Mommy Mondays: Introducing Thatbaby!

Create your own free slideshow design If I had known writing about my prodromal labor last week would bring on the real thing I would have written about it weeks ago! On Monday morning I woke up around 4am with more annoying contractions.  The same ones I'd been having for weeks that never seemed to progress.  So I figured I was in for a long, uncomfortable day.   I went in to work, where they were no long surprised to see me.  At this point, we all figured I'd make it allllllll the way to my induction later in the week.  Besides, my birthday was on Tuesday and there was NO WAY I was having a baby on my birthday.  That night Thatboy and I were watching a movie when the contractions started again.  What's funny about them is that they were farther apart than the ones I usually have.  I started timing them and they were 7 minutes apart - the farthest they'd ever been.  It was 10pm at night and I figured I should go to bed.  That usually got my contractions to disappear and I definitely didn't want labor starting. By 11:30pm, the contractions were pretty strong and now every 4 minutes apart, but I could still talk through them.  I called Thatmom, crying that I was about to have a birthday baby.  She headed down to come watch Thatkid so Thatboy and I could head to the hospital.  Thatmom arrived at 1:00am on Tuesday morning.  My birthday.  By that time, I was in agony.  I could no longer talk through the contractions, it took everything I could to get through them.  I tried various positions to get relief - sitting, standing, moving around, on the ball, on all fours, nothing worked.  The contractions were being sporadic, usually 4 minutes apart, sometimes 2 minutes apart depending on if I was moving around or not. I was vomiting, which was causing more contractions.  We headed to the hospital.  It was the longest 20 minute drive I have ever taken.  Sitting in the car was probably the worst position out of all I tried!  And I was still vomiting.  We arrived at the hospital at 1:30am and the front desk took one look at me and sent me up to triage.  It was very "Hollywood" with Thatboy double parking the car at the entrance and rushing me in where I could barely tell them my name because of the contractions.  When they checked me I was 6cm dilated and 100% effaced.  They immediately got me admitted.  I could barely get up and into the wheelchair to get to the labor and delivery floor, having them wait through another vomiting and contraction episode before I could stand.  By 2:30am I was in L&D with the anesthesiologist on his way.  It took at least half an hour for him to place the epidural, but after that, things got back to normal.  From 3-4am I was able to actually answer questions about my medical history, give them my name and birthdate, talk about my pregnancy and thoughts on the upcoming process. Before she left the room at 4am, the nurse did another check. I was still 6cm, pushing 7cm and my water bag was "bulgy." We talked about whether it would break on its own or need to be broken. The nurse said the doctor would come in after shift change around 7am and based on progress we'd talk about it at that point. She tucked me in and told me to get some sleep and left the room. I was anxious to get some sleep.  Other than the pain relief, I really wanted the epidural so I could get some sleep.  I'd been up for 24 hours at this point and I knew I wanted to rest before any babies showed up.  I closed my eyes and - my water broke. I called the nurse back in and got cleaned up, then she headed out again and I tried again to get some sleep.  After my water broke, I could feel the contractions, despite the epidural. They were still so much better than before, but still pretty uncomfortable. I wasn't able to get any sleep. At 4:40am the nurse came back in. The baby was experiencing Tachycardia (increased heart rate) and she was a bit concerned. She tried having me change positions, which didn't seem to help, so she called another nurse to bring an oxygen mask and internal monitor. The other nurse suggested they check me out and see where I was in terms of cervical progress. I was complete and the baby's head was almost hanging out. "If she pushes right now, this baby is coming out." All of a sudden it was all hands on deck. I think every nurse on the floor was in my room, but no doctor. They were paging the doctor, but couldn't find her. I don't think they even broke down the bed. They had me start pushing anyway. Thatboy says after the first push, the head emerged, but it took about 4 more pushes for the rest of the baby to come out. At 4:52am, less than 7 hours after my contractions started, less than an hour after my water broke, we met Thatbaby.  He was as blue as a smurf, but cried immediately and was placed on my chest for skin to skin as he was stimulated to help get the color into him. Apgars were 6/9 because of his blueness. Thatbaby continues to be my Oppo-baby.  So very different from his big brother.  Breastfeeding has been so much easier this time around as Thatbaby has a voracious appetite.  Despite his rough start, he hasn't had the same issues as Thatkid, who suffered from jaundice for almost the first month of his life.  We're finding the adjustment to being a family of four much easier than anticipated.  There's so much less anxiety the second time around, because we already know what to expect, and how to handle situations.  Thatboy remarked that this time at the hospital it was almost vacation-like, just sitting around and relaxing. Although I do think the benefit to having a weekday baby (and a second kid) is that there were far less visitors at the hospital.  Which gave us a lot more downtime.  Our only guests were Thatmom and Thatkid - who is madly in love with his little brother. We've been told about jealousy, that it takes several days for a sibling to understand the baby isn't going anywhere, that we could expect all sorts of behavioral issues.  We were expecting the worst, which could be why things are going so well.  Thatkid is ridiculously protective of his brother, he doesn't want to give him away.  He wants to be whereever the little guy is, traipsing behind to watch diaper changes, peering into the crib, asking to "carry him" (hold him) multiple times an hour.  He is often fond of saying "He's MY baby.  No one else's."  I'm already taking such delight in my boys!

Meet Our Muppet

One of the things I love about Thatboy is that we are on the same page about things more often than not. Like finding out the sex of our unborn child. Both of us wanted to wait until birth to discover whether we'd be having a son or daughter.

And not knowing made the whole pregnancy a little more fun. We got to envision what life would be like with a little boy or girl. We got to come up with two different name options. Many people expressed disturbance that we weren't finding out. Among other things, they told us we wouldn't be able to bond with the baby if we didn't address the child by name from the first moments of conception.

I blame my BA in theater, but I'm superstitious. Frankly, even if we knew the sex, we wouldn't have used a name until birth for fear of putting a kenahora on the health of my unborn child. Instead we lovingly used a pet name for Thatbaby all through the pregnancy and beyond. He was our Muppet - or Mupps for short.

The Muppets have always held a special tie between Thatdad and I. It goes alllll the way back to when I was a baby myself. There's a joke that for the first week I was home, I kept my mouth shut. Around week 2 it opened and I haven't stopped making noise since. I was queen of the colicky babies and the only way my parents could get me to sleep is if Thatdad kept me at a 45 degree angle against his chest. And so every night he would rock me to sleep while watching The Muppet Show. Our little nickname became a way of including Thatdad in the birth of his grandchild.

After Thatbaby was born we asked our friends to give us a couple of weeks to get settled before we'd start entertaining visitors. Last weekend we hosted an open house so that our friends could finally get a chance to meet the little guy they'd been hearing so much about.

It only made sense to theme our little get-together as a chance to Meet the Muppet. We chose to the host the party in the middle of the day so we could load our guests up with sugar instead of real food.

Don't worry - there were vegetables available too. Which is good, because Harvard informed me that he had a dentist appointment the next day.

And I once again enlisted the very talented services of Wan in creating the perfect Muppet-themed treat for our guests.

Since this was an open house, we weren't sure when the guests would leave, or when they would stop arriving - so I went with something easy for Thatboy and I for dinner. And you all know what that means, right? Pasta!

In this case a baked ziti is exactly what the doctor ordered. Since it only tastes better the next day and is quick to reheat. It also left lots of leftovers, which is important since Thatboy started back up at work last week. And having an easy lunch was such a nice thing to have when I was home alone with the baby for the first time.

Baked Ziti
1 box of ziti
3 cups of your favorite marinara sauce
1 lb of fresh ricotta cheese
2 cups fresh mozzarella cheese, shredded
1 egg
1 tsp dried oregano leaves
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
Parmesan cheese, thinly sliced

1. Preheat oven to 375°F. Cook ziti.
2. When ziti is cooked, mix it with half of the marinara, the ricotta, mozzarella, egg, oregano, garlic, and pepper.
3. Spread ziti mixture in a large baking dish and top with the remaining sauce. Spread the parmesan across the top and cover. Bake for 30 minutes.
   

First Steps toward Manhood

This is going to be a controversial post, so I promise there will be cake in the end. In fact, that was one of my incentives to get Thatbaby into the world. I promised him that if he came out, there would in fact be cake. Cake is an excellent motivator for just about anyone.

We knew from the very beginning that if Thatbaby was a boy, he was going to be circumcised. Many years ago, back when we were dating, I brought up the fact that it was very important to me to raise my children Jewish. It was a dealbreaker for me in a relationship. Thatboy, having his own issues with his Catholic upbringing, readily agreed. So it was a given that we begin Thatbaby's introduction to his heritage with the traditional brit milah.

On Sunday, 8 days after his birth, friends and family from across the country joined us in celebrating this new life. The bris has three main parts - the baby naming, the circumcision, and like any good Jewish ceremony - the food.

The Rabbi who married Thatboy and I performed the naming ceremony. He spoke of Thatdad, who shares a birth week with Thatbaby and a little bit more. We had decided to use Thatdad's Hebrew name as the Thatbaby's Hebrew name. Talking about Thatdad affected me as I expected it would - every moment of joy brings with it a feeling of loss. Of course that meant that the readings I performed were done through tears.

After the naming ceremony, the circumcision was performed by a Mohel. Our Rabbi recommended a couple in the area. We decided not to take chances with our little boy and went with the one who is also the Associate Director of Pediatric Urology at a prominent local hospital. (As an aside- we went in for a check up today and our pediatrician seems to think he did a good job. Thatboy is obviously concerned about loss of length, but I think that's probably a typical dad concern.)

After the circumcision 3 generations surrounded Thatbaby for a blessing. Which has always been my favorite part of Friday night services. I honestly can't wait to be able to participate in that with Thatbaby.

And then there was eating. Loads of eating. You would think for a breakfast occasion there wouldn't be massive amounts of food, but then again, if you thought that, you probably have never met my family.

I already had made the challah, not expecting to use it quite so soon. But I wanted to do more. Especially since I had been banned from the kitchen since the birth of Thatbaby. And it was driving me crazy for several reasons.

First, because TFIL did most of the cooking. This was a multifold problem. I've already complained about his use of every pot/pan/plate/dish in the house in making meals - exacerbated by the fact that he has a "I cook, you clean" policy. Which means my kitchen was a disaster area every night. Add to that the fact he takes 3 hours to cook green beans and you can imagine how long they were here every night. And if that wasn't enough, he spent whatever time he wasn't cooking complaining about all the work he was having to do by cooking.

TMIL wasn't much better as she spent her time complaining about how bored they were during the day when they weren't over at our place making a mess. She was on cleaning duty and again I wasn't allowed to help. BUT she also refused to respect any of our wishes about where things belonged. This ranged from "Please don't put our good fragile wine glasses in the dishwasher" all the way to "Ummm I can't find where the plates are since they don't seem to be in the plate cupboard." Which meant every night after they left we had to unload the dishwasher and wash by hand everything we asked her not to put in, and then go searching through all our drawers and cupboards to find things and put them back where they belonged.

I decided to put my foot down toward the end of their stay and take back my kitchen. It started slowly - picking up first just an entree (the night of the three hour green beans), but by their last night they showed up just in time to have dinner placed on plates for them, with no cleanup to be done (because that's how it works in Thathouse.)

I also used some of my precious - noninlaw time to bake a cake for the bris. Since it was a morning affair I didn't want a layer cake, dripping with frosting. Nothing overly sweet. I figured a coffee-cake type cake would be the best way to go. Filled with dried fruit and nuts it's almost like a quick bread. Except for the use of cake flour which makes it light and fluffy.

The soaking of the raisins is a trick I picked up from my great grandmother who used to leave that step out whenever she gave anyone a recipe involving raisins. It was her own trick so that people would say "I made Zelda's raisin bread and it just didn't taste as good as when Zelda made it." She soaked her raisins in water, I used kirsch. Because I had it leftover from fondue night and chocolate and cherry combine together oh so well. I made this in a round, but it could easily be baked in loaf pans for the upcoming holidays.

Chocolate Fruit and Nut Cake
1/3 cup golden raisins
2 Tbsp kirsch
2 oz unsweetened chocolate
1 stick butter
1 1/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup milk
2 cups cake flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
1/3 cup dried cherries
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

1. Soak raisins in kirsch overnight.
2. Preheat oven to 350. Spray two round cake pans with baking spray. Melt the chocolate in a double boiler and let cool.
3. Cream the butter in an electric mixer and then slowly add in the sugar. Beat until light and fluffy.
4. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing completely before each addition.
5. Add in the chocolate, vanilla, and beat until thoroughly combined.
6. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon. Alternate adding in these dry ingredients with the milk, starting and ending with the dry ingredients.
7. Stir in the raisins, along with the kirsch they've been soaking in, the cherries, and the walnuts.
8. Spread the batter into the pans and bake for 35 minutes. Cool in pans before turning out onto a cooling rack.

This is the one Jonesy

I haven't been entirely honest with Eat.Live.Be. I've been kind of a cheater. This is the post where I'm coming clean.

My first cheat was in picking my goals. I purposely picked things that would be pretty easy for me to do. Drinking more water? Drinking less alcohol? Yeah, those were very specific goals. Nothing nearly as difficult as "watching what I eat" or "losing 15 lbs."

Speaking of the losing 15 lbs, here's my second cheat. Every month we're supposed to post how much weight we've lost. I haven't been posting this. And there's a reason for this. I haven't been losing weight. In fact, since Eat.Live.Be. has begun, I've actually gained 2 lbs.

Whew. It feels good to finally confess. Although, I'm sure you're expecting a little more from me. You know, like an explanation for my sneakiness? Well, let me try to explain.

Today on Eat.Live.Be. we're supposed to discuss vitamins and supplements we take. I get most of my vitamins from the food I eat, but I do supplement - I take these every night.

Not quite getting the full picture yet? Maybe these cookies will help. My friend Wan made them for me. Isn't she incredibly talented? If you need cookies for any occasion, I would definitely get in touch with her.

Still not there? Maybe Thatmom can put it into words best.

Next week's topic we share our playlists. I love music, so expect some good times!

And here are a list of the other bloggers participating:

• Sarah - www.sarahscucinabella.com
• Cate - www.sweetnicks.com
  
• Maris - www.ingoodtasteblog.net
• Chris - www.melecotte.com
• Faith - www.clickblogappetit.com/
• Kristen - www.dineanddish.net
• Emily - http://andersonfamilycrew.blogspot.com/
• Jenna - http://stopdropandblog.com/
• Joanne - http://www.joanne-eatswellwithothers.com/,
• Casey - http://www.thestarnesfam.com
• Patsy - http://familyfriendsandfood.blogspot.com/
• Tri-Fit Mom - http://trifitmom.blogspot.com/
• Claire - http://cookiedoc.blogspot.com/
• Allison - http://sweetflours.blogspot.com/
• Jen - http://njepicurean.blogspot.com/
• Leslie - www.thehungryhousewife.com
• Rivki - http://www.healthyeatingforordinarypeople.com/
  
• Claudia from Journey of an Italian Cook
• Jennifer - http://lick-a-plate.blogspot.com/