the middle). Maybe that's just too much sleep for a newborn?

His little eye lashes unfurled yesterday like ferns, though they're blond and difficult to see. And he seems to have discovered kicking in the last day or so and kicks off of everything, which at times makes nursing a challenge.

I'm tired today and frustrated and hoping tomorrow he is easier, like yesterday. A day at a time.

Notes on Week One (An anniversary already!)

Notes on Makili – Week 1 (June 30, 2007)

We spent the first few days in the hospital, Makili, Raph and I. I was “a baby hog” as Raph put it, and didn’t like to share my baby. I would just stare at his little mouth and the funny faces that he would make as we slept. I did let Raph and the moms have some turns, but I honestly felt a void when he wasn’t in my arms. They took the baby from me twice a day to weigh and wash him, and to allow the pediatricians to look at him. I didn’t like this time one bit. And as soon as they wheeled him back into my room, I felt a giant sense of relief. I would want him immediately and he seemed already to know me, because as soon as he got into my arms, he seemed to let out a sigh of relief as well. I barely would let him out of my arms again to the point that he slept with me. I don’t know how so many other moms can just put their babies in the bassinets and go to sleep. It wasn’t so easy for me.

Raph and I didn’t sleep too much in the hospital. Raph, the poor thing, had to sleep on this awful pull-out chair that really wasn’t long enough for him. At best, I probably got no more than three hours sleep for five consecutive days. They provide these plastic bassinets so you can put them down to sleep, but I wouldn’t have it. I felt I needed to hold that little yoda-looking bug at every moment. And when I needed a nap, Raph would hold him, letting the kid suck on his fingers. I felt the most overwhelming sense of total love for that little boy in those first few days. Even now, it makes me cry to think of it.

Raph will probably never forget Makili’s first poop. Because of my incision, I didn’t get out of bed the first day in the hospital, though I felt virtually no pain, and recovered very quickly. Poor Raph, willing and wanting to be a great dad, was ready to change diapers. His first task ended up being a meconium-filled diaper, with poop everywhere. It took he and the doula a good 15 minutes, to wipe it off of Makili’s back and legs and thighs and feet. A huge brown/black tarry mess. These have become a lot more common lately, but that first one was a douzy.

In addition to sleeping, and cleaning up poop, we nursed A LOT, as the little boy came into the world with a big appetite. He would nurse constantly for a few hours, alternating between breasts, and then finally passing out for a few hours. Breastfeeding, I learned quickly, though instinctual, is difficult and requires full commitment. Makili definitely seemed born knowing how things worked and seemed somewhat disappointed that there weren’t breastloads of milk waiting for him. The little bits of colostrum didn’t seem to cut it.

Makili quickly established himself as a screamer. He would sleep sweetly, nurse avidly, and scream in any other interval. We worried in the first few days that he cried because he was gassy. Finally a nice nurse, Joann, convinced us that in fact he might just be hungry. That was a thought that had never crossed my mind. Just as I had assumed that I would have a natural birth, I had assumed that my body would provide adequate nutrition for the baby it grew. It was another shock to my system to consider that perhaps I couldn’t. We agreed to try a half ounce of formula to help fill his belly and see if it made a difference. ½ ounce of formula is not very much; it seemed like a few teaspoons. Yet he drank it with gusto and thereafter immediately passed out for three hours. It was clear there and then that I had been starving the little man, and I began impatiently waiting for my milk to come in and supplementing minimally with formula in the meantime.

Even though we supplemented a little with formula, not getting enough milk was trouble for Makili in the first few days, or at least they made us feel that way in the hospital. Babies are expected to lose weight in the first days after birth as they wait for their moms’ milk to come in. They have built in mechanisms to deal with this. They conserve water by having super-concentrated pees, called urates. This is normal, but when the system is not being flushed normally, jaundice can occur, which is exactly what happened to Makili. The last day before we left, he had a blood test done to check his bilirubin level, which is what causes jaundice. His level wasn’t dangerous they said, but it meant he would have to be checked again in Hilo the following day, which meant two 45-minute car rides with a four-day old screamer.

The initial ride home from the hospital was a turning point in Makili’s life. He seemed to open his eyes, really open his eyes for the first time. I put him into the car seat, and waited for him to either scream or sleep, but instead he just looked around. All the way home, he looked around, held on to my fingers, and finally dozed off. It was the first quiet alert period I had seen him experience. My breasts were happy for the break, and I was happy to know that Makili’s life awake could mean something other than nursing. When his little eyes locked with mine, it truly hurt me inside. The last few days “awake” have been a difficult time for little Makili. He has been sleeping for almost six hours straight at night (a small miracle we believe) but makes up for it with LONG periods of screaming during the day. It is pretty exhausting. Luckily, Raph’s thumb has made a really good pacifier, so you can’t complain about that.

Being a new mom is an emotional rollercoaster. One moment I’m happy and enthusiastic, then next I’m weepy and sad. Raph is a big help for me and I thank god often that I’m not doing this by myself. I recently read that Anne Lamott book, Operating Instructions, which was hilarious and lewd. I don’t know how you could do this on your own (like she did). I’m glad the moms are here and I don’t have to prepare food or do laundry. I just wouldn’t do it most likely. We’ll see how things go next week when we’re on our own again and have to move back to the mainland.

My sister-in-law, Laura, and her 5-month old baby, Gabrielle, came to visit from Japan today. It is amazing how big she is after five short months. Laura can’t believe how tiny Makili is. She says she is afraid to break him. Gabrielle can barely contain herself from grabbing Makili’s toes, which are her favorite things. She is all smiles, which makes Makili’s screaming all the more difficult.

The little guy is sleeping on the couch right now. After a particularly inconsolable afternoon yesterday, he was a complete angel last night. I told him I love him more when he doesn’t cry. Maybe that made a difference. He has been awake and alert most of the morning and looking around taking it all in. Painfully cute. Seriously it hurts.

I can't help it. At least I don't post them all!

Birth Story

We had been sitting around for weeks. I had had fantasies of the baby coming early – like before school ended so that I could miss some days of school. Then I thought the baby would come before the Raph’s mom, and things would be easy that way. Then when that plan didn’t pan out, I thought the baby was waiting for my mom. Then I hoped the baby would come by Thursday the 21st so that it would be a Gemini (I have lots of Gemini friends). But the baby didn’t cooperate so instead we sat around waiting – playing cards, eating, taking the moms out on adventures, walking, etc. Thursday afternoon we hiked to Kahena black sand beach which is about a half mile across uneven lava in each direction. We got there to find a busload of tourists gawking and giant rain clouds moving in. We left when the rain started and headed home to play some cards. Waiting had become our pastime.

Thursday night I woke up in the middle of the night and my belly was rock hard. It took me a second to realize – “oh I think this is a contraction.” It didn’t hurt or anything, but it got me a little excited because it was new. I told Raph the next day…”I think this baby is going to be born this weekend.” That night at dinner we all predicted when the baby would come. My mom said Saturday; Raph said the following Friday; I said Sunday; I forget what Ann said. (I won!)

On Friday night (June 22nd) I lay in bed, though I was wide awake. This was unusual for me because I’ve been going to bed really early since we’ve lived on solar power and even when I’m up later I wished I was asleep. I got up to go to the bathroom and had the sensation of squirting something out down there. I knew immediately that my water had broken and after a quick trip to the bathroom told Raph that we might have to go the hospital that night. Raph, the collected calm thinker that he is convinced me that perhaps we should wait until morning when I had gotten some sleep, and labor had had a chance to start.

After consulting the moms and my doula, we agreed to wait until morning and I headed to bed, with a towel between my legs. I really didn’t get much sleep. I was excited and nervous and all that stuff. Raph knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep so he convinced me to watch a movie (why Lethal Weapon 4 I’m not sure) and after that I got a few hours of sleep. At six I was up, packing the bags throwing all kinds of stuff in the car, not knowing what we’d really want or need. I called the doctor at 8:00 and learned that my doctor was not on call for the weekend and that I would have a different doctor. While I was initially disappointed, that turned out to be the best thing that could have happened.

We arrived at the hospital at about 10:00am. I was checked to be sure that indeed that the membranes had ruptured (they had indeed), had my cervical exam (I was only 1 cm dilated), and was put on the external fetal monitor to check on baby (he was fine and I was having contractions about 7 minutes apart). I was officially admitted and the waiting continued. We waited all day for labor to start (or pick up as the case may be). We wandered the hospital, walked up and down stairs (someone told us this would help with labor), watched a movie, stared at each other, etc. It was torture. I had to be on the monitor intermittently, but some of the nurses were nicer about that than others. Sitting in the uncomfortable bed on the monitor really wasn’t all that fun, but I really wanted to go to labor on my own. The doctor and I had agreed that if labor hadn’t begun in earnest on its own, then we would start the pitocin at midnight, as she wanted to see labor in action by morning. (There’s the 24-hour timeline you get after your water breaks.)

At about 10:00 pm I was trying to get some sleep, so that I could take a shower before we began the pitocin, which looked more and more necessary. Suddenly, the nice nurse that I’d had since 7 came in with a worried look on her face. She asked me to turn on my side because she said the baby’s heart rate had dropped. Other nurses came in. They put an oxygen mask on me and asked me to turn to the other side. They called the doctor. They seemed more and more frantic. They told Raph to pack up our stuff (implying we’d be having an emergency c-section). I was pretty calm. They asked me to turn over on my hands and knees. When I did that the baby’s heart rate slowly started to rise. The doctor showed up shortly thereafter. We watched the monitor for a long time; all the while I was on hands and knees, doing pelvic rocks, and wishing I could sit up.

After the baby’s heart rate had been stable for an hour, they started the pitocin, though with hesitation, afraid to stress the baby. The baby handled it fine, though, and I had the first contractions that were clearly discernible to me. They started the drip slowly, and I waited for the tough ones that I knew came with pitocin. But no. After a few hours, even those contractions that had come started to be farther and farther spaced from each other. I called in the nurse and asked her if should could turn up the pitocin, not wanting to wait any longer. It was a new nurse for me and she was condescending and mean. So I waited. I think that maybe the other nurse turned it up once or twice. The doctor came back at 6:00am and checked my cervix again. No progress. I was disappointed but not surprised. I didn’t feel like I had been working too hard. They turned up the pitocin and we waited some more. Contractions were now stronger and closer - 3-4 minutes apart – but I still didn’t feel like I was working too hard.

A new nurse came on at 7:00 am. She was mean too and she wore black scrubs, which outraged our hot hippie doula, Shannon. The mean nurse, Kate, asked me if I wanted her to up the pitocin since I wasn’t making much progress. “Yes,” I replied emphatically. So she did and soon we were in business. Almost immediately my contractions started to seem like real work. They hurt. They were coming about three minutes apart, some closer. Kate kept coming in and turning it up. I would panic when I saw her, afraid that she could turn it up again, which she did every time. I was hurting now. I couldn’t talk. I sometimes felt like I couldn’t breathe. Eventually I found the toilet. It felt good and relieved the back pain that I was having. I told Raph that when we have a house, I want that toilet. I knew the doctor was coming back between 12 and 1 so I sat on the toilet waiting. I fantasized about how far dilated I’d be after close to six hours of good contractions, with the final three hours being very tough.

At about 12:30 the doctor showed up. She checked me and broke my heart by telling me I wasn’t any farther dilated than I had been. I knew that meant I was having a c-section, and at that point I didn’t feel like I could have done things differently. I had waited. I had had a really nice doctor who let me try for as long as she felt it was safe to continue to wait. I had used the pitocin. The baby just wasn’t low enough. His head wasn’t pushing against the cervix, so even with heroic contractions, the cervix wasn’t opening. Still I cried. They tell you when you get a c-section that you didn’t fail, but it sure felt that way, and people react that way when you tell them. In fact, I don’t think that I’ve ever read a birth story other than from someone who had a c-section. Perhaps we feel we need to explain ourselves. In any case, I was upset, though resigned to what I knew now would be the course of action.

The C-section was pretty weird. The anesthesiologist was really great and really into his music. He’d get so excited about a Carol King song or an obscure Bob Dylan song. I was laid out with my arms out directly to my sides with a curtain in front of my face. I was calm and tried to be a detached as possible as they tugged on me and my legs oozed warmth from the spinal block. Raph sat next to my head and I could tell he was really nervous; he was quiet and seemed overwhelmed by the bright lights and loud voices. At one point the anesthesiologist asked him if he wanted to see what was happening. He looked over the curtain as they pulled Makili out. He said it was pretty scary - I looked like soup because my whole belly was covered with iodine and my insiders were just there, like chunks of vegetables and tofu.

As soon as the baby was out, I could hear the pediatrician oohing and aahing over how beautiful he was, how he had his mom’s auburn hair. The people in the room commented on how big he was (8 pounds) and what a screamer he was (I haven’t stopped hearing that since he was born.) Raph left me and went with the baby and soon came back with Makili to my head so I could see him. His little hands looked like they had soaked in the tub for a long time (like nine months) and I noticed the little white dots on his nose. They said this was like a rash or something. (My mom said that we were born with them on our cheeks, and she used to say we looked like little fawns.)

Soon Raph and the baby left to do the things they do to new babies – prod them, bathe them, weigh them, etc. I lay on the table listening to Patsy Kline, not knowing what to think. After a short period of shivers in the recovery room as the feeling crawled back into my body from my spine, I was taken back to my room to see my baby and Raph. I was glad to see them, to be done. I was glad to hold Makili, who already seemed too big to have been inside me, and seemed to know me better than I knew him. Raph seemed relieved to have me back, not looking like soup.