Three Months of Mabel

Writing these blogs is getting harder and harder.

I just reread Jenna's last post recalling two months of Mabel and it seriously seems like yesterday. I've been thinking about this post and how much she has changed and grown and "matured". So much that I didn't know what I would write until I looked back at last month and had a little inspiration from some pictures Aunt Danielle sent over and Jenna made into a pic-stitch

(I think that's what it is called, I'm not good with that sort of thing... the second Snap Chat I received was a video of a grown man shaking his butt (quite professionally I might add, great butt Rob), so maybe I should just leave my tech savvy-ness to the blogs and my new found love of Twitter).

Back to the important stuff. When you last read Jenna told you about how well Mabel was growing, how she had just started sleeping through the night and how lucky we felt, as parents, to have such a calm, agreeable and pleasant little baby. Thankfully all of that is still true, but after seeing the pictures Danielle sent I realize how much the last month has amplified everything.

Pictured: Itty Bitty Beans first moments with the world.

She was so tiny.
She needed us for everything.

In the last month she has become so independent and (I know this sounds ridiculous) smart and strong and funny.

I'm teetering on "Stop Dad, shut the hell up, it's just a baby" territory, so let me explain:

Independence

In the photographs above you see a very small child. That small child needed constant care. In the first month particularly and even up to the last blog post. At that point sleeping a combined total of ten hours between the two of us was a miracle.

Nowadays there are very obvious times when Mabel has opinions. Daddy tickling her or laughing at her makes her grumpy, but mommy doing the same thing makes her giggle. If she doesn't like how she's positioned on the couch, god dammit you're going to know about it! We are able to set her down in one of her play areas and she just goes to it! She doesn't need us to have all the fun in the world. This is actually sorta sad to think about too deeply, which is why my policy is never to think about anything, ever. This brings me to,

Smart

The girl is brilliant. In the last two weeks she has really started to love her play mat. Before that it was her vibrating chair with the dangly things. She just liked being in them and staring at the owl or the turtle or the lamb or the doggy. In what seemed like a blink of they eye she went from staring with potential random arm swaying to purposeful grabbing, holding, shaking, rocking and giggling.

She isn't only cooing adorably anymore, she goes back and forth with you when you make noises with her. It's the baby way of talking, but she's still talking. She'll look right into your eyes as you match her grunt for grunt or hum for hum. The other day Jenna was blowing bubbles with her gum and Mabel started blowing bubbles with her spit. The other day I was ignoring her and watching tv. I looked over, she was ignoring me and watching tv. What?! Seriously! Brilliant!

She has always been happy and smiley, but she seems to be understanding situations now as well. We have stuck with our bedtime routine, always slightly altering it as we go (Jenna still reads so much and is constantly looking for ways to make Mabel's life easier and better... it's astounding). We're learning not to worry and to embrace flexibility. Give each other time and space as we need it and include Mabel in those plans. She gets it. Bedtimes are easier, mornings and baths with daddy are easier, she is still an amazing eater, but she even knows now to slow down and give her momma a break.

These things might seem like be complete coincidences and, even if the majority of them are, they are the sign of an ever expanding cognization of the world around her. Her growth isn't just in her belly or cheeks or clothes size (she's rockin' out in 3-6 month attire). It's mental, it's physical, she's always been cute and adorable, of course, but as she looks less like me and more like her mom you can see how beautiful she is. It's in her bright eyes, her warm and happy smile, her long and flowing eyelashes, the way her cheeks and mouth react to what's going on around her. She's growing up and getting so...

Strong

Mabel's movements are more purposeful. I feel like a lot people say "she's so solid," which she is (in more ways than one - we know she's a chunk and we love it!). Last month I would have said, yeah, she has great neck control when I hold her up. Apparently science tells us this is very important because we do a little something called Tummy Time. Tummy Time is a magical time when you lay your baby on their stomach, preferably on a soft surface, and watch as they struggle to hold their head up and hone their neck control, back strength, and potential for push ups.

Four weeks ago, Mabel hated her some Tummy Time. She hated Tummy time as much as she loved Nakey Time, which is a significant amount (still). It would take seconds until she burrowed her smooshed up little face into the mat and miserably squirmed and fussed. Now, our girl's gots some grit! She holds her head up like a champ for tens of seconds and when she's tired she sorta just lays down like a big girl and eats her hand. Her hand must be delicious, because she eats the hell out of that thing.

Pictured: Tummy Time during, after, and complex math on her back

Funny

The last category I mentioned is definitely true, but a little bit of a misnomer. Maybe not a misnomer, but it definitely has some layers.

It is funny in the most terrifying way how much she has grown so quickly. Look at the first picture posted in her first hours and days. Then look at the picture above. That's only THREE months. She has changed so much in three months it's funny to even try to remember what it used to be like to be her parent; what she used to be like before right now. It's funny how it all blends together and how I feel like it was only yesterday, but I can't even imagine Mabel being anything other than what she is right now. It's funny that in four weeks I will re-read this post and most likely type the exact same things, but comment on how "four weeks ago I thought she had changed from the four weeks prior to that, boy was I wrong."

Then it's funny to think that is how it will be for the rest of her life. She'll always be this tiny thing that needs us more than anything. This tiny thing that looks into her momma's eyes and coos and smiles and makes her so happy. This tiny thing that will start rolling over, then crawling, then walking, then talking, then watching zombie movies, then going to kindergarten, then she will be driving and the President of the United States and then maybe dating.

And all along the way she's going to look to us for guidance. She's going to expect us to be there when she has questions or discovers new things. We get to go through this journey again through the completely innocent eyes of someone who doesn't even know what funny means. Her Bill Murray onesie is just comfortable, she has no idea how great it is. She knows she likes it when we make funny sounds, startle her, make noises with her and laugh at her, but she doesn't really know what it means. (OR DOES SHE!?!?!) Everything changes every day. She picks up on something new, learns a little bit more, does a little bit more and at least now she knows that we have a dog, her name is Daisy and she is hilarious.

Two Months of Mabel

It’s been quite some time since I made an appearance on the baby blog partially because, toward the end of pregnancy and in the first few weeks of Mabel’s life, the exhaustion didn’t allow for complete thoughts let alone complete sentences but mostly because I look forward to reading what Thomas writes about the life as the Chews know it. He makes me laugh and cry and realize and appreciate even more than I do already. That being said, I thought I’d take a stab at recapping our last month with Mabel.  Can you believe she’s already 2 months old? Neither can we!

I could make this blog entry very short and summarize with this: Whoever is in charge of dictating the ways of the universe must have been very happy with Thomas and me on the day that sperm met egg and Mabel’s temperament was decided. Maybe it’s because we are avid recyclers or perhaps it’s because Thomas helped an old woman across the street that day. Either way, the universe gave us the most even keeled, easy going, predictable (as much as a 2 month old could possibly be), amazing, full cheeked baby ever to be born. We realize that we are the luckiest new parents in the world and we haven’t, for a second, taken it for granted. I’m sure whenever we decide to make Mabel a sibling, the same universe dictator will take notice that I left the water running when I brushed my teeth or that Thomas sped on the way to work that morning and we will be granted a colicky, non-sleeper…and we will love that baby just as much as we love Mabel. Except maybe a little less because Mabel is Ah-Maze-Ing! (Sorry, non-existent future fussy baby)

So that could be the short version. But instead of leaving you with that, I’m going to give you excessive details about the 5 weeks since Thomas last posted.

We’ve learned that the go-to question asked to all new parents is, you guessed it, “How is the baby sleeping?”  Everyone wants to know. I’m not sure if it’s a primitive desire because it’s an instinctive behavior or because other parents want to compare their experiences to yours. It’s interesting.  In Mabel’s case, the answer to that question is… amazingly. In fact, she sleeps so well that she out sleeps me now. I have officially repaid the debt of sleep that I accumulated during weeks 39-41 of pregnancy and weeks 1-7 of Mabel’s life on earth. We’ve tried to be as consistent as possible in our nightly bedtime routine. Sometimes we get all pieces in, other nights she’s more tired and things get left out. We aim for something that looks like this: bath (the girl can spash!), pajamas, and storytime. Then we set the mood with high heat, low lights and a sound machine; she eats once more and dozes off to dream land in her bassinet. We’ve done some variation of this routine since the second day she was home. I can’t tell you for sure if it’s responsible for her sleeping through the night at 2 months (yep! THROUGH THE NIGHT!) but I can tell you that it certainly hasn’t hurt matters. Since she doesn’t seem to need me in the middle of the night anymore, Thomas and I (and the pediatrician) talked about it being a good time to transition her into her big girl crib. The thought of this makes me very, VERY sad but I suppose I’m going to have to start letting go little by little at some point, right? I wish she would stay my tiny baby forever but I also look forward to her one day becoming a strong independent woman. I bet Hilary Clinton didn’t sleep in her parents’ room after she was sleeping all night long. I need to let Mabel grow!

Speaking of growing, another question we get often is “How much does Mabel weigh?” Again, not sure if it’s a primal desire to know because in ancient times size was correlated to health (or wealth) or if people just have a common curiosity regarding baby sizing. Either way, Mabel is a big girl. I find this humorous for a few reasons. 1) Because Mabel had the doctors in a tizz at the end of pregnancy because she was “small”, measuring in the 20 something percentile. And we had extra monitoring because of it.  2) Because I am not a large person, in fact I am a very small person and Thomas is a very average sized person.  Mabel’s birth weight ended up being only slightly below average (6lbs, 13oz if you need a refresher since that blog entry) but her striking ability to gain weight was first noticed when she had regained the 6oz she lost in the hospital in a day and a half (doctors allow babies 2 weeks to gain this back without being worried) and she’s continued to grow at an (almost) alarming rate since then! At her 2 month appointment she weighed 12.5lbs bumping the little peanut up to the 84^th percentile. I like to take credit for making milk with superpowers but in reality it’s more likely that the cheeks she inherited from her father push her up the ranking. It seems that she’s probably inherited my gene for height though since she ranked in the 37^th here... 22 inches of pure, smooshable chub. It’s okay that she’s probably not going to be tall. Thomas and I decided that we’d rather her be a dedicated soccer player than a die-hard b-baller anyway (Mabel- if you read this, we will whole heartedly support anything you do, even if that means you’re the short chick on the basketball team).

So that’s that. Mabel is awesome. She smiles all the time. She loves being naked. She loves riding in the car (usually), taking baths, laying on the changing table and long walks on the beach. She adores her Dad and gives him huge smiles and coos when she sees him at the end of the work day. Her eye contact is unbreakable and she always wins a staring contest. She loves being sung to and read to. When you talk to her, she looks right back at you to let you know that she’s listening to your every word. She’s a trooper at getting immunizations (we decided to have her get them on a slow schedule).  She enjoys sucking and we have finally convinced her that a binky is an acceptable alternative to the real deal. She does NOT love (or even like) “tummy time” but she still has remarkable head control and no longer needs help to support it, even with the weight of those cheeks! (sorry Mabel, Mama will lay off of the cheek jokes now)

Being in the parent club is fantastic. Before we had Mabel I was sure that I already had a pretty good idea about what it would be like to be a parent because I have a fair amount of experience and education in the children department. I. WAS. WRONG. Sure, I might have already known which sippy cup is more prone to leaking or the importance of phonemic awareness in early literacy development but I had no idea that there was room in my heart for so much more love, that it was possible to cry so many tears of joy, or that it was rational to be so irrationally petrified and excited to see what the future has in store. 

Four Weeks of Mabel

So it's been four weeks with Mabel hanging out. A lot of that happens, actually, a lot of hanging out. The first week and a half at least, maybe still to some degree, there was a lot of sitting around, looking at a small child breathe and pretending she smiles on purpose or says words like "hiccup" or since she can already put her hand in her mouth (excellent hand eye coordination, obviously) she is almost definitely going to be a surgeon or professional jai alai player.

She's probably much more likely to brew or drink Jai Alai IPA... after surgery

Anyways, I thought I'd share some of the lessons we've learned or general things that have popped up or into my mind since she has been taking over the Chew house.

Making plans is a great way to completely waste your time:

Mabel, and I'm guessing babies in general, don't care about your plans at all. They're on their own schedule and you serve them unconditionally.  There are a couple ways to look at this.

1. Prepping and planning at your house beforehand is essential. It's great to have an idea of where everything is and how you're going to live your every day life. Then you need to be willing and able to completely throw all those plans out the window and do whatever else works.
2. Flexibility in general has been the key to any sort of minor success we've had. At first we were trying pre-planned bedtime routines. "We'll do bath, skin on skin, eat, then she'll be so tired she'll definitely sleep for 3 hours." "Okay, that didn't work. We'll try an hour earlier, no bath, three stories, if she sleeps for 3 hours three times in a row we can take turns staying up with her when she's not eating." "Okay, let's just hang out and see what happens." It really just doesn't work. Every night is something completely different.
3. Everyone wants to meet the baby, but that also requires plan making. It really isn't easy. You would think that dealing with an infant who eats, sleeps, and pees would be easy to plan around. You, my friend, would be wrong. We learned a couple things about having visitors. 
1. If you don't sleep the night before, and all you want is for the baby to sleep tonight, you start worrying about any distractions, including guests. We don't know if we want guests, because if she's sleeping, we don't want to disturb her.
2. Germs are terrifying. Our friends have been great and even a random small cough has stopped them from coming over, which was great because Tim ended up having Strep. So now we assume everyone has strep and you're all trying to hurt our baby... just kidding.

People react very differently to all things baby:

This one is natural. Peoples' comfort levels with new born babies varies wildly. That makes sense, but you'd be surprised where it comes from sometimes.

People who have babies are sometimes nervous around babies.
People who have never been around babies typically look like they are about to hold a live grenade or nuclear device.
The words "breast milk" can make people cringe. Not even the act of breastfeeding, but whatever it is about breasts and milk and a babies need for nutrition sometimes scares the shit out of people. I find this one a little humorous sometimes, on the basest level I get it. Where do I look? What if I see a boob? I don't know what to do!!!

It's okay, it really is. Jenna's not pulling the puppies out all over town and swingin' em around for the world to see. Mabel needs to eat. Act totally normal. The situation is... totally... normal.

Which brings me to-

Ask questions:

A lot of people seem to be scared of new born babies or new parents. We've heard a lot of assuming and seen a lot of deer in headlights looks. Our friend Brian is probably best at this, he asks questions about everything. EVERYTHING! It's been great actually. We love sharing this experience. We've written thousands of words about it, we're not shy individuals. If you're wondering, ask us. If it's too private or we're not comfortable sharing, we'll let you know and it's not a big deal, but in general, we're new at this too! We're learning so much every day. Jenna reads baby blogs and websites constantly and teaches me something new and awesome every day.

It's like when I read a new article online or in a magazine and it's so interesting that I want to tell people right away (like it's an original story or something that no one else could have read... did you know DC wanted Ben Affleck to direct and star as Batman in the potential Justice League movie?!?!)

And if you haven't come over to see Mabel yet, or if we've talked about it and it just hasn't happened, keep asking. I'm really sorry, to be honest. Since I've gone back to work, which sucked by the way, I get home and I just want to spend time with the baby and give Jenna a little break. I think we've only had one visitor in the two weeks I've been back to work and that is totally my fault. Selfish dad... not ashamed. We want you to meet Mabel, we want you to love her as much as we do... we're pretty sure you will seeing as she's perfect and all.

Convenient Transition-

A little something about love:

I'm a decent writer. I get a kick out of it. I tend to write exactly how I talk and how I think, often more eloquently since sometimes I think too fast and end up just blabbering away (oh shit, I do that when I write too... NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!)

Anyways... I started writing four or five different times yesterday. I wanted to write something sincere and straight forward about how much our lives have changed. How much better they are since Mabel has been a part of them. How much love and joy we've felt. It hasn't all been roses and butterflies between Jenna and I or between our own personal neuroses and insecurities, but when it comes to Mabel herself, there aren't words to describe how intoxicating, hypnotic, and joyous she is. After the worst nights of not sleeping, arguing with each other over the dumbest things, and feeling like absolute trash all it takes is one look or one little baby breath or sigh or sleeping giggle and it's like nothing ever happened.

Time doesn't exist when you're in love like this. At its best it feels like it is standing still. When she catches your eye and just stares through you, your heart stops beating and you never want that moment to end. At its worst four weeks have gone by in a blink leaving elation and utter happiness in its wake. I feel like an addict, telling myself every day is a new beginning. I take it one step at a time, knowing the lessons I've learned from the days gone by and knowing above all that I don't know anything at all. It's terrifying. It grips my heart and rips apart my insides to even imagine my life without that love. This unconditional, evolving, growing, educational love that has brought me to tears and makes me smile differently than I've ever smiled before. It makes me thank Jenna every day for bringing her into our lives and when I see how she looks at our little bean, I fall in love with her too. Every single day. I wanted to type that it was just like the first time I fell in love with her, but it's so much more than that and so much better. I have the deepest appreciation and sincerest sense of awe for who she is, what we have done together, and how much we need each other.

I've written a lot about friends and family and how great the world we've made for ourselves is. Four weeks ago I didn't know what love was. I had no idea how to live my life until right now. I'm so insignificant to the grand scheme, but right now, at this point in time I'm truly needed. I have this opportunity to shape a life and I plan on seizing it. And I never plan on stopping until Mabel is safer, happier, smarter, kinder, gentler, more confident, and better than I've ever wanted to be in every way I've ever imagined. A lot of things about being a new parent are scary, but that's not one of them. It might seem like a tall order, but it isn't, that is the only thing I've been absolutely sure of since she has joined us... my job will never be done and that job is making her world a little better than it was the day before. I know it's easy, because she can't even roll over and she does it for me every single day.

She's Here!!! A Prologue... probably a long one

Since we started this blog I knew the story of Mabel joining us would be part of the story. I've been looking forward to it in fact. Throughout the pregnancy I've debated, should I go funny? Sincere? Sweet? All the gritty details?

They say you never really know what it's like being a parent until you are one. Ridiculous, I thought, many of my friends are idiots who have needed taking care of most of their lives. I was that guy. I come from a big family, I've been around babies my whole life, I can do this. I have a dog. I have plants. My car's oil is routinely changed, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I hope you can see that at this point in my life, three days after baby Mabel Jayne Chew lit the match that blew up my world (and my mind), I have an appreciation for some of the things "they" say.

The first indication that we weren't quite sure what was coming our way was Wednesday afternoon. I was begrudgingly still going to work every day (like a chump), which was not fun at all. It killed me to be 40 minutes away when Jenna could go into labor at any second. It killed my co-workers as well. I could hear them as they walked down the hall that last week in a half. The hope:"Is his door open? I hope he's not here." The disappointment: "He's still here. Ahhh man!" People not wanting me around has never made me feel so loved.

Jenna had been having contractions for weeks. They came. They were gone. They became more frequent, increasingly painful, and at points very time-able. The text Wednesday afternoon around 3 had me in the car and on my way to Jenna, who was surely having the baby that night!

The next couple hours were a frenzy of phone calls to the doctors office, installing contraction timer apps, and anxiously awaiting what was next. The books, the apps, the birthing class and even the doctor said when contractions were timeable at 5 minutes for an hour it was time, so we were on our way!

Jenna was in pain. The pain was getting worse and the contractions were slowly getting closer together. When the woman checking us in asked Jenna if there were a million dollars in dimes on the ground right now, would she still be able to pick them up we should have known something was up. The answer was no, but our contractions were five minutes apart and it had been, like, an hour and a half at this point. This baby was on its way!

They were very nice to humor us. A couple of examinations (Jenna had been 3.5 cm dilated for a few days at that point) showed we hadn't progressed that much beyond where we had been the day before. Jenna rated her pain, on the ridiculously ridiculous scale of 0 being no pain to 10 being surgery without anesthesia (who could possibly know that?) at a 5 or a 6. They sent us walking the floor for an hour to see if anything progressed further. An hour later it really hadn't that much. Jenna's contractions still hurt pretty damn bad, they were 3-4 minutes apart at this point so we thought for sure this baby was on its way.

Two Tylenol PM and a car ride home later, we were instructed to get a good nights sleep and check back in in 24 hours. The contractions persisted, but the medicine did its job. We slept on the couch with Daisy that night, sure it would be just a nap before we had to go back. "We would know" when they were different and when to come back. They assured us she was fine, the baby was fine, and she was on her way, but at her own pace.

The morning came and my back still hasn't forgiven me. The one good thing is the contractions had changed and the 6 from Wednesday evening was a joke compared to the 6 of Thursday morning. We didn't want to be sent home again, so we hung out at home. Jenna swayed on the exercise ball and breathed through contractions for a couple hours. I had a piece of peanut butter toast and Jenna had some juice and half a piece of dry toast. The future regrets were already mounting up. We were back in triage by 10:15am.

The three extensive and painful contractions Jenna experienced while checking in got us right back to a bed in triage. At around 11am contractions were 3 minutes apart, significantly more painful, and Jenna was still 3.5 cm. Pushing 4 though!! They still considered this early labor and I started to feel like they were going to ship us back home once again.

Mabel started moving a lot and we quipped that maybe one of her movements would break Jenna's water and get the show on the road. That was just about when the monitor started beeping and our nurse, Ann, a trucker mouthed saint of a woman, and a couple of residents rushed in. Mabel's heart rate had dropped so they needed to do another exam. Oh god.

Boom! or Splash!!! Splash is more accurate.

We should have bought a lottery ticket, because there it was. Jenna's water broke and they were stuck with us! We merrily skipped to room 308, ready to get this done, let's have a baby! (I remember the skipping, but I seem to be the only one). I think it was around noon.

I warned you this was going to be long. Allow me to "push" through the next five hours. Get it... push through the next five hours. "Labor" with me here, my humor might not "dilate" your eyes, but it should at least give you something to... hmmm... contract. (I ran out of birthing puns)

I mentioned Ann. Those five hours were spent with contractions 2-3 minutes apart varying in severity. Ann taught us a lot. Jenna liked her, she was very supportive, but in retrospect I give her a large majority of the credit for getting me through the experience. She gave me a lot of confidence. She didn't worry. She was extremely protective of Jenna as well as our labor plan, and she offered both advice, support, and got us all the lemon ice and orange Jell-O I could feed Jenna. She also made a mean fruit punch.

We were in a rhythm. It was getting physically more demanding, but Jenna was rock solid. She wasn't opposed to drugs or an epidural, she had just decided to try as long as she could without and if she needed them, then she would get them. From the exercise ball, to sway dancing together, to holding onto the bed, each contraction came and went, but we hadn't made much more progress. After her water broke, we jumped from 3.5 to 6 cm and at 5pm Jenna was 100% effaced.

Up to then, the doctors wanted to keep Jenna on monitors and confined to the 8 feet her cords stretched due to some high blood pressure issues she had throughout pregnancy. Though, another thing I didn't understand was they always talked about it like it was an issue, but as soon as they put her on meds she consistently had text book perfect blood pressure... anywho.

Garret, the resident from Wednesday night, was back as the shift change approached. He won Ann's respect by suggesting we get off the monitors and get Jenna in the jacuzzi. Yes! That had been one of our goals the entire time. Nightly baths had kept Jenna calm and cool for most of the third trimester. The water was running and the jacuzzi portion of the tub was broken, but it was a welcome change and a relief.

It was 7pm at this point and Ann said we were in good hands. She had picked Laura out to replace her, because she thought she would be a good match. It's amazing how close you get to someone when they are helping you through an intense situation. I didn't think there was any way Laura could come close to being as helpful as Ann. I'm very proud to say I was wrong.

The bath was relaxing, but the contractions started to increase both in intensity and pain. Our rhythm wasn't exactly working anymore and Jenna was in a whole new level of pain. I'd say Wednesday's 6 was a weak 4... max. Around 8:15pm our doctor, Dr. Morningstar (whom we hadn't really met, but has a badass name and seemed very pleasant) came in to do a check herself. Still 6cm and 100%. She also found another pocket of waters she was going to break and see if we could get things moving.

Breaking the rest of the bag of water did a couple things.

1. It revealed meconium (Mabel had pooped in utero) which can be dangerous if inhaled or swallowed (high concentrations of ammonia). At the very least the Pediatric Special Care Unit would be present for the birth, potentially having to whisk her away.
2. It made (at least led to) an already painful beginning to hurt like a mother. Jenna made her best decision since marrying me. Epidural me!

The contractions were intense, but Laura, our new nurse, was quickly becoming a good friend. She was positive, bright, shiny, sarcastic, and joked her way through incredibly succinct and "user friendly" explanations. She had an excellently witty repertoire with the Anesthesiologist and our luck briefly started to change. Jenna's contractions were on a steady wave pattern at this point, coming between 45 seconds and 2 minutes apart. She endured two monsters while the epidural was being administered. (this wasn't the lucky part)

In explaining what the epidural would do and feel like the doctor said it would take away most pain and still feel like uncomfortable pressure. Either Jenna or Laura compared it to Braxton-Hicks contractions... if you're still reading this beast you probably know what those are. If you are still reading and do not, you must be one of our very best friends or family members and we love you back, so much! About 2% of the time, he said, the epidural worked overtime and the patient wouldn't feel a thing. That's where the luck came in. By 9pm the epidural was in and Jenna was chillin. No pain, feeling relaxed, feeling like a million bucks.

Luckier still was the relief provided by the epidural also got things moving again. Jenna was 7.5 cm dilated and moving along like gangbusters. Everyone told us how great of a job they were doing. Basically the entire hospital staff told us how impressive Jenna was and how great she was doing.
By around 11:15pm Jenna was fully dilated and they started making arrangements. There was no rush. Since she had the epidural and couldn't feel the pressure or contractions, her body was doing some great work for her. They call this laboring down. It's basically just waiting to push even after you're ready to go to make it that much easier when it comes to pushing time.

Jenna's great grandmother's name was Jayne (where we got Mabel's middle name) and her birthday was January 10th, so we were hopeful that they would share birthdays. Laura and Garret thought there was a chance, but the time came and went. Jenna started feeling the pressure from the really big contractions and we started talking about what pushing would be like with the epidural. Laura talked about practice pushes and getting a hang of it before we really got into it. Not necessary. Jenna started pushing around 12:45am and her first push was identical to her last.

So this is the part I was scared of. I didn't have time to be too scared of anything else. But this was the moment of truth. I wasn't planning on watching. I was worried it would freak me out or I'd be the guy who passed out or that aliens would break in and I would be too busy defending the room to helpfully contribute. To be honest in that situation I didn't know what I was scared of, but I was definitely scared. Looking back I was terrified the entire day... more on that a little later. But when we started, like really started, there was no looking back. I averted my eyes until they mentioned hair. I had no idea what I was looking at until more and more of Mabel's head could be seen and Laura was curling her long filthy hair around her fingers.

There she was... just a few inches of her, but there she was! Slowly but surely, which should have been our motto for the day, she was getting closer and closer. Dr. Morningstar sauntered in with the Special Care unit close behind her. She smiled, said hello and went to work. At 1:32am on January 11, 2013 Mabel followed her abundant, long curly hair into the world.

There was no cutting the cord. There was not dirty baby right to mommas chest and there was no ceremony. Instead we were honored with a stunning display of care and precision. Dr. Morningstar and Garret went to work making sure Jenna was okay, hands moving like lightning. Pure concentration in their faces. A bomb could have gone off and they wouldn't have flinched. Laura was on make sure Jenna and I are okay duty. Killed it. And the Special Care Unit had Mabel. She was making some noise, but nothing significant. They were furiously clearing her chest, throat and eventually stomach. They washed her up and she was wide awake and beautiful when I was told I could go take pictures and say hello.

I'm not sure I can explain how something can be both heart breaking and breath taking and perfect all rolled up. "They" say it changes you and you'll never be the same, but "they" don't know what the hell they're talking about. It's so much more than that. It's the prettiest bus in the world nailing you at 60, but instead of liquifying you from the inside out, it liquifies you from the outside in. I was, I am, I'm scared I am destined to forever be just that. Liquified. I am putty in her tiny little hands... I really hope she never asks for a pony, because that shit will be roaming our back yard within hours.

Back to the story.

They told us they had to take Mabel, but they let us hold her and be with her for a few minutes beforehand. Watching them walk away was wretched, but I was focused on Jenna and we were sharing the awe of the day.

First Family Photo.

Mabel was with the Special Care Unit, but they insisted she was doing better and would be back soon. The main parts of Jenna's business were done, but when Laura and the residents checked to see if the bleeding was subsiding, there was no clotting, and Jenna's uterus was tightening and firming up there was more blood than they liked to see. Every five to ten minutes they would come back and check again. They tried three different medicines, but just about every third check there was a significant amount of bleeding. It just wasn't stopping and eventually they gave her half an hour to stop bleeding before she had to go to the operating room. During this time Laura did an amazing job at handling our distress. She was honest, but positive and supportive. A new handful of residents were on our case and they couldn't figure it out. Dr. Morningstar was back to take over.

A brief ray of light allowed me to take Danielle (Jenna's sister, who, along with their dad, was there for the long haul) to the Special Care Unit to visit Mabel. Once we were there, the next best surprise allowed us to take her back to the room where Jenna was able to feed her and spend some time before she had to go in for surgery.

This is where the story could get really sad and scary and I could tell you about the feelings of helplessness and terror, but I won't. So many thing could go wrong, and a lot did. Mabel struggled to regulate her temperature. There was a 24 hour period of potential blood transfusion that stuck with each of us. I didn't have any news about or from Jenna for way too long, but eventually and sooner than later, we were in our recovery room as a family. Dr. Morningstar had found a floating piece of placenta hanging out stealing Jenna's blood. It was removed and Jenna was in recovery. Mabel needed some formula and a heat lamp and she was good to go. If you count our trip Wednesday, Jenna was in labor for around 34 hours. I don't. I count the trip in Thursday morning, which still added up to a long 15.5 hours. (Authors Note: Reading this part five years later made me squirm. Jenna did the work, I was her support. It all hurt, it was all part of it, it all counts. Sorry about that. - TC) None of which moved more slowly than when they took Mabel and Jenna away and the clock stopped.

In retrospect, the day flew by. It just kept happening and there wasn't any time to think about anything but taking care of Jenna and hoping for the best. Jenna's pain, Mabel's struggle, my fear and anxiety  paid off in spades (never understood what that saying meant). Both Jenna and Mabel were very closely monitored. Jenna had lost a lot of blood and they were worried that might effect her milk coming in. I went back and forth fetching food, drinks and whatever else we needed for the next two days. I saw a dozen new moms in their hospital gowns pushing their screaming babies through the hall. By the 11th hour in our room, my wife was in her yoga pants and my daughter was calmly feeding and barely shedding a tear.

They kept checking Jenna's blood counts and bleeding. It was better than anyone could have hoped for. When she asked about a shower or getting out of bed they looked at her like she was crazy. They warned her of becoming light headed, doing too much, and kept asking how much pain she was in. We cruelly mocked them as Jenna did jumping jacks in the shower... just kidding. But she did shower, she did walk around, Mabel regulated the shit out of her temperature, and we won the award for breast feeding on the floor. (I use the term we loosely, of course, but I doubt they could have done so well if I hadn't made such good fruit punch in the nurses kitchen juice machine.)

Picgtured: Regulating Temperature
First outfit competition: Winner - Katie and Ben

If you're going to have a baby anywhere in this world, I highly suggest you come to Rochester and choose Highland Hospital. We ended up with five different nurses. None better than Laura (who stayed with Jenna throughout the entire operating room procedure even though her shift ended an hour beforehand), Ann (who, like I said, was the perfect way to start our birthing experience) and Becky (our last nurse whose friendly smile, vigilant nonchalance, and casual explanations made the last day in the hospital feel like a hotel stay).

We could argue the semantics of it, but I know, without a doubt, that within the walls of that hospital Jenna and I each became different people. Better people. We no longer had to speak to a belly, Mabel was with us and we were a family. I almost just typed I wouldn't have had it any other way, but that's ridiculous. I would have loved to avoid all of the speed bumps we encountered, but that wasn't the case and we got through it. We got through it stronger than we went into it and we got through it together. Just like we will for the rest of our lives as a family. Jenna, Mabel, Thomas and even Daisy... and if you're still reading this, you too. Anyone who makes it through this much of my rambling must love us enough to be family and we thank you. Thanks for letting me share this story and thank you for being part of our lives... and Mabel, whenever you read this, ten, fifteen, twenty years from now, I just want to say Hi Mabel, it's your dad. I love you.

Nothing better.

Today's the Day!

Today's the day they told us to use as a mark of which day could be the day, but we still really don't know!

So we're still here. We're on the couch hanging out this morning. I just remembered that I made coffee about an hour ago and I forgot to get some. Be right back.

So the last week and a half has been tough.

Tough is a relative term, by the way. A week and a half ago we had an appointment that told us that Mabel is growing really well, she's moving great, we saw a new 3D ultrasound picture and got to see her perfect chubby little cheeks, and ever since we thought that day was the day! The growing healthy baby is the relative part, the constantly thinking the baby is going to be here is the tough part.

We sat around for three days because we knew... for sure, we knew, that she was coming!

When she didn't it was hard, for me at least, to get back into a groove. I didn't want to go back to work, I wanted to watch my baby sleep. No such luck, not yet at least.

One thing my anxiousness needs to remember, which was pointed out by a beautifully loving message from our friend Emily this morning, is that she will be here soon enough and everything will be different.

Jenna has been a rock star. She is calm, cool, confident. She still feels pretty good overall, but we're at the point where we're ready for pregnancy to transition to parenthood (I think, I mean, are you ever ready? If a tree falls in the forest... etc. etc. etc.).


So here we are.
We're together, trying to keep busy and trying to be there for each other, but in all honesty there isn't anything we can do. So we've been watching a lot of movies, which is awesome for me, but probably really boring for Jenna. Though we have seen some great movies in the last week, Beasts of the Southern Wild was fantastic.

Wow, this blog is all over the place. When I started typing I wanted to to accomplish a couple things.

1. Let everyone know we're doing alright, and no, Mabel isn't here, we'll let you know as soon as she is.
2. Give some insight on the waiting process; the anxiously, painfully, frighteningly, hilariously helpless waiting feeling.
3. Express my true appreciation for all the messages, texts, phone calls, and comments we've received from friends and family.

So let me get into that. For the entire pregnancy really, but most notably in the last week, our friends and family have shown us so much love. We've each written about it, I've tried to express my feelings openly, make sure everyone knew how much it meant. But in the last week it has gotten out of control! Seriously though, here I am, anxious, nervous, just trying not to go crazy with wonder and there are dozens and dozens of people feeling, at least partially, the same way on behalf of us and our little girl.

Man, none of this is coming out right, but I'm going to keep typing.

Every day we've had a large handful of people wondering how Jenna is feeling, how we're doing, if we're ready. We have received loving advice, hopeful encouragement, equally anxious tips for getting her here faster.

It is overwhelming to be so personally engrossed in this process and then to take a minute to look at the world around us and see all these people who care just as much as we do. Some are friends we rarely see or get the opportunity to speak with, but they're there thinking about us and providing support and advice. Someday, probably in a month or two, Mabel will sit down in front of the computer and read this blog. Okay, maybe a year or two.

It's ridiculous, meandering posts like this that I think she'll appreciate. Anytime I write, but particularly when I write for this blog and for Mabel I hope to provide some insight on either who I am and how I think or simply a different way of looking at things.

This time, this blog, (which could be a huge mess I end up deleting... I don't really proof read or edit until it's already published) I wanted anyone who reads this and eventually Mabel to know how much it means for the world to be so vocally supportive. Not just with us, the baby, and this situation, but in general, we're all better off when someone sincerely shows love or appreciation.

So thanks everyone.

She isn't here yet, but she'll be here soon. We live in a shit world where a lot of terrible things happen, but it makes me feel pretty damn good that we're bringing Mabel into this world surrounded by people who are going to teach her to openly love and be loved.

Thanks

Hi Mabel, it's your dad.

I have written quite a bit today and I have been very reflective lately. I've been thinking about you and how I can become the best father possible. I don't ever want to lie to you (except when it comes to holiday themed magical figures, but that is more of a fib and traditional moral compass than anything) so I don't mind saying that between the bouts of joy and excitement, I get scared here and there.

It worries me sometimes, but in general I am thankful for my fear. Fear is a secondary emotion and, if we are willing to do so, it makes us question what else we are feeling that makes us scared. In this case I am feeling pure unadulterated love. I love you so much. I love your mom and our family and, as a human, it scares me to love something to that heightened degree.

It's such a good thing though and when I stop to think about it, like right now it makes me so happy. I love you so much that I look at the world around me with more wonder. Sometimes, like last night, I imagine you experiencing for the first time. Last night it was the thought of you eating ice cream. Your mom and ice cream are basically BFF's and I definitely enjoy hanging out with ice cream every once in a while, but the thought and idea of how much you're probably going to love it is just so much fun. I find myself looking at random things and smiling just because I can't wait for you to go there, eat that, play those games, read those books, watch those movies, or write your first blog.

I am so very thankful for you already. Even before you were a part of our lives (which is hard to imagine and even difficult to remember) I was trying to be the best person I could be. Questioning the things that needed to be questioned. Living an active live with purpose and reason. Then you came along and all of that became so much more fun, more real, and more important. We are going to learn so much together! We are going to play so many games and have so many conversations about ridiculous and ridiculously important things!

Your momma and I are ready, as ready as we're going to be at least! I love feeling you move and kick and roll and hearing your heart beat and seeing little amorphous pictures of you. I love that you have already helped me appreciate my life and yours and your moms and how you're already teaching me a whole new version and meaning of living and loving.

If I don't say it enough when you are around, remind me to thank your mom for everything she did, does and will do. I guarantee you that a second doesn't go by when she isn't thinking of you and trying to take care of you now. She's already the best mom and I am so thankful to have her as a partner in this parenting thing. She's taught me so much already and I can't wait for her to teach you even more.

I love you. We love you. Thank you for being ours and I hope we make you happy and proud to be yours.

Third and final trimester

Estimated Due Date: January 6, 2013

Pregnancy: 28 weeks, 5 days- THIRD Trimester!

The baby is as big as: A Chinese cabbage

Weight gain: 16.5lbs of pure baby, baby!

Baby bump: Oh yeah! The bump measured exactly 28 centimeters at our 28 week appointment on Wednesday which is right on track.

 

How am I feeling?  Quite a bit has changed since the last update at 17 weeks. I still feel fabulous with all things considered but space is starting to get a bit crowed these days. Some days I feel like I can conquer the world and other days even showering seems like an impossible mission. Heartburn has become a daily battle and Thomas’ delicious stuffed Hungarian peppers and the 5lbs of Halloween candy currently in our house don’t exactly prevent the onset of it. I could also complain about the overall aches and pains of pregnancy- the ones that have turned my youthful body into one that feels 15 times its age. But really, if you reallllly want to know how I feel… I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve bursting with overwhelming thoughts of the unknown. Sure, I feel very pregnant at times but it doesn’t for a second take away from how thankful and thrilled I am to be working towards the new best chapter of my life. As I was lying in bed last night trying to fall asleep, with 4 pillows wedged around me and a baby flipping around my belly, I couldn’t stop thinking about how unbelievably excited I am. The anticipation reminds me of the feeling I used to have on Christmas Eve as I imagined what was inside of all those carefully wrapped packages under the tree. Much like I couldn’t wait for the unveiling of Santa’s surprises, I am bursting at the seams with wonder and anticipation about all of the characteristics of the best gift ever. What will she look like? Whose nose will she have? Will she have tiny ringlets or will she rock a bowl-cut until she’s 10? Will she love Bruce Springsteen as much as her Dad? Is she going to start talking at 9 months and never stop like her Mom? My thoughts are always going about the what-ifs of her life to come and it makes me feel this amazing feeling that I’ve never felt before. And even if she hates Bruce, has straight platinum blonde hair, and doesn’t say her first word until she’s 7, I’ll still feel the same way.

What am I craving? I like to say that my uncontrollable urge to eat all kinds of starchy pumpkin flavored foods is pregnancy related but the realist in me thinks it probably has more to do with Fall in Western New York. Doughnuts, pumpkin pie, cookies, all baked goods in general, hot chocolate, cooked squashes… fall foods are amazing.

Interesting/Noteworthy events of the week:

Thomas and I got a handful of fun stats and info about Baby Chew at our 28 week appointment on Wednesday that are worth noting.

Weight: 2.6lbs. This puts her in the 33^rd percentile which is no surprise given the gene pool she’s pulling from (Sorry baby, you probably won’t be a basketball all-star!). Since she’s a tad on the small side, she’ll be monitored a little more closely to make sure she’s putting on the pounds at a steady rate.

Heart rate: 144 beats per minute, which is perfectly average.

Position: Although this can change at any minute, baby C is currently laying with her head on my right hip, her toes in my left rib cage and her tiny back pressed into my diaphragm. It explains so much about how I feel.

Abilities: Baby Chew put on quite the show for us during the ultrasound, which to our surprise was 3D! Within a span of just a few minutes we saw her blink, stick her tongue out, rub her face, and curl up to fall back asleep. There are no words in the world that can explain how absolutely amazing that was to see.

We also asked the ultrasound tech to confirm the sex for us,  just in case. 

She’s still a girl.