She's here

We had a baby -- a girl -- at 9:12 a.m. Friday.
The day started a bit earlier than that, though.
We had to be at the hospital by 6:30 a.m. so Anni could be prepped for the c-section. The docs and nurses were great in explaining the procedure to us before surgery. They gave me a sneak peek at the operating room before Anni went in and I got my marching orders.
"You'll walk in and go right to the head of the operating table," a nurse said. "You'll stand there for the entire delivery. Oh, and you won't touch anything." (Really? Because I was hoping to lend a hand.)
It really is true that dads just get in the way during pre-delivery and delivery. Everywhere I stood, a nurse needed to be. I'd move to a corner of the pre-surgery room, thinking I'd be out of the way, but a nurse would need something. I'd move somewhere else, but the nurse would find something else she needed.
Finally, I just sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, armed myself with two cameras and started shooting photos of Anni before the surgery.
They rolled Anni in at about 8:30 a.m. and gave her a "spinal," numbing her from chest down. (I had two stiff drinks at home the night before and they worked just as well and did not require a shot in the back.) Her doc, who has seen her for nine months and insisted on doing the c-section, actually sat at her side and chatted with her while waiting for the drugs to kick in.
Great bedside manner? Check.
I was pretty sure they had forgotten about me because after about 15 or 20 minutes I could hear the docs finish scrubbing their hands and walk into the operating room. Meanwhile, I was still in the pre-surgery room waiting for an escort into the operating room.
Eventually, a nurse brought me in. I did as told, walking right to the head of the bed. Anni was awake and alert, but obviously blocked from viewing the procedure.
From my angle, I could see the docs using knives and scissors and pulling tools and suction tubes and their hands. From under the blue curtain, Anni only could see a doctor's shadow.
"It's like my own puppet show," she said. I would say that was the medication talking, but she digs puppet shows.
After about 10 minutes, I watched as one of the doctors lifted the baby out of Anni's belly. The baby seemed a little too blue right away, making me a little nervous, but within moments it let out a small cry. The doc held up the baby and I just stared. It was all very surreal -- a baby being held in mid-air while doctors and nurses scurried around in the background. It was so surreal, in fact, that I almost forgot to tell Anni the baby was delivered.
We decided that since Anni would not be able to see the baby the moment it was delivered, I would tell her the sex, rather than having the nurses blurt it out.
"We have a girl," I said simply.
They put the baby under the warmer to clean her and check vitals. Thinking about it now, I would have preferred they just wrapped her up and set her on Anni's chest and delayed the vital check.
I stood next to the warmer, staring at a baby just minutes old. There she was. Out of the belly. Two arms. Two legs -- lanky legs. A 21-inch-long body. Full fingernails. Long toes. Eyes that peeked earlier than I thought they would. A head of dark brown hair. A healthy cry.
Anni had to wait several minutes before she got to spend some time with the baby, but she could hear her and she was aware of what was going on.
A nurse weighed the baby and told me she was 9 pounds, 5 ounces.
"Anni, she's nine pounds, five ounces," I said.
"Nine pounds, five ounces? Holy shit," was Anni's response from across the room. I would say that was the medication talking...
They wrapped up the baby and I brought her over for Anni to see. We sat down at the head of the operating table and eventually a doc helped put the baby on Anni's chest.

We discussed names a bit more. We had narrowed down the first name to either Julia or Elise. When it came down to it, though, this girl was an Elise. We settled on that.
Before heading up to the nursery for some blood-sugar tests (It started low, but climbed to normal levels after a little sugar water.) I stepped out into a waiting area and let the family know all was well -- but did not tell them whether it was a boy or girl. Anni wanted to do that and I selfishly relished the fact that for a short time, only Anni and I knew we had a girl.

As the baby and I went to the nursery, Anni was getting stitched up. About a half-hour later, we went downstairs and met Anni in a recovery room, where a nice nurse took the first "family photo." Being picky about pictures, I made the nurse feel bad when I looked at the photo she took and said: "That's fine. We can take another later." I just meant that it would work as an early snapshot and that we would get more taken once we get to Anni's patient room. She took it to mean that her photo was garbage. You decide.

Anni recovered quickly from the anesthesia. Before long we were getting situated in her patient room. Little Elise Louise (Louise is Anni's and her mother's middle name) was cute from the very beginning. No wrinkly old man. No scrunched face. No screaming. She slept for much of the day, even as she was passed from one set of grandparents to the other before being coddled by other relatives.


The day flew by and it was overwhelming. Exhausting, too. But there we were, new parents to a healthy baby girl.

It was a good feeling -- especially because I had not yet changed her diaper.

Welcome

Elise Louise Wente

Born: 9:12 a.m. March 6
Weight: 9 lbs 5 oz
Length: 21 inches

3.6.9

No, that's not my e-mail password. That's when we expect Bun to arrive.
We just got back from the doctor's office. No major surprises this time, but we did have to decide how to get this baby out.
The doctor said Anni was not dilated and the baby is not positioned as though it's ready to come out on its own. Since Anni's at about 42 weeks, the doctor said the two options are induction and C-section. He explained both scenarios again, but also said that due to the narrow pelvic bone, natural birth would be unlikely.
We opted for a C-section, which means Anni will not have to go through hours and hours of induction and painful exams -- only to find out a C-section will be needed after all. It is scheduled for early Friday. Anni's doctor will do the surgery himself, which is something we were hoping for.
It was not the easiest decision we have made, but thankfully we're still looking at nothing unusual.
The baby's heart rate was fine. The doctor predicts it will weigh between 8 lbs. and 8 1/2 lbs. Anni's belly was 43 cm, meaning it grew 3 cm in the past week.
"It's not a tiny baby," the doctor said.
So, we're expecting Friday to be the day and looking forward to it.
We'll keep you posted.

'You're still here?'

Here's a gentle suggestion for anybody who works with someone very pregnant and past her due date: If she shows up for work, still carrying a baby, don't keep asking her, "You're still here?"
Anni's been getting plenty of that in the past week as she continues to work while awaiting the onset of labor, whether it be contractions or any other sign that Bun is even thinking about making an exit.
We'll get a better idea of when this baby's coming after a doctor's appointment this afternoon. Anni either will be induced beginning tonight or will go in for a C-section Friday. Or, perhaps, there will be a new twist.
I'll update the blog when we get a better idea of what's happening the next few days.
In the meantime, Anni's headed to work this morning, where she no doubt will hear:
"You're still here?"

A mixed bag and a March baby

Consider this scenario: You're huddled inside, comfortable, warm, cozy and constantly fed. Outside, it's cold and unpredictable, and you're unaware that there is a bunch of people, two in particular, who are ready to shepherd you through that dicey world.
Why would you want to leave that safe surround?
When you think of it that way, it makes sense why Bun is, shall we say, reluctant to make its exit -- or entrance, depending on how you look at it.
We've passed the due date -- that was Tuesday or Friday, the doc's not sure -- with no sign of imminent labor and delivery. Anni had an appointment Thursday, when we got good news and some surprising news.
Bun was active and kicking, with a heart rate of 140. The doc still is predicting a birth weight of 7 1/2 lbs to 8 1/2 lbs.
Anni was not dilated, though, and after an exam the doc said it seems she has a smaller-than-normal pelvic structure. Now, in most cases, that would be considered a good thing.
Think about it. Who really wants to hear: "You have a huge pelvis and our only concern is keeping that baby from sliding out without you realizing it."
The hiccup with a small pelvis, of course, is that it can be difficult for the baby to make it through the birth canal. (Think about pushing a golf ball through a garden house.)
The doc, who explained this very well, knowing it caught Anni completely off guard, said it is possible she will not be able to have a natural birth and that a C-section may be the best option.
That's not a done deal, however, as the doctor said he's been surprised before by women who have small pelvic bones but still pop a baby out the natural way.
So, here's where we're at. If Anni doesn't go into labor before Wednesday, we'll meet with the doctor. There likely are two scenarios at that point. One would be to induce labor, probably Wednesday evening or Thursday morning, and try for a vaginal delivery with the hope that the pelvic bones will give way. The other scenario would be to head in to the hospital planning for a C-section on Friday.
So as you can imagine, we've been doing more research than we expected to be doing at this point.
Anni has some concerns about inducing for a natural birth without knowing if that is possible, but a C-section certainly has its own pros and cons.
A lot to think about, but the bottom line still is this: Mom and baby appear perfectly healthy and even with the pelvic issue, the doctor still is not suggesting that Bun's delivery will have any unusually painful or dangerous complications.
So, we wait.

Today's the day. Maybe.

It's Feb. 24, Anni's due date.
Any sign of imminent labor and delivery? No, but that could change at any moment, or it could take several more days.
Are we ready? Well, as ready as we can be without actually being ready. Who's really ready for their first, anyway?
The other day we got an indication that it's a few days off. I put my hand on the belly and said, "Are you coming today?" Nothing.
"Are you coming on Monday?" Nothing.
"Are you coming on Tuesday?" Nothing.
"Are you coming on Wednesday?" Nothing.
"How about Thursday? Are you coming Thursday?" Kick-kick.
"Thursday? You're coming Thursday?" Kick.
I guess that's as good a sign as any.
Stay tuned...

Do they make these for adults?

I have no idea what this is called, but Anni said I can put the baby in it while I'm ... washing dishes.
All I know is that it was easier to assemble with that bowl of ice cream in the background.

39 and 1

That's where we're at -- 39 weeks and 1 day.
It was back to the doctor this morning for a check-up -- possibly the last one.
Mama's doing fine -- blood pressure's normal, belly's at 40 cm. And her attitude? Just as you'd expect. At 8 a.m., she was crackin' jokes and making the nurse burst out laughing. She suggested they put posters on the ceiling above the exam table so women would have something to look at during exams. ("At least put up one of those posters with the kitten hanging from a tree limb and saying, 'Hang in there,'" she suggested.)
Anyway, Bun's doing just fine. At first, the doc had a hard time finding the heart beat, which got us both a little anxious, but then he found it and Bun gave me a little kick at the same time. That was reassuring. The heart rate was about 130.
Anni's next appointment is Thursday, but her due date is Tuesday.
"So I'll see you next week -- or maybe not," the doc said.

Couldn't resist. It's Valentine's Day, after all.

The final stretch -- and hiccups

We're in the window now.
They say to prepare for delivery anytime two weeks before to a week after the due date. In our case, the due date's Feb. 24, so we're well within that three week window.
And the hiccups came just in time. People have asked if Bun has had the hiccups. I think it did tonight, for the first time. Rhythmic, sudden bumps on the belly. Pretty funny, actually.
Anni's doing weekly check-ups now. She went to the doc the other day. In one week the belly went from 37 cm to 40 cm, which was quite a jump. I'm curious how much growth happens in the final days.
Bun's heart rate was 127, lower than it has been at previous visits but still normal.
My heart rate was racing the other day, however, when I opened the box containing the car seat/stroller and thought the contraption was going to require hours of tedious assembly. It wasn't too difficult, but I've got this extra bolt from the stroller...
So now we've got a car seat waiting for an occupant on the living room floor, a stack of diapers in the bedroom, a crib fitted with a new mattress pad, some nice bottles in the kitchen and my new toy, a digital SLR camera. That's all you need for a newborn, right?
Actually, Anni's been doing a good job stocking up on everything she thinks we'll need in those first few days at home. We'd be stuck with nothing but diapers, formula and wipes if I were heading up the procurement efforts.

Week 38

37 and 7

What's 37 weeks along and predicted to be a healthy 7 lbs 6 oz? That'd be Bun.
Anni had another check-up this morning. Everything's looking good, the doctor said.
Baby's heart rate was 137. Anni's belly is 37 cm.
Having any problems, the doctor asked.
"No," Anni said.
"It's really been kind of an unremarkable pregnancy," the doctor said.
Thankfully, it has.
So the doctor predicted that based on how the pregnancy has progressed, the size of Anni's belly at this stage and maybe a wee-bit of guessing, the baby will be born 7 lbs 6 oz.
Oh, and he said his hunch is that it's a boy.
I wondered whether that was based on anything.
"Nah, but I've got a 50-50 shot," he said.

Delivered through duct work

I neglected to post about our recent birthing class experience. It definitely wasn't for lack of material.
People told us ahead of time that they had found the pre-birth class for first-time parents worthless, full of info they didn't ever use.
To my surprise, that wasn't our experience. For the reporter, lots of questions were answered over two days. Many were practical or logistical -- like "Where do we go at the hospital?" and "How much say do parents really have in what the doctor does?" -- but it's all useful. For the mother, much of her anxiety about labor and delivery was alleviated by learning more about it, asking questions and listening to our instructor.
Of course, it wasn't just a buttoned-up baby briefing. You can't go several hours with 14 strangers -- who have the same questions and concerns but different backgrounds -- and not walk away somewhat amused by the whole experience.
Some of us had not thought much about the actual process of labor -- that would be the guys. Others had. One woman said that when she goes into labor she would prefer to snuggle with "animals or loved ones." Yes, animals -- plural. (Nobody had the gall to tell her this is a hospital, not a kennel.)
Even for a "drive-thru" delivery class -- we could have taken a six-week course -- there was a lot of information to digest.
At times, there was too much information. One mom-to-be works on the hospital's NICU floor. She came to the class with knowledge of just about everything that can go wrong in birth -- and decided it was Show and Tell Day. We had to hear about each of those obscure and traumatic scenarios in medical acronym-laced outbursts. The instructor, to her credit and our appreciation, put those Tales of Delivery Horror in perspective, given that in most cases things go just fine.
What's a class without props? We had plenty. The instructor held up a pelvic skeleton as she talked about the baby's positioning, etc. Then, she dug out some duct work and shoved it into the pelvic skeleton to complete the rudimentary but effective visual of a birthing canal.
However, I'm sure someone left that class thinking the birthing canal looks just like the elbow joints attached to a furnace.
Another prop made me think of a question, but I did not ask the question in order to spare Anni the embarrassment of having to sit next to the guy who asked the "What's life mean?"-type of unanswerable question.
See, the instructor's uterus prop was a large sock-like, stitched tube. She discussed the actual reason behind the need to "push" the baby out, that the cervix basically needs to be forced open.
So my question was: In human reproduction, every body part has a role and usually carries out that role on its own -- except for the cervix. The cervix seems lazy. I wondered why, after thousands of years of evolution, the cervix has not learned to "push" itself when the time is right. Why isn't there a hormone that's triggered to carry out that task when there seems to be a hormone for every other step of child-rearing?
I left without an answer.
Maybe that's the kind of topic delved into during the six-week class.

Haikus for Bun, 'cuz why not?

Bun's growing bigger
The belly keeps expanding
Soon so will with fam'

Mom supposed to crave
Fruit and veggies on her mind
The chocolate's Dad's

Baby stuff on porch
Must be brought in within weeks
Outdoor cribs frowned on

Bun's one for nighttime
Moving and shaking at dusk
Rumbles in belly

A house sans diapers
You say changing them not bad
Then first blowout's yours

Parenting seems neat
Easy to say when not one
Where is the guide book?

Dad's used to children
Whine and bicker all day long
These born 'lection day

Sweet little baby
Excitement trumps nervousness
Get sleep while you can

Wife's very pregnant
Tells me next time it's your turn
Epidural now

Nesting and nest building

I might as well come right out with it: We've been nesting as frenetically as squirrels store nuts when greeted by the first fall frost.
I had heard about the whole nesting phenomenon, of course, but now I understand it. And I see how expectant parents are hard-wired to nest in anticipation of a child's arrival.
There's the practical, logical stuff. You know, hunkering down, getting ready, making lists both mental and written, deciding what's left to do.
Stockpiling meals is part of that. We decided that we -- well, mostly Anni -- would make those first few weeks and months of parenting a bit easier by stashing home-cooked meals in our freezer. They will serve as a quick meal after a long day, a dinner in a pinch, a bite to eat in between a diaper change and a feeding.
So, to her credit, Anni's been churning out batches of soup and other easy-freeze items. She's split recipes, putting portions on our dinner plates and the rest in the freezer. I have a grand plan -- it's on one of those lists mentioned earlier -- to whip up a few of my favorite recipes and freeze them as well. (Although, when Anni asked to hear those items, I could only think of two.)
Anyway, nesting certainly isn't limited to food prep. Anni's going to take a few days off soon to get things ready around the house, tie up loose ends, take care of everything I haven't thought of and hopefully get some much-deserved time to relax.
There are other nesting tasks. Thanks to Laura and Jim, we've got a crib and a dresser/changing table to assemble and locate. I decided we should reorganize kitchen cupboards and dedicate one cupboard or drawer to baby stuff. We need to make room in the bathroom closet for other baby stuff. I walk around the house now thinking, “That cabinet's going to need to be baby-proofed sometime,” “I wonder on which side of the table we'll put the high chair,” and “Soon I'll have to stop leaving tools on the floor, especially the sharp ones.”
---
So there's the practical elements of nesting. But then there are the not-so-practical, maybe even irrational, nesting habits. What's on that list? Well, it includes cleaning things I haven't cleaned in months, if ever, for no other reason than I think that given the coming events I won't get around to cleaning those things again for months or longer. (Next up are those wooden grates on the cold-air return ducts. The ones nobody notices.)
Another item on the list? Packing overnight bags and a small cooler to bring to the hospital. Pack clothes? Maybe. Pack crackers and sodas at this point? That can wait.
---
There's nest building under way, too. I'd post a photo of the progress I've made on the remodeling upstairs, but you'd question my use of the word "progress." Perhaps I'll wait until it's insulated to provide another photo update. (No, it's not insulated yet. Yes, I know it's January.)
Still, progress is being made. For instance, the ceiling is reinforced, the closets larger, the walls sturdier. And I'm looking forward to when Anni can stack her children's books on the built-in bookshelf I'm attempting to build in the nursery.
The nest building continues. It's enjoyable work.
---
The irony in nesting, though, is that it is peripheral preparation.
For instance, we'll have a place to change diapers, but when it comes time to change that first diaper, will I know what to do? Maybe. (Just recently I learned of the term "blowout.")
We'll have baby food stocked, but do I know how frequently a baby needs to be fed and what's best for a baby's diet? Nope. (How soon can it eat ice cream with Dad?)
We've got a kit of medical stuff for newborns, but do I know how to detect an infant ear infection? Nope.
We know where the baby will be delivered, but do I know what I'm going to do the moment the nest expands from two occupants to three? Nope.
I hope that just as the hard-wired nesting instincts kicked in, whatever child-rearing intuition I have will do the same.

By the numbers

Anni had a doctor's appointment today -- I guess a 35-week, 6-day check-up.
The appointments are occurring frequently -- another sign we're getting closer. She's got another one in two weeks and after that it's once a week.
In summary, all's well.
In detail, the doc said everything appears as it should be at this point. Anni's blood pressure's just fine and her belly has grown about 37 cm. I was expecting some high-tech measuring system. There isn't one. I could have brought a tape measure from home and it would have worked just as well as the doctor's tape.
"You've gotten bigger," the doc said, looking at Anni's belly, "but not too big."
She liked the last part of that observation.
We heard Bun's heartbeat, which, while it's not a new sound anymore, it still sounds good. And, for those of you still trying to predict the gender -- I gave up weeks ago -- this could challenge your old wives' tale: Bun's heart rate was 153.
"That's going to throw everybody off because it's been so low," Anni said.
Remember, the heart rate was 137 at the last check-up.
We've been talking lately about the due date -- we thought it was Feb. 27, but the clinic's records show Feb. 24 -- and reminding ourselves it's only an estimate. The doc said that based on all the signs -- belly size, weight gain and maybe even a shake of the Magic 8 ball -- he thinks Anni's on pace to deliver right around the due date.
So, if that's the case, she could deliver on Feb. 24 and, a day later, we'll celebrate our wedding anniversary over a nice hospital meal of chicken and Jell-O.
It won't taste like we're eating at a nice restaurant, but I'll bet the prices are the same.

Call me Coach

Next weekend we sharpen our pencils, get our textbooks and head to class.
Actually, I think Anni will be encouraged to wear comfortable clothing and I'll prepare to breathe.
We enrolled in a birthing class at the hospital. The doctor suggested it and while I've talked to a few parents lately who say the class was useless, I figure it can't hurt. (It's also the hospital's first dip into our pocketbook. You'd think this would be a package deal -- classes, delivery, medical booties, etc. Nope.)
Because of my unpredictable schedule, we decided to do the "drive-thru" class -- Friday evening and most of Saturday.
"Is 8 1/2 hours enough time to learn how to be a parent?" I asked Anni.

Beer belly 2.0

Gotta rest that root beer float somewhere...

Bottom's up

Anni had a check-up today. Everything looks good. Upside down, but good.
The doc put her at 33 weeks, 6 days. That's about where we thought she was, but when you hear that -- no, when I hear that -- things start to sink in. We're only about seven weeks away. The doc reminded Anni she could deliver up to two weeks before or two weeks after the Feb. 27 delivery date.
Hearing that, I started counting backward. Let's see, two weeks earlier, well, that's about Feb. 13, and that's, well, that's only about a month and a week away and, well, heck, that's only about five weekends away and, well, SAY WHAT?!
It's just as likely she'll be two weeks late, which I'd favor. Of course, I can still see my belly button when I look down, so easy for me to say.
Anni told the doc that she was born a month late. Yes, a month. (Photos of her that I've seen show a cute baby with a full head a full head of hair and maybe, just maybe, a full set of teeth.)
"That can cause problems," the doctor said of the the extra 30 days of incubation.
"Well, I turned out OK -- I think," Anni replied.
Everything seems to be hummin' right along inside that ever-expanding belly, though. (Yes, "hummin' right along" is a medical term.) Bun's heart rate clocked in at 138. As I've said before, that's an indication of nothing but a steady, healthy ticker. Don't give me that old wives' tale about gender.
We've been wondering how Bun is positioned, and today the doc said it's now head down, legs up. That explains why Anni's been getting booted in the ribs more often.
I take Bun's positioning to be another sign that the birth is getting closer. You know, now the baby's facing in the right direction, getting lined up.
The delivery is no longer some distant event months and months down the road.
Bun is bottom's up and on the way.

Here's a name

We're still struggling with names.
I told Anni I had a new one we should consider. It's a bit unconventional, but I thought of it because of what I'm spending all my time on at work. The name is ... Ballot.
Think about that. Ballot could be a boy or a girl.
Not a good idea? Well, OK.