Owen, O'When Will You Get Here?

I just finally read through the midwives' notes from Owen's birth. What a time we had. Every time I look at him, I think "What a precious thing," and "Ohwow," and "I love you so so much," and I also think, "I am so glad you are out of my body." It was not an easy trip.

In summary, it was long. My stubborn cervix decided this day was a good one to be in the anterior position, so although I was at 5 cm and 90% effaced at 9 in the morning, he didn't make it out to greet us until eleven hours later.

I wrote out some of the details below, should that be of interest to you. (And also because, I might not remember otherwise.)

----

Contractions started at dinner on Tuesday night, continued abnormally all night, and through Wednesday. We went on a couple of walks, and tried at least one other trick, but they never picked up steam. Finally, around 10 that night, they started getting stronger and closer together.

Our midwife Emmy and her apprentice Hailey came over just before midnight. Throughout the dark hours, we listened to music and I got through contractions in a variety pack of positions: hands and knees, swaying side to side, doing alternating lunges.... Then the sun was coming up. Oh my god the sun was coming up! We were going to be done by now, I thought. The neighborhood chickens were crowing.

Stefin held my hand as I walked up and down the front steps at five a.m. to continue to coax my cervix to a more posterior position. Through all of this, I kept thinking, "This will end. It will be out by nine, then you can rest" then, "by lunch time," then, it was midday. I managed to take about a 30 minute nap. I sat on the birth stool, took probably 3 baths and 4 showers... laid on my side with one leg stretching over the side of the bed... squatting, kneeling, lots of drinking of coconut water and smoothies... It has to be here before my parents get here; at least it will be here by the time my parents get here. They were scheduled to arrive at MSY at 4:45. Five o'clock came. We asked Josh and Nico to take my parents out to dinner.

I alternated more positions, groaning and moaning and starting to cry about being so tired. At one point they threw a long scarf in the doorway and grabbed on with both arms to let my body hang... Stefin suggested we ask my mom to come. We did, and she arrived just before 6. I think I exhaled, "Hi," but probably barely even smiled. I was keeping my eyes nearly closed most of the time. Stefin says I was focused. I was also just too tired to worry about being rude.

The support team took turns pushing hard on my hips during contractions, which, when done strongly and in the right place, probably took about 60% of the worst pain away.

But they just kept coming- sometimes a minute apart, sometimes one literally right after the other. More lunges, hands and knees... I finally said, "I don't know if I can do anymore!" The team assured me I could, and that we were getting closer indeed. At one point I asked Stefin, "It will end, right?" I honestly wasn't sure anymore.

At 7:50, we got into the shower again, and I had my first urges to push.
At 8:00, they checked me and I was at 7cm and, dun-dun-duh-duuuuhh: My cervix had made it to the right position! Good job, little donut. Baby's head was at the "0" station which means we were well on our way.
At 8:45 they had me sit on Stefin's knees while he sat on a chair, hugging me tightly to help keep me upright. I think they were urging me to slow down or be more gentle with my pushes, but by this point I was of the let's-get-this-thing-the-F-out-of-there state of mind. My mom was holding the flashlight, she told me she could see it. (What they actually saw first was the 'bag of waters'- the amniotic sac- still around the baby's head, which is pretty special and rare.) Then the midwife swiped her finger to break the BOW, and they all gasped. "All that hair!" I think they had me reach down and touch at that point. The pain wasn't that big a deal anymore, I was so, so relieved.

He came out quick. I noted his tiny penis as they handed him up to me, already crying, eyelids swollen and bright red. My dad took pictures with his flip phone. They helped me to the bed and a gentle push expelled the placenta. Then there was some blood, and splattering. Some shots in my leg to slow it and some other painful things. (The apprentice said later it was the messiest birth she'd yet attended.) I was not worried in the slightest. I was done with the hardest part. And I couldn't just decide to stop bleeding. It was out of my control. And I had my baby. I was done.

Bleeding slowed, cuddling got real serious. The midwives poked and prodded my abdomen to make sure my uterus was shrinking as it should, and did a few more uncomfortable things (sutures!). My legs were shaking from exhaustion.

Owen latched really quickly, and Aeli got to come meet his little brother. His eyes were big, round, glowing. His smile spread wide and he tilted his head down slightly like when he's feeling shy.

"Hi Lovebug," I said, "Wanna come meet your little brother?"

"This is Owen," Stefin said, helping Aeli up onto the bed. 

A looked down at the new baby, moving delicately, smiling, eyes curious. I waited to hear "He's so small," or "Hello, Baby..." but his first comment was: "He sounds like a donkey! 'Hee-haw, hee-haw!'" A rather astute observation, as Owen was snorting quite rhythmically while nursing.

"I'll wait to hold him until tomorrow, when he's not drinking." Aeli announced, gallantly. Big brotherhood had begun.

The first night of sleep with both my boys was such a funny thing. In the 24 hours leading up to that period of rest, sleeping deeply was the most decadent and desirable thing I could imagine. But then, when finally given the chance, you also have this new little human snuggled up beside you! I woke up many times, just smiling and staring. That face! Those fingers! An indescribable urge to protect him.

So grateful for this new life, and our lives together.

-And now we are four.-

A New Mango

Hopefully this is not a glimpse into the future of our protruding parts- but it probably is.

Aeli is gearing up to be a big brother. He is thrilled, and gives copious kisses and hugs to my ever-rounding belly. He has dubbed the baby "Whatchama," which we first thought was just a fabulous combination of syllables, but we recently learned to be short for "Whatchamacallit."

Portrait of a Difficult Morning

Did you even know this blog still existed? Thank you, internet, for not getting dusty. 'Cause geez it's been a long time.

But here we are now, or here I am: on the internet, with an Arnold Palmer, home earlier than almost ever from work, and I have something to post here! 

Cravernak Holiday Poem 2013

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the city

Folks stapled lights onto siding to make houses look pretty.

Aeli’s sinuses didn’t like the jarring changes of weather,

So he sniffled and snuggled while his mom tried to get it together.

Balloons were strewn everywhere: wreckage from the weekend’s fete,

Laundry perpetually unfolded; cards not addressed yet.

Carrie paced the house, which was a shotgun,

And took inventory of the things to be done.

Having assessed the mess, and written down the to-dos,

She decided to lay down with A, and have a good snooze.

When she awoke, she decided, she’d feel a lot better,

And finally write the fam’s Christmas letter.

Wait though, should the epistle’s label be one-denominational?

No: Christhanksgivvukah + Solstice + Birthday Celebrational.

Here is the news in this fun month of festivus,

Mostly about Aeli, but a little re: the rest of us.

You might recall a snug little trooper,

Who crawled and then walked and never was a party-pooper,

He’s still all that, but gee-whiz has he grown,

He even goes potty (almost) completely on his own.

He speaks in full sentences, writes and reads most letters,

He’s good at throwing and catching, and always getting better,

He’s got a penchant for puzzles, and baseball, and art,

And a sense of humor that leads to lots of laughs about farts.

Stefin and Carrie are still pretending to be grown-ups,

And bought a house this year, although it feels like they don’t know enough

About plaster and foundation and old plumbing glitches,

Thank goodness for experienced friends, who help with some fixes.

Here’s a fact to nerd out on, in a “This Old House” type of way:

The main water line to our house was made out of clay!

Apparently this is how they did it back in the day,

And our house is quite old. (We replaced the line.) Yay!

The pretend grown-ups are still teaching, still working in schools.

Although they often wonder if they really need so many rules,

They are grateful for their work and for being employed,

And working with kids, even teens- most days- does bring them joy.

Travels this year included Seattle, San Diego, Israel;

Dances were choreographed and performed to Yelle;

Friends moved and moved back, fought fires, told stories,

Designed, skied, and had babies, and were never an ounce boring.

We are so grateful to have all that we do,

Not least of all, the honor of knowing YOU!

We hope you can come visit us in our new home.

(And thank you for reading this very-long poem).

What Thanksgiving Prep Looks Like Chez Nous

Aeli helped me make the cranberry-apple sauce to go with latkes and turkey!

Evidence of his internship with Auntie Nico, expert practitioner of stopping to smell and pick a flower while walking.

What do you call the middle of a grandma sandwich? Spoiled rotten.

New Orleans was COLD on Thanksgiving (read: I saw my breath in our bathroom), so fortunately A had his awesome jacket to keep him warm.

Also, I know you've been wondering: What have those Cravernaks been crafting lately?
Mostly food, but a few other things here and there.

It was so lovely to have folks here for Thanksgiving.

I feel very
very
grateful.