Ed

Just a quick follow up on the last posting.  Some have questioned how I could have so easily succumbed to a couple of the poses.  To me, it is quite clear.  I will now be able to prove to Magnus that, before he showed up:

1. I had hair, and it wasn't grey.
2. I was in relatively decent shape. 

If any of that changes, we ALL know who is to blame!!!

If you are unsure of who that might be, see the suspect below, enjoying Tummy Time on Nanny's blanket.  Who would have guessed that, 6 years after buying it, my leather coffee table would fit a baby blanket so perfectly.  Definitely was not taking that into consideration when shopping at ELTE.  Definitely will not be shopping there again any time soon!

 

Oops, I almost forgot the 3rd thing that it proves to Magnus:

 

3. Always do what Mommy says.

Photo Shoots

Ever since I saw Demi Moore on the cover of Vanity Fair Magazine I have wanted to do a maternity photo shoot. Well, the day finally came in October when I was 36 weeks pregnant. I found the photographer online. I liked her portfolio a lot, and her studio was very close to the house. But the clincher was that her prices were better than most while she still seemed professional (the cheapest were obviously new to the game – their sites  and portfolios sucked).

Matt was hesitant but played the part of the doting partner quite well. Like most people, he is not fond of getting his picture taken, but just take a look at how great they turned out!

 

 

 

 

 

The shoot only lasted an hour which was more than enough time for my cheeks to hurt from smiling so much. When we were close to being done, I was informed my smiles seemed feigned. So the photographer asked Matt to stand behind her because my smiles were much more genuine when I looked at him. (sigh) She was right. The last one is the one Matt likes the best, and it was when I was looking right at him. J

Obviously, I had no intention of stopping at maternity photos. I couldn’t wait to get pictures of Magnus in crocheted hats posed with favourite stuffed animals. So when he was just 6 days old we returned to the photographer’s studio for Magnus’s shoot. It was supposed to take 3 hours but turned into 5 hours! The photographer was great with him. After I fed him and cuddled him to sleep, she continued rocking and cooing him until he was really down. And she had to stop the shoot and rock him again numerous times because of how often she would move him to get just the right shot. But she said she loves doing it. And we couldn’t be happier with the pictures.

 

 

We only received soft copies of the prints we purchased, even though there were a ton more. But we are thrilled with both the experience as well as with the end products. So for our Toronto friends, if you’re interested, look up Lucy Literna (http://www.lucyliterna.com/ ).

 

Nanny and Grandpa Come for a Visit

A little bit of a delayed update, but last weekend, after almost a week since Magnus was born, Nanny Raz finally got her hands on him.  Knowing that we were not yet taking in overnight guests, Nan and Grandpa were able to stay with Laurie Farrell, an old high school chum of Nan’s, in Burlington.  This allowed for 3 visits with us while they spent 2 nights with Laurie.

The visit was greatly welcomed by all.  After their first day, as we were chowing down on Nan’s Chicken Stew, Karen remarked on how nice it was that we didn’t have to do anything for dinner (don't worry, I have been handling most of the meals - I know my place).  When they weren’t covering for me when I went to work on the Friday, putting together Karen’s new lamp for the nursery, or taking Magnus on his first ride in his stroller (thanks again to the Raz, McGuire, and Cade clans for such a great stroller), they were letting Magnus get some warm and snuggly naps in their laps. 

 

Getting ready for his 1st stroller ride!

 

 Cozy nap with Grandpa Raz.

 

Nanny Raz keeping a watchful eye.

Luckily for us, the gifts of their visit live on, much like a birthday that is extended by unexpected gifts from godparents ½ way across the country.  Although the chicken stew, cream of broccoli soup, and banana bread disappeared quickly (c’mon, I’m 6’3” / 220lbs and Karen is trying to supply a marathon cluster feeder!), we’ve put some of the spaghetti sauce in the freezer with, what I am calling, as succinctly as possible, the “Extra Container of Mystery Stew That Might Go Over Rice”.

And for those interested, the food was great.  No signs of pineapples or walnuts. 

There’s a New Kid in Town (And I’m Still Around)

Magnus will have many “firsts”.  One of his firsts at home last week was his first sponge bath on the kitchen counter.  I had been warned by a friend that he will try to, and succeed at, peeing on me every chance that he has.  Although he has succeeded a number of times at getting Karen during various diaper changes, he has yet to hit me.  During his first bath he tried, but misfired and hit himself.  I remember thinking, “Nice try, buddy, but I’m still the man of the house.  Plus, it’s bath time, so there’s soap and water everywhere anyhow! Rookie.” 

 

I thought that I had won.  But no, ladies and gentleman, I was naïve.

 

Magnus upset that he did not get his pre-bath sauna!

 

Comforted by Mom, post-sponge bath. Life is tough!

 

There must be a Sun Tzu quote out there somewhere referring to underestimating one’s enemies. 

The next day, while I was out, Karen and Magnus took a nap in our King bed.  Magnus somehow managed to leak out of his diaper and pee on my side of the bed.  The mattress cover, of course, had been removed a few days earlier and had not yet been replaced.   

Soon afterwards, with one of my favourite pillows acting as support during a feeding session, he did it again.  In my attempt to wash and dry the pillow, it was ruined.   

Some might think it all circumstance.  A baby being a baby.  To think such things, one would have to forget what I had forgotten: there is still Jodoin in his blood.   

Well played, Magnus.  Well played. 

Feeding and Feeding and More Feeding

Magnus had a hard time finding his latch.

The nurse informed me that his first few days of breast feeding would mostly be about practice. Babes don’t need much nourishment in the first couple of days until the milk comes in (which takes 3 or 4 days – until then, babes survive on ‘pre-milk’ called colostrum which is rich in antibodies).  But they need to work on latching and their nutritional requirements do increase a little bit each day.

The first night we were in the hospital he slept most of the night through as is typical. The next day we spent a lot of time practicing nursing. Every 3 hours on the dot we would get him up and throw him on my chest. But he wasn’t latching. He’d fight and fuss the whole time. Late in the day, our nurse was as concerned as we were (I was pretty stressed that he wasn’t getting anything). So the nurse recommended we start pumping and finger feeding the little guy. So we adopted our 3 hour schedule to the following:

·         We would attempt breast feeding to encourage the practice. But after a short while we ended up feeding Magnus the colostrum I had pumped in the previous 3 hours. Matt would hold him all swaddled up (Matt’s pretty great at swaddling) while I took the very precious little bit of colostrum I had managed to pump, dipped my finger in it and stuck my finger in his mouth. He had a strong suck which was encouraging.

·         Matt and Magnus would then go to sleep while I stayed up for another 40 minutes or so pumping so that we had something to feed him in the next 3 hour session.

·         I would then get to sleep for an hour or so.

We did this for the rest of the day and throughout the night. As the night progressed, I was getting even more stressed because the little bit of colostrum I managed to pump ranged from 0.5ml to 2ml which is practically nothing! The way it works is that the more you nurse, the more milk (or colostrum) your body will make. It’s a demand driven supply system – as long as there is demand there will be ample supply. My maximum pump had been 2ml, and the nurse could see I was pretty upset. She suggested that in the morning a lactation consultant would come to our room to help us out.

At 8am I was incredibly relieved when the lactation consultant walked into our room. I couldn’t hold back the tears as I told her the tale of what we had been doing over the last 48hrs to try to feed Magnus. She was incredibly reassuring and was confident he would latch with ease soon. She watched my attempt to nurse him and got her hands right in there to reposition him over and over again. She cheated a bit by taking some of my colostrum in a syringe and pouring it into his little mouth as he was latching, the point of which was to associate my nipple with where the good stuff came from. And it worked pretty well. But she wasn’t happy with his suck. She said he was flicking his tongue as opposed to strongly sucking. And to make things worse, she declared he had a bit of a temper, wanting the satisfaction of the milk without having to work for it.

So after working with her for more than an hour, her advice was to continue doing what we were doing but to no longer finger feed him as the suck he was using for finger feeding was not the type of suck we wanted him to have on a nipple. Instead, she taught us how to spoon feed Magnus. And to ensure Magnus got his minimal nutritional requirements each day, we topped him up with formula. I was disappointed to have to use formula, but the plan was to use it only for a few days until my milk came in. So I continued to pump gaining more and more colostrum with each pump. At each feeding, after attempting to breast feed (which was getting better with each session) and after spoon feeding him the pumped colostrum, we would also spoon feed him some formula. On the third day of life the lactation consultant said he minimally needed 15ml at each feeding. So if I pumped 8ml of colostrum, we would finish his feeding with 7ml of formula. And I have to admit that I was beyond relieved when it worked. I just felt so much better that he was getting something into his little belly, and that with more practice he would latch well.

So it ended up that we stayed one extra night in the hospital because neither the staff nor I were comfortable with Magus’s latch. But when we left everyone was happy he and I had synched up. We continued with the spoon feeding for another day or so until my milk came in, and since then Magnus hasn’t had a problem nursing at all. J

 

The 24 hour…48 hour…84 hour stay in the hospital

What was expected to be a one night stay at Mt. Sinai turned into 2 nights (as Karen went through labour on night 1), then 3 nights (as you are kept for 2 nights after a C-Section), then 4 nights, as Magnus was still trying to figure out how to eat! 

Although at the time I did not know that I would be having a 4 night stay in a Lazy Boy lounger (hello Osteopath and Massage Therapy appointments!), the beginning of our stay post-labour was helped by 2 key events:

 Ron, our man on the inside:

§  While waiting in the recovery room post-labour, I witnessed the Room Scheduler instruct a nurse to wheel a patient BACK to the recovery room, as there was still insufficient space on the newborn floors for new mothers.  Concerned that we would not get a private room because of the volume, a quick text was sent to our good friend, and Mt. Sinai Director of Operations (thank you MBA connections!), Ron.  Ron was quick on the draw, got a call into the 16^th floor, and confirmed that we were good to go, even giving us our check-in time before it was known by our nurse. 

 

§  For this we were extremely thankful.  During my numerous hallway walks to get water or outside food, I saw a number of shared rooms with (shared) visitors.  I’m sure that if there were 12 family members hanging out for hours on the other side of a curtain while Karen and Magnus tried to recover from surgery, there would have been a minor issue.  Just because Magnus’s first outfit was prison stripes, it didn’t mean that Daddy needed to follow suit.  Thank goodness for a multi-tiered health care system!

 

Magnus in his Johnny Cash outfit

 Oma and Grandpa Hawkins:

§  Another great start to our stay was that, as I was confirming our room status with Ron in the hall outside the recovery room, Karen’s folks showed up.  Ross and Betty came down from Elgin first thing on the day Magnus was born.  They even brought him a card (two cards, if you include the one Betty bought in case it was a girl!).  They helped get us to our room and comforted Magnus during his first hours of life.  Magnus is their 2^nd grandchild and first grandson.  Only time will tell if he will be able to keep up with his extremely energetic cousin, Jacoba. His step cousins Cam and Tyler are pretty chill, so hopefully they'll be calming influences on Magnus.

 

 

Although the post-labour stay started well, it would end up being extended as Magnus and Karen got synced on the whole feeding scenario.  I will leave it to Karen to describe the whole finger feeding, spoon feeding, pumping cycle, etc... 

The Big Day

My water broke at 2pm on October 31, 2013. It took me half an hour to verify my suspicion that it was, in fact, my water that had broken. Afterall, most women’s water breaks mid-labour at some point. Rarely does the water break like in the movies. But, it did for me. So my first instinct was to call Matt; however, I called the labour and delivery triage instead. I wanted to explain what happened and ask them what I should do. They suggested that I go to the hospital to get checked out. Once the water has broken they want to deliver the babe within 24 hours due to the chance of infection. So then I called Matt. And I texted him. And I emailed him. No answer. So I called my mum and let her know I was in labour, and then I took a shower. I was planning on taking a shower right when my water broke, so I figured I would feel better if I followed through. When I was done, there was still no answer from Matt. So I called his office manager and left a message with her (as was the plan if I couldn’t get ahold of him). I started packing up snacks etc. to take to the hospital and finally Matt called me 45 minutes after I first tried to get ahold of him. He gathered up his things at work and promptly came home. He changed and we finished packing our things to stay overnight. He was very calm and reassuring. But I wasn’t in any pain. If I was having contractions I wasn’t feeling them.

So we made our way to the hospital. They checked me out at triage and after a few tests they verified that indeed my water had broken. But I was only 3cm dilated and wasn’t feeling any contractions. They suggested that we go home and come back when the contractions were 5 minutes apart lasting 1 minute each and having been going on for at least an hour. So we got home after 7pm, which meant that we missed all the kids coming to the door (it was Halloween!!!). After having dinner, Matt went to bed for a few hours. I, however, could not sleep as contractions had started. I watched tv for a few hours and recorded whenever I felt a contraction. Matt woke up after 1am and we decided it was time to go to the hospital. It had been over 11 hours since my water had broken afterall.

When we got back to the hospital I was only 4cm dilated and the baby hadn’t moved down much at all. We were wheeled into a delivery room where I labored for a few hours without medication as the contractions were still tolerable. But after a few hours I remained at 4cm dilated. The doctor suggested they give me an IV which would speed up the process. At the same time I decided it was time for the epidural, so both were administered at about 6am. Within the hour our nurse rushed into the room flipping me to my side pressing buttons and calling for help. I had had a 6 minute intense contraction (not that I felt it) and the baby’s heart rate had dropped. The medication was doing the trick alright of speeding up the process. My contractions were coming hard and fast but this 6 minute contraction was too much for the babe who didn’t get a ‘breather’. So in changing my position and waiting for a few minutes, the babe’s heart rate increased to the safe range again. The doctor reduced the medication I was receiving thinking it was probably too much for me. Again, I got about an hour’s ‘rest’ before the nurse rushed in again followed by a swarm of doctors, residents and medical students who had no qualms about flipping me around and ‘checking’ on the babe. Matt certainly saw more than he bargained for. The babe’s heart rate increased again after a time, and the doctor again reduced my medication. After the third such incident, the doctor talked to us about the possibility of a C-section. I was only 5cm dilated and the babe had not moved down at all. It was 10-ish in the morning and the real fear was letting my very slow labour progress past the 24hr mark as to when my water had broken. The doctor’s recommendation was to have a C-section if I had another incident of the babe’s heart rate dropping. I was disappointed and really needed the time to process the suggestion. But with Matt’s stalwart and rational help, we decided together that it was the right thing to do. Again within the hour, our medical team rushed in to save the babe and we were almost instantly wheeled into the operating room.

Now, it wasn’t an ‘emergency’ but the C-section needed to be done quickly. I was wheeled into the operating room and even though Matt had been right behind me, he didn’t enter the room. I figured he must be ‘scrubbing in’ or something, so I let it slide. But what sucked was that no one told me where he was. Rather, I felt like a slab of meat thrown on a table with bright lights shining on my naked body for the entire world to see. I tried to cover up but the nurse shooed my hand away and insisted she needed to clean my abdomen. But I argued that didn’t mean she needed to expose ALL of me. She didn’t listen to me though. At the same time I had 3 anesthesiologists poking and prodding, and a few people were off in the corner talking about their weekend or something. Here I was naked and anxious without any support surrounded by seemingly uncaring and ‘process-minded’ medical professionals who treated me like just a widget caught up in the assembly line. Finally the head anesthesiologist spoke to me and told me where Matt was and that everything was going to be alright. That’s all I really needed was someone to treat me like a human being. A few minutes later the doctor came in and she was really great. She told me what was going to happen, that Matt was just about ready to come in, and she truly reassured me. She really was great. However, she pretty much started the incision right away, and Matt wasn’t in the room yet! I started telling the doctor I wanted her to stop until I had Matt at my side but then Matt finally came in. He sat right by my head, stroking my hand and reassuring me. I could feel my insides being pushed around and there was one really big push where it felt like all my insides were pushed towards my ribcage. Then the doctor declared, “It’s a blonde…” waiting… waiting… “boy!” It was so weird! I could feel the weight reduced. And I, of course, started to cry. I was so relieved when I heard him cry. They took him to the side and cleaned him up. I had previously told them I wanted to do skin-to-skin right away, so they brought him to me and placed him across my neck (the sheet was still up so I couldn’t see what they were doing to my lower half – hence, the only place to put him was my neck). Here’s the first moment we had together.

 

You can see he had his fist over my eye. I didn’t mind one bit. I kept stroking his back and talking to him while Matt held his hand. We stayed that way for quite a while as they stitched me up. Then we got our first family pics.

 

 

 

Why Plan B?

Hi everyone. The following post was going to be posted on October 31, 2013. I had saved it as a draft with the intention of sharing it with Matt when he came home from work. However, that day everything changed. :) So when you read this first post, please pretend it is from my perspective as of that morning.

                                                                      ----------------------------------

Who would have thought that on Saturday December 1^st, 2012 I would meet the man of my dreams. And I was SO not interested! We met at a mutual friend’s Christmas party. I was happy having a few drinks with good friends, not looking to meet anyone. Matt, on the other hand, tells a different tale. Not to speak for him, but he says he walked in the front door, saw me in the living room, and time stood still. He just had to talk to me. It took him a few hours to muster up the courage, but he finally meandered his way into the circle I was standing in. Even though we talked for hours, I still wasn’t very interested; however, I did give him my number that night cuz you never know. We went on our first date a few days later, and I fell oh so hard for him.

And here we are. 11 months later. Living together. A little quick, yes, but there's a reason. What do you think this…

Has to do with this?

Well, we took a trip to Mexico in February and we had a happy accident. It was the best week of my life! And now we are expecting any day now. Our babe is due to arrive November 3, 2013. Neither of us could be happier! Obviously getting pregnant after dating for only 3 months was not part of the plan, but we just rolled with it. Onto Plan B. :)

 

Hence this blog. We are living Plan B and wish to share our trials and tribulations of parenthood with our friends and family. For the moment, I am waiting (somewhat) patiently sitting with my feet up and an electric hot pad on my back all day long while Matt stays busy at work anxiously awaiting my panicked call. We're as ready as we're going to be. Looking at the nursery pictures below, you can see we still have to hang some pictures and we need a shelf for books and nick knacks, but besides that, we're good to go.

 

And I figured I'd suck it up and share the changes my body went through. We took belly pictures every week since mid March. So here's week 7 followed by this past weekend, week 39.

 

 

Yikes! I'm SO looking forward to getting back to the gym.

 

So the next time we post, we will likely have welcomed our little one to the world. There will, of course, be lots of pictures, but in the meantime, I thought I'd share our first family picture, taken the night before we left Mexico.