Officially Outnumbered!

Well, this post is a bit off topic from my usual discussions of play and play activities, but we are excited to announce the arrival of our newest playmate, a beautiful baby girl born this past Sunday afternoon at 4:33PM, weighing in at 6lbs, 11oz. And while we've been outsmarted from the start, Baby N officially makes us happily outnumbered parents! And since I love a good story, here's the story of her eager arrival...

We seem to have a Family Mold...

S, Version 1.0

Y, Version 2.0

Baby N--this girl is gonna need some spunk and a bow!

Netflix & Gestate: I think whatever you binge watch while pregnant translates into your labor and delivery experience. During my pregnancy with S, I binge watched Call the Midwife. The plot line of his labor was a bit slow to unfold, involved a lot of background details along with some setting and character development. The narrator (OB) had a soothing voice and stoic demeanor (he was a lawyer before entering medical school) and the last 15 minutes was utterly exhilarating! During pregnancy with Y, I binge watched Grey's Anatomy. Labor was text book. He arrived on his due date in the OR via c-section. I, however, was heavily medicated after 3 hours of trying to push his giant head out the other way while doing astonishing stunts and Yoga poses with a hand up me like a puppet. Quite clinical, lots of medical terminology and blue scrubs, but super thought provoking and inspiring. And once I finally got to hold him, he was totally McDreamy. With N, I went back to basics and binge watched Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, fully preparing myself to naturally deliver in the woods while in full colonial garb, perhaps using a feather from the hat of my scruffy husband to cut the cord. And while I did (barely) make it to the hospital from the woods, I also had a natural delivery and no epidural. My gown had a few less ruffles, my petticoats were disposable mesh (which is a good thing because I was fresh out of laundered petticoats at home) and I did cut the umbilical cord myself, but I used medical grade scissors and my midwife's name was not Sully, it was Laura.

A Girl Scout is Always Prepared but I dropped out of the Girl Scouts after the second grade and joined 4H... So we obviously knew we were expecting. (Anyone who's ever had contractions on a toilet must question those on shows like I Was Pregnant and I Didn't Know It who actually give birth on one...) But, we may have been a little sluggish on getting certain things ready. I mean, we bought a minivan. But we didn't replace the infant car seat. Or pack a hospital bag. Or have any clothes washed to pack in that proverbial hospital bag. And Pesach preparation and celebration kind of took over. And we had some babysitters lined up. For three weeks from now, around the due date. Two out of three were out of town for the holiday. And while most women nest in the end of pregnancy, I go waddling around the hardware store looking for DIY projects involving nails, wood and garden stakes. I pitch and write a few blog posts. I organize my teaching materials and sort my seeds. So...yeah... We had some running lists of things to do, food I might want at the hospital and afterward (being strictly Kosher and gluten free means we bring all of our own food from home). We sort of had a plan in place, and here's what actually happened...

Speaking of Planning... Having had two very differently sized babies previously, one natural delivery and one C-section, we knew we wanted to be a little more prepared for what to expect and how to proceed this time. We also like a little element of surprise, so we refrained from finding out the gender. I, however had a very strong feeling we were having a girl. So much so, that I would not have been angry or disappointed had things turned out the other way, but I would have been kind of upset I was wrong! (I love being right! I've been right three for three now.) We did, however, do an ultrasound last Thursday to get a sense of size and position. Baby was (not giant) head down and closer to S-sized than Y-sized. I talked to the OB and we planned, knowing that the threshold for waiting would be shorter, to try for a natural delivery. I had been cooking all morning to get ready for the second yomtov days of Pesach to begin at sundown that evening and having monster karate chop in the uterus contractions that subsided only when I turned the (filled only with soapy water) food processor on for 20 minutes to scare the boys out of the kitchen and ate half a Pesach cake by myself. I mentioned this to my doctor and she said "I'm fine with you going into labor tomorrow, you'll be 37 weeks and full term." I said, "tomorrow doesn't work for me, it's a holiday, but Saturday night would be fine." Then I made a plan to help a friend with something briefly on Saturday night and we went into the final days of the holiday.

Ok, OK, Just Get Outta Here! In the story of the Exodus we retell each year at Pesach, we recall that Pharoah and the Egyptians were given 10 plagues, 10 warnings before Pharoah finally consented to let the Jewish people go. So you'd think that meanwhile we'd be packing and preparing. You know, gathering our stuff and maybe baking some bread for the road? Our eventual plan, no matter how long it took, was to leave Mitzrayim, right? But, no! Instead, we busted out with only enough time to bake some crappy cracker from only flour and water because we didn't quite manage to head to the grocery store either for additional ingredients. We'd been pretty busy with some DIY projects and building stuff, you know... Similarly, we also hadn't quite made it to the grocery store post Pesach. We hadn't done laundry. I never packed a hospital bag and our suitcases were in the storage unit. And as I mentioned earlier, with no car seat we couldn't even come home from the hospital if we did end up going! So during those last two days of Pesach, when I woke up with those killer karate chop contractions again and again, I willed them off with threats, ultimatums and grape juice. I had plans on Saturday night, remember? I was also extremely sleepy. I took more naps in two days than I have in the last 2 years. But when Saturday came, I fulfilled my plans, came home and went to bed. At 2:30 my water broke. The same thing happened (even at the same time) when I went into labor with Y.
I went back to bed kind of paralyzed by my lack of planning and preparing. I did cancel my playgroup event scheduled for this week. I renewed my library materials. I mentioned the pending concern to my husband. He went back to bed. I decided to pack a bag. A very small bag. Because that's all we had a home and I had a very small amount of clean laundry including absolutely nothing for a baby. I willed those contractions to wait because I wanted to stay until morning. We needed to get a babysitter for the boys and that proved a little trickier than planned, so guess whose entire family got into the van and came to the hospital the next morning? And guess who held (very gently) her 4 year old's hand, walking to the entrance through a very strong contraction? And guess who is so religious now that she basically ate only pesachdik food for 2 extra days?

My kids are so literal. They take ultimatums very seriously. And when I said "Saturday night would be fine," she went for it. On Sunday morning, we all started together in the labor and delivery room. As much as I didn't plan for the boys to come along, I'm so glad they did. S and Y were a little scared and very excited. S had really wanted to see an ultrasound and hear the heartbeat and he finally got to. "It's so quiet!" he remarked when he heard the monitor. Then they started singing the Baby Shark Song. It was time for everyone to go home. Contractions were very sporadic but the midwife on call was comfortable letting me keep going without intervention as long as 24 hours to see if things would kick in naturally. I listened to music. I texted friends and family members and my husband. I walked. I bounced on the ball. I even did crunches on the ball, you know, to get my body beach ready...and get some contractions going.
Everything seemed to be moving along slowly at the hospital that morning. I overheard nutrition come deliver a grilled cheese and fries to the lady next door. I was jealous. Until I also overheard she'd been there for 2 days. TWO DAYS! And she was still in labor. (But she was also still eating grilled cheese and fries. Did I mention I'm jealous?) My husband was running around frantically trying to get things ready at home (including turning our kitchen back over, finding sitters, buying a car seat and helping with the boys...he's pretty good at multitasking). I had a great nurse helping and I was initially sad it wouldn't be my own OB on call, but the midwife was incredible. G-d really puts the people you need in the room with you in the room with you!

Plot Twist: And Guess Who Walked In Next? When I was in labor with Y, I had an incredible L&D nurse supporting me. She labored with me for all 12 hours of her shift. She had a million tricks to try up her sleeve and she held my hand when I cried after 3 hours of pushing and knew we'd need a C-Section. We waited one more hour after that for the OR to be ready and her shift was ending in 5 minutes. I thanked her and wished her well going home to her own then 18 month old. She'd made an intensely vulnerable experience one of the most empowering ones of my life. And then, as I was wheeled to the OR, she met me in the hallway, after her shift, scrubbed up and ready to join in off the clock. I had a thank you note for her and a gift I held on to for 2 years and was embarrassed to never have sent. When the door opened and my new L&D nurse walked in and said she'd had a change in her shift and a new nurse would be taking over, she apologized and added "but I think you'll like your new nurse--it's the same one who was there when your son was born!" I couldn't believe it! Two years and one week later, here we were again!

"Comfort" Measures During Labor Tuvia finally made it back before 3PM. Things were still slow. I have a lot of comfort measures that work for me during labor, but mostly I was feeling great, if not a bit bored. My nurse came to check in and I mentioned that three things seemed to bring on contractions for me. Being really hungry. Being really thirsty. And being suddenly stressed out. I'd already been hungry. I was so thirsty I was drinking like a fish. It was time for some stress. And it came! My husband got a call from home and our meat oven had inadvertently just become treif (unkosher); S was eating a cheese sandwich from it! So we currently had no oven at all. The dairy one was still in storage. We also had no food to cook, so that was pretty much a moot point. Did I mention I was hungry? I had such a craving for a grilled cheese and fries... I asked him to call a Rav and fix it. And also not to take anymore phone calls in the room. So, meanwhile, phone calls from a particular family member that he didn't take in the room started to come to the front desk with angry and embittered demands to know information on our status and the whereabouts of my husband. Aaaaand there it was. Stress. The contractions started to progress. I asked for an epidural and the nurse called anesthesiology. I needed a bag of saline for 15 minutes and then I could have my epidural. Meanwhile, I sent my husband out to call a certain family member, thinking we'd all be back together getting that epi-goodness in just a bit...

But... things went a lot faster than expected. And by a lot faster, I mean that in 15 minutes or so when the bewildered anesthesiologist came in with his magical cart of pain management, I had just enough space between pushing out my baby au natural and the next contraction to say "sorry 'bout that" and push again. And it was shocking. And I was tired. I'd felt oddly compelled all morning to listen to two songs by Vienna Teng on repeat: "Soon Love, Soon" and "Daughter," but now my mind was silent. The world was at once standing still and rushing by me. And the only thing that kept me going was to say "soon, so soon" with each push because I knew it was almost over and I'd hold my baby and be done.  And that Johnny Cash song "Ring of Fire" does not do justice to the Ring of Fire, but I hummed it in my head anyway. And then she was out. And she was a girl! And I was right! (Did I mention I love being right?) And I was done! And I didn't throw up! And I don't have to make a bris on the 8th day! And my experiences of labors and delivery and our family all felt so incredibly complete and whole.

It Wasn't How I Planned It, It Was Better We all know the saying "we plan, G-d laughs." I had a lot of plans about how this would go down. Some of them panned out. Some didn't. I couldn't have asked for anything better than what actually happened. I never felt strongly pro or against epidurals. I used them with my first two labors because it felt like the best option when labors were long and I got tired. I assumed I'd have one at some point with this labor and I didn't. It was so incredibly amazing to have that experience in my repertoire. I was never glued to delivering one way or the other. My hospital board had two items under the "goals" category: Healthy Baby and No Vomiting. I achieved both, thank G-d. (At one point my husband had to choose quickly between holding my hand and staying with me or leaving the room to get a bucket. Either way, if everything failed, he was going to have to wipe #2 off the board.) And everything happened as it was meant to. Everyone in the story was meant to be there. Every detail was just as it needed to be. There may have been a script and a plot line, but our Holy Babysitter is in charge of that. We just carry out the roles and lines down here. And I am so over the moon with our bundle of joy; we all are. Baby N's first same means "Comfort" and she truly lives up to it. Through a very uncomfortable pregnancy and a whirlwind of being so ready and not ready at all and through the settling of the dust at home and a roller coaster of emotions and hormones, she is Comfort. Her full name is after a great and inspiring Jewish leader and I have no doubt she will live up to that as well. She is already full of squish and spunk. Some pink and bows will be added in due time...

Welcome to the family, sweet girl. May you grow to Torah, to Chuppah and to Ma'asim Tovim (good deeds), and, of course, years and years of happy playing!