Bathtime (FINALLY)

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Last baby, we did it all wrong. We followed the doctors advice and put alcohol on the stump every change and was very careful about it. Four years later, when the stump finally fell off and Oliver was ready for preschool, we thought, this can't be normal!! Sure enough, it isn't. This time, we sorta just never touched the disgusting shriveled raisin of an umbilical cord and it rotted off in 5 days. YAY! Baby Henley has a belly button!! And the cat has a new toy to bat around.

In celebration, we decided to do it up with a bath! After being held by my dad who smokes, being blessed with four different types of oils and tucked into her daddy's sleeping arm pit, my baby's head smelled less like a newborn and more like a Bog of Eternal Stench. So, into the water she went! We expected screaming, fit throwing, etc. Nope. Like a tiny mermaid she kicked her legs and splashed her hands and let us wash her and take a billion pictures. (I realize mermaids don't have legs, but they also don't like their picture taken so that whole sentence made no sense).

Here are some pictures of the bath just for your viewing pleasure. The whole time I was singing the song you are listening to now. I love having a girl.

Mexican Plums and Tulips

Spring has sprung in the Goss yard! It seems somewhat Disney movie over here, the morning after Henley was born, I looked out the window and there was a squirrel in the tree, tulips blooming everywhere and a mama bird sitting on her nest. And then they started singing! Not really, but you get the point.

This is the time of year that I should be planting my garden and pulling weeds and cleaning things. We did pack up all the boy baby clothes and give them to a friend, so check THAT one off the list. We also packed up all the baby girl clothes and put them in the closet, DONE! However, somehow, my house still looks like bootay. It WILL get done, we just may have to move to get it done.

In honor of our little girl's birth, Aunt Liz bought us a tree to plant. It is a Mexican Plum, it is gorgeous, it smells delicious when it is flowering and the fruit it produces is perfect for jams! You know I am a sucker for the canning! We planted it this week, of course, my little gardener helped. Sans pants.

Enjoy the spring! I know we are!!


Oliver had a run in with a dog water bowl...

Mastitis and other Joys

So you know that feeling when you get hit by a mack truck and your right boob gets stuck underneath the back bumper and you get dragged for a mile that way until the truck stops and rabid wolves feast on your remains? Yea, that is about what it feels like to have mastitis.

Sunday I woke up feeling very achy, very run down and vaguely like I had fever. However, this was the day that Funkatonic was playing at church! This was the day that we were dedicating the kiddos during the service! I couldn't miss that over a little thing like being in so much pain I couldn't pick my legs up and therefore kept tripping over things!!

I took 4 motrin, gave myself a slap in the face and pep talk in the mirror and bucked up for the day. At church, the music was kicking, the fawning over the new baby was intense and the dedication was beautiful (never mind that the only way we could get Oliver to sit still for it was to have his friend "Nan Nan" who is 9 to hold his hand through the whole thing). If I had an Apple computer, I have no doubt I could share some pictures with you, my mom took some great ones but they are on iphotos which to my computer looks like a bunch of wingdings on a page. I digress.

After church we were supposed to head over to my grandmother's house for dinner. I took a nap first at home, still trying to convince myself that I didn't have what I knew I had. My right breast now felt like it was trying to both explode and rot off at the same time. I took my temperature, but no fever, so I ran with it, thinking I would be fine. This became impossible about half way through dinner, when I started asking people to smother me with a pillow to put me out of my misery. I finally called my midwife and she told me to get to an ER.

Long story short (TOO LATE!), we went to the ER, CT lied about me being a Lactation Consultant without my knowledge, and they rushed me in and out in about 30 minutes as I had the "qualifications" to diagnose myself. A doctor did see me to confirm my suspicions, and gave me a prescription for antibiotics. Thank god for mold.

Brotherly love

...and I worried! Oliver loves loves his baby sister. When she cries he hups to and demands that whoever is holding her give her back to "mommy"!! He wants to hold her all the time and pat her head and
"boop" her nose over and over again. We have actually had to put a moratorium on all nose "boops" during nap and feeding times. The only thing he will not do is kiss her. No idea why, but perhaps for now that is a good thing!

This morning, Oliver found an old pacifier somewhere and tried to give it to Henley. Being the superb mother I am, I told him that he would have to wash it first before giving it to her, hoping that it would distract him long enough for him to forget what he was doing. Not my son! He went into the bathroom, washed it, and brought it back to a sleeping Henley. No matter, Oliver (ever the engineer) decided to MAKE it fit in her closed mouth. Let me tell you something, babies hate it when fake nipples are squashed into their scream holes! It was still a really sweet gesture. I am really worried about Henley's tongue tie so I am feeding her all the time to make sure that my milk comes in properly. Oliver is also doing his part to assist.

Oliver is having some behavioral problems, but they have less to do with the baby and more to do with the fact that I am in bed, trying to heal instead of crawling around on the floor with him constantly. Oh, and the fact that he is cutting all four molars this month. ARG!! I am so thankful that we have a ton of family nearby, it is the only way to have two kiddos, for real!

The birthing of Henley Jane

So, at around 8pm, my water broke but it was just a trickle so I figured I had days. I didn't.

For about an hour, I hung out and tried to rest and watched TV and played around online. And then, contractions started. OUCH!!! They went from 10 minutes, to 7, to 4 and then I called the midwives and said "Okay, now you could come." Of course, I STILL was in deep denial.

We moved upstairs and I pooped everything I had eaten for days and days. Good lord, that might have been the worst part! My back hurt SO much, so I could only manage the contractions on my knees hugging the birthing ball with CT rubbing my hips. We were still waiting for the midwives when transition hit and I was puking in a trashcan. I was stunned that it was happening so fast, contractions were on top of one another.

When the midwife's assistant finally came, I was on the toilet again...pushing. She heard me and shouted "get back in this bed, that is a baby, not a poop!!" I hadn't even been checked at this point. LOL! My actual midwife came in as I was pushing on my side in bed, I was supposed to breathe through them until she got there but I couldn't, not in a million years!! Pushing with no epidural is amazing and powerful and without control. I kept screaming that my clit was ripping. Seriously...(ETA: it didn't, but a cute name like "ring of fire" doesn't begin to describe it)

My mom and sister got there about 5 minutes before HJ was born. I made them sit in the hall because I was too far gone in labor land. At 11:22pm, after less than 4 hours of labor, and only 30 minutes of pushing, Henley Jane came sliding into the world. She was at a slant, with her fist by her face and a cord around her neck and all at once. There was no head then shoulders, it was all of her all at once.

I couldn't tell if she was a girl at first cause she had SO much vernix on her. I announced she was a girl, and then immediately thought, woa, wait, there could be a penis buried under there! I held her immediately though and for about an hour until I had to be stitched up (midwife did a MUCH better job than the OB btw). I tore through my epi scar, fucking episitomy....she is bigger and stronger than Oliver, 8lbs 20inches, and she has no early feed signs, just screaming. HA!

She has quite the tongue tie, which we are getting fixed on Friday, but she nurses just fine, has pooped twice and peed a bucket. I feel no pain! (ETA: I don't care about the pain I do feel would be more like it.) Oh, and I am 3lbs away from my pre-preg weight already!!

The Great Depression

Guys, I know I haven't updated, but it is really difficult these days as my laptop is out of commission and the only time I have for blogging is nap time and bed time, and both require absolute silence upstairs, where the other computer lives. I have two or three blogs in the making, that I will update as soon as said power cord comes in the mail...in 4-6 days. I am stealing 2 minutes while Oliver watches Word World to sorta update you on my status as a hugely pregnant woman. I am 38 weeks plus some days, and am very very achy. If I snap at you when you call to see how I am (at 8am), or if I am short with you when you are shocked I wasn't at home in the morning when you came to call, or if my husband bites your head off at work when you ask how I am feeling, I do truly apologize. I call these last two weeks The Depressed weeks, and as we know from watching drug commercials, depression hurts everyone...

The most hurt by this pregnancy funk is no doubt my son. All he wants is me to be able to get down on my hands and knees and draw endless chalk drawings! Or make two dozen trains from his HORRIBLY designed Lego type toys that do NOT fit together. Or dig in the mud garden that I haven't had the energy to plant anything in because, well, squatting makes it feel like my body is splitting apart. He is doing his best to deal with my irritation. He feeds himself (a box of thin mints), and he goes to the potty (but not without a buddy!!), he makes up games to play ("how loud can I scream?") and he always lets me know where he is (Mommymommymommymommymommy!).

It is just that, when your lower half of your body doesn't really, MOVE, persay, it is really hard to keep a sunny disposition. Rolling over in bed hurts so much I may just the whole sleep thing and sitting up all night in a recliner. Luckily, there is always a Real Housewives of some city on at all times. It doesn't help that I picked the most depressing book ever written to be reading right now, Angela's Ashes. Good god, why does anyone live in Ireland!? Seriously though, the last two weeks or so of pregnancy are the worst, you start convincing yourself that the baby is never coming out and you will stay pregnant forever. I totally get why women believe their doctors and are induced way before their due date. Doctors must know that they are mind-fucking these poor women...

To be honest, the only thing that is keeping me from doing such a thing is remembering how hard it is with a newborn and how as miserable as I am right now, it might be worse in a few weeks and I will beg to put the little bugger back inside. Sorry this is a downer post, sometimes not everything is peaches and cream. I do want this baby, I am just exhausted!!