I’m not sure how else to say this other than to be direct – Floyd has botulism. Or at least they’re 99% certain Floyd has botulism. Actual confirmation will take at least another week.

We’ve been in the hospital now for almost a week. Tomorrow we get transferred to a rehabilitation hospital. Neo natal botulism (the official name for it) is not fatal; it just takes really, really long to recover from. Quickie explanation — it’s a spore found in soil; when it gets turned up it gets in the air and can settle on something or just float right into someone’s mouth. It’s toxic only to babies under 1, and more specifically under 6 months. It’s very rare — only 100 cases a year in the entire U.S. Basically it kills the receptors for your nerve endings making muscle function impossible. To recover, she has to actually regrow those receptors.

You’ve probably heard people tell you not to give babies honey. That is the only known way to protect against botulism. But the funny part is that’s only responsible for a tiny fraction of botulism cases. For the majority, they have no idea how it was caused. No we did not give Floyd honey.

If you’re stunned, you can only imagine how I felt standing in the pediatrician’s office expecting her to tell me my daughter had a cold only to hear “I think it’s botulism. Unfortunately this will need to be sorted out in the hospital.” If you want a good time, have your child escorted out of the doctor’s office by an EMT into a waiting ambulance during the prime time — right after school. That was fun.

For the first two days Blue and I felt like we were in the Twilight Zone. We couldn’t wrap our heads around it — how, why, when, what??? There were tests upon tests — including a spinal tap — a parade of specialists and sleepless nights as Floyd’s oxygen level dipped and nurses and doctors came running in the room suctioning mucus out of her nose and talking about the possibility of putting her on a breathing tube.

I agonized over the type of crib to get her, the mattress to use, how warm to keep her room, what I should be doing to encourage her at each step of development and the kid gets botulism. What the hell do you say to that?

I won’t get into the whole progression or all the ins and outs of the disease because I don’t have the time or energy. Basically the gist is, she stopped eating. Now we have to relearn everything. We’re being told that PA is the 2nd highest state in the country for botulism cases. This hospital has seen five since May and coincidentally there’s another baby in here with the same thing right now (that’s why they did the spinal tap). They are going to be roommates in the rehab hospital. As rare as it is, this area seems to have a lot of cases.

The antidote (I cannot believe antidote has become a regular part of my vocabulary) had to be rushed via plane from California and escorted by a courier, over night. Since then we’ve seem amazing improvement. But there’s still a lot to go. At the rehab hospital, she’ll get more intensive care. We’re hoping only a week more in hospital before we can return home.

So far every doctor (and there’s been a few — speech pathologist, neurologist, physical therapist, occupational therapist, hematologist, infectious disease control, respiratory therapy, critical care pediatrician) has been impressed with her progress and all think she’s improving greatly.

The good, good, super good news is, it’s a completely recoverable disease. She should get right back to where she was with no delays in development and no permanent damage. As the doctor said, if she was going to get a disease, this is the one to have.

It’s just absolutely mind blowing. Somehow she breathed this in from who knows where. One minute my little girl is learning to shake a rattle and the next the department of public health is calling to “just ask a few questions.”

Did I mention that today is my birthday? Last year, I was recovering from a chemical pregnancy and attending a baby shower, this year I have my baby girl and am waiting out her recovery. Next year I’m shooting for being at home with a mild cold.

Bottom line is, Floyd is doing well and is expected to fully recover. That’s the most important thing. All of the scary moments are hopefully behind us.

As I wrote in the beginning, this is probably not the update you were expecting.

I feel like I swallowed fish hooks. There’s an overbearing feeling of depression and dread, which  makes one hell of a cocktail. I’m trying to shake it off so I can enjoy these last few days. I don’t want them to speed away. Blue is home this week, which makes it even better. He asked me if I wanted to take a day or afternoon away to myself. Are you kidding me??? Come one week I’m going to be away all the time. I’m trying to soak up every second I have left.

As far as my plan, it’s not exactly what I wanted. My big boss will only approve two days a week at home. Part of me wants to scream and get pissed, especially since other members of my team have been granted way more flexibility and I think I’ve proven myself as a dedicated employee. Especially considering many a night I was there just as late, sometimes later, than him.

But as annoying as it is, I can understand his concern. No one else on my team has a newborn and as a parent, I’m sure he’s thinking that it’ll be difficult for me to come back to work, and there’s a danger with me being at home, even with a nanny/sitter. I get it. But it still pisses me off.

So now my mind is racing in a thousand directions. For one, it’s going to be more expensive because she’ll be there longer. For two, I now have to schlep her out three days in the cold, possibly snowy weather and speaking of snow, there’s more fear that she’ll be at the sitter when a snowstorm strikes. I’m afraid I’ll get crap if I want to leave early to go pick her up (btw, other members of my team have often left midday with no problems). This is a huge concern because the only other vehicle we have is Blue’s van and that is not good in snow. He’s also having misgivings about picking her up at all, which really sucks because now he’d have to do that three times a week. I don’t want her at the sitter until I get out because besides being expensive, she’ll have been there for 9 hours.

Ugh.

As much as I didn’t want to do daycare right away, I’m beginning to hope and pray that we get a call that there’s an opening way earlier than anticipated. It would just be so, so much easier and less expensive. My boss right above me did say that maybe in a couple weeks if it all works we can go to three days but who knows.

Besides just the logistics and the thought of being away from her for so long, I’m dreading returning for other reasons. Everything seems kind of up in the air with my department and I’m still not completely confident in my job security. Being away for two months, puts me at a disadvantage. I have to readjust to the work flow and now I have a baby so I’m not certain how that will affect my performance. It might be a hard transition at first and I wonder how much room for error I’ll be given.

Then there’s the temp who covered for me. It’s not certain whether she’ll be staying, even though another member of the team is leaving. We’ve cut way back in production since I left so they have to get the position approved from high up, even though it already existed. She’s a great girl and I’d hate to her have to leave, and I also wonder, what if they decide to keep her versus me? Legally, they can’t fire me right away but what if I go back and I’m not as good as before and they get rid of me?

Blue and I have talked about it. If things don’t work out, I’ll stay at home. But that’s an option that’s way on the back burner and not ideal (well, in one major way it is) to either of us.

I know I worry about everything and that a lot of this is just stemming from my fear of leaving Floyd. Once we get in the swing of things it’ll all work out and become the norm. I know that. But right now, my mind is racing in a thousand neurotic directions. I need to make it stop so I can spend the next few days enjoying the time I have with my little family.

Besides all that, I hope you all had a great Christmas. Mine was good and I even got some sleep. The last three nights Floyd slept for long stretches — six, then four, then five hours — and the last two, she was asleep before midnight. Woot, woot!

Well, that’s all for now. I’ll try to update sometime soon but with work coming up, who knows. Happy New Year!

The plan is for me to return to work Jan. 3 (my office is closed Jan. 1 and 2). My hope is I can return on a part in-office/part at-home basis. This was all supposed to be finalized before I went on leave but that didn’t happen, partly because I didn’t have my sh#$ together and partly because my boss is so swamped she barely has time to eat dinner. My bigger boss was open to the idea of me working from home so I’m crossing my fingers he’ll be on board with my plan, because I now do indeed have a plan.

After posting a job on care.com (I would so far recommend this site as a way to find care), I narrowed down the search to three. I think we’ve finally decided on a stay at home mom of four who will provide care in my home and hers. So she’ll come to us three days a week and we send Floyd there two days a week. The next step is to check her references, have her visit our home, and have us visit hers. I really hope it all works out because we’re now only about two weeks from me returning to work. Nothing like cutting it close.

I don’t even want to touch the subject of how hard it will be to hand Floyd over. I can’t wrap my head around it. At least I will be with her (well in the same house) three days a week (fingers crossed). This is not a long-term solution. I plan to work from home for only two months or so and at some point she will go to the day care across the street. We’re on the waiting list. If a spot doesn’t open up before then, she’s set for September, which is nice because she will be a bit older and only a few months from the toddler room. Something about the nurseries in those places scares me. It looks like baby jail.

So that’s the tentative plan, just waiting for my boss to call so we can discuss. It’s so hard choosing someone to watch her. But I think we made the right choice. Personality wise, there is another woman with whom I clicked much better, however, care would be exclusively in her home and because of her two girls, she would travel with Floyd a lot, which Blue and I are not comfortable with.

So that’s that. Life otherwise is good. Terrific actually. Well maybe a little more sleep would be nice…but I hear Santa will be in town soon so you do never know.

I think we have a problem with dairy. The doctor mentioned it as a possible cause for her fussiness the other week but I mainly dismissed it since I’ve been eating lots of dairy since the beginning.  Even so, I did cut back to be on the safe side and over the weekend there was a dramatic decrease in gas and fussiness.

Then came yesterday.

I overdosed on the cheese and paid for it big time. She didn’t get much sleep all day and then wouldn’t go down for more than 10 minutes last night. She kept crying and acting like she was hungry. It became really difficult, especially since Blue had decided to do some work in the basement last night so I had Bree all day with no break, including making dinner and eating all my meals. She just didn’t want to be put down and kept crying.

By 1 a.m. I was at my breaking point. I needed  (gulp, I am so so so sorry) a break from Floyd. When Blue woke to ask if all was well, I told him flat out, no. He got up and took her then. I fell asleep and woke at 6:48 a.m. No joke. He had her all night. Apparently she didn’t fall asleep until 4:30 a.m. I felt and feel awful, like I somehow let them both down.  I know I shouldn’t feel so guilty but he has to work today and I feel like it’s my responsibility to tend to her needs over night. I’m trying to get over it and tell myself it’s OK.

Right now Floyd is sleeping on her stomach. Extremely closely supervised of course. She much prefers it. As I sit here working through my own gas, I can only imagine the torment I put her tiny digestive system through. Hard not to feel like the worst mother ever right now.

I guess now I know. Cheese is out. Luckily, I don’t think I have to cut out dairy completely. I did have some over the weekend and she was fine. Moderation is key I guess. Poor Floyd. Poor Blue. Poor cheese.

Some  basic info/updates:

Floyd had her one-month check-up Monday. Quick interjection: I got us both there right on time. Actually, we were early…by one week to be exact. Yes, I showed up a whole week early. I am losing my mind. Luckily, they squeezed us right in and as it turns out, the nurse never scheduled our appointment so even if we had shown up on the correct date, there would have been no record of it. Kind of makes me feel like less of a moron. Kind of. Anyway, the point of this story is, Floyd is a whopping 9 pounds 14 ounces and 22 3/4 long. That’s more than 2 pounds gained since her last doctor’s visit. It was such a relief, especially since as I’m sure a lot of new moms do, I was worried my milk wasn’t enough for her. She just seems to want to feed so often.

Some things were battling with: gas is still going on but has gotten better and she’s stopped pooping 20 times a day. She had some serious baby acne but that’s clearing. Her hair is wild and out of control. She doesn’t seem to have lost any of it, and I swear it’s getting longer. She now cries to be held. She did it twice and my heart seriously melted. How on Earth can I deny her that when it’s pretty much the best thing in the world to have her instantly stop crying and stare at me in total peace? It’s like her saying I don’t just need you, I want you. Yes, we will have serious attachment issues.

I went for my postpartum appointment. Everything seems to be OK. As my doc said, the name of the game was contraception, which is just really funny given everything we did to make this happen. My goal is to go back on the pill as soon as I can. I know so many hate it but it really controlled my symptoms. There is one I can take while breastfeeding but I’m opting for condoms right now until we figure out if my cycles have righted themselves (I’m not holding my breath). Truth is it doesn’t matter. If my body hasn’t normalized itself, Blue and I have decided we’re not going through infertility treatments again so Floyd will be an only child. The reason is two-fold really: I can’t put myself through that hell again and Blue is concerned about his age and how old he’ll be if we have to go through another multi-year process in a year or so (he’s 37). If my body is fixed, then we’ll decide if we want another. If not, we’ve already come to terms with it and we’re incredibly happy and grateful to be blessed with one beautiful healthy baby.

I finally got a move on finding someone to watch Floyd. I plan to return to work Jan. 2. I may go in the office five days a week or do a few and work from home the others. We’re not doing a daycare. Floyd will do in-home care or someone will come to my home. I’m interviewing three people I’ve narrowed down for the job. I also have one trick up my sleeve in terms of a revised work schedule but I need to run it by my boss. I haven’t even talked to Blue about it yet. It’s a long shot. Will update if it comes to fruition. By the way, I’m going through care.com. So far it’s been a very helpful site.

Now for some very personal information, Blue and I are both very anxious to get to know each other once again, if you catch my drift. Now that I have my appointment behind us and I’ve finally stopped bleeding and having general discomfort, we can make that happen (somehow). I hate buying condoms though. I get sooooo embarrassed.

We still do not have an actual routine but we’re getting closer. I am getting some sleep at night. Mostly she won’t fall asleep for the first round until midnight-1 a.m. sometimes at 11:30 p.m. Though last night she was down at 9:55 for two hours. Took e a half hour to get to sleep. I generally get a food three-hour stretch for the first round, sometimes four, and on three occasions five hours. It takes about an hour or so (on a bad night an hour and a half) to get her back to bed after she wakes from the first stretch and then I get another two to three hours. Depending on when we started and when she  wakes, I might get another hour or two. I think it’s as good as I can ask for for right now.

Well that’s all for now. Little miss is up and demanding my full attention.

Seriously though, we’re all doing well. Just don’t have a lot of time. When she’s sleeping I’m trying to a. nap b. run errands c. take care of bills, general day-to-day stuff and d. laundry, dishes and other household issues. The truth is I only really do any of the above half-assed. There’s a whole hamper full of clothes that need to be put away, and let’s not even talk about the load living in the dryer for a day and the sticky bun residue burning a hole in the unwashed plate.

Wait. This isn’t a video blog. Scratch all of the above. My house is perfect. So tidy it’s unbelievable.

Truthfully, we had a rough night last night. It was the worst one since after the first few days home from the hospital. It really wasn’t all that bad but we’ve been making so much progress at night that at 1 a.m. as my arms and legs burned from being a human bouncy chair and Floyd hollered her head off, it was catastrophic.

Blue woke to both of us crying on the floor. I felt horrible because he has a sinus infection and one killer headache so I didn’t want to wake him. But he being awesome, scooped up Floyd informed me I was taking a break and whisked her away downstairs. Unfortunately, I could hear her crying in the living room (we’re on the third floor) and sleep wasn’t  happening with her in that state so I joined them.

Blue announced she was hungry, which I didn’t think possible because she’d just had back-to-back feedings, but in our absolute desperation, we did something I vowed I wouldn’t do since my milk came in — we gave her formula. We had gotten free samples from the hospital and there was a ready-to-use bottle. Luckily, she either didn’t like the taste or the nipple or wasn’t hungry because she had a few little suckles but didn’t really eat any. I put her on the breast and she suckled herself to sleep. I’m praying that when they tell you it’s impossible to instill bad habits before two months, they’re correct because it will look pretty odd putting an 8-year-old to sleep with my boob at her first sleepover.

We got her down at 1:30 a.m. and she slept to 5 or 6 (can’t remember the time now) and then went right back down for a another three hour stretch, so like I said it really wasn’t bad. Just not as good as the night before when she went down at 11:30 and slept to 4 a.m.

I wound up calling the doctor today because of the fussiness and because for the second time I saw black spots in her poop and it alarmed me. He suggested maybe it’s diet related and that I cut out dairy and also to keep an eye on the diapers. She has a checkup this coming Monday so we can reassess then. I still believe it’s gas related since every time she has a bad bout of crankiness, it results in a poop or series of farts (hate that word). But we’ll see. I did have coffee both days she was extra cranky…maybe that’s it.

In other news, Floyd will be one month tomorrow. I can’t believe it. She’s getting bigger and now wearing 3 months. She can take a bottle now (which allows me a bit of freedom) but still prefers the boob. She recognizes her toys exist but she’s not yet at the point of play. Yesterday for the first time she responded to a rattle. Can’t wait until we can start lulling her into some kind of happiness with tools other than my breasts and my bouncing legs.

She’s alert for good chunks of the day now usually. We get some smirks here and there and I did get a full smile the other day but I’m pretty sure it was gas. Still amazing to see. She made her first coo sound yesterday when she farted on my finger as I applied the diaper rash cream (this kid seriously has a warped sense of humor). Some other things of note, she seems to like when I sing to her. Except the only song I really know the lyrics to is REO Speedwagon’s Take it on the Run and I’m not certain that’s appropriate to sing to an infant. She really seems to like to be held more now. I finally ordered a carrier. I got a baby bjorn, which I wasn’t going to get because of the back issue complaints but it was on sale for $45 on babies r us and we had a gift certificate. It was $55 total with taxes and shipping. We figure we can reassess later if we want something better. This carrier can’t come fast enough.

I think that’s all for now. Well there is so much more. I’ll tell you I do notice a mental difference when I can’t release all my crazy thoughts (I have really got to write a post on my nieces and fear of Floyd getting sick). But I have no idea how much longer she’ll rest for and how much longer I want her to rest for. Back to our lazy day. Maybe we’ll get dressed at some point. Maybe not.

So we’re now 17 days in and things continue to go well. Our biggest challenge at the moment is gas. The doctor was way wrong when he said she may stop pooing for the next few days. And unfortunately, much like her mother, sometimes it takes some effort to get them through. I know; more info than you needed. We spend a lot of time with her draped over our arm, patting her on the back. In fact, she’s doing that right now with daddy. On the upside, I’m pretty certain this counts as tummy time she’s pretty much in the same position and can move her head freely from side to side, especially when I prop her head up by the chin.

I’m almost petrified to write this but we’re getting some sleep at night. Usually it takes a bit to get her down after her bedtime feeding, which is typically around 10 or 11 p.m. and lately she needs a second mini feeding about an hour or so later to pacify her and get her to sleep. Again like mom, she’s a comfort eater. But once asleep, she’s out for two or three hours. Then another feed and out for two or three hours and one more feed and another two or three. Usually winding up around 6 or 7 hours total, which isn’t too shabby for mom. It’s still tiring waking up and feeding, but it’s much better than no sleep at all.

The other night, after a particularly rough start, she surprised the crap out of me and slept for five hours. It actually scared me and I felt guilty as hell since I’m still supposed to be waking her for feeds. At her last appointment she still wasn’t back to birth weight, 7 11, instead of 7 13, but the doc said that happens with some breastfed babies and she gained 264 mg per day and they like to see 200 so she’s just fine. I’m sure by now she’s back to birth weight. I know she’s getting enough to eat, because she has plenty of wet diapers and has alert periods during the day, plus her newborn sleepers are starting to fit more sung.

Still I couldn’t help but feel like the worst mother ever. The problem is, I’m so tired at night that as soon as she goes down, I pass out and am dead to the world. She sleeps right next to the me in her rock n play sleeper and the minute she starts to fuss, I’m up, but I let her wake me. She’s typically very good about waking as soon as she’s hungry and that’s usually right on the three or four mark (I haven’t been sweating it if she goes 4 hours over night). I debated setting my alarm to wake and feed her, but Blue convinced me to let her go. She’s still getting 8 feedings a day. Plus when I do wake her for a feeding, she usually just eats for a couple minutes and is then up 20 or 30 minutes later looking for food. So I’ve decided to just let her do her thing. Hope I’m right.

A few more things:

1. In case anyone is wondering how Moxie is dealing with the new addition, she pretty much spent the first couple weeks avoiding her and me. She’s now getting back into her routine but still hasn’t really approached Bree or bothered with her much. She’s more interested in her gear like the bouncy seat, and tonight she had a showdown with the stroller. I’m glad she’s still her precocious self. I don’t want her to just disappear. She’s good entertainment.

2. Bree will be known from now on as Floyd. You know I like my nicknames. This is actually one of the many names we call her, and was in the running for a boy’s name. I don’t care how old it sounds, there’s something about it that really appealed to me. Anyway, when we looked it up, we discovered that it was last popular at the turn of the century, as in the 20th century, that the average age of men named Floyd is 78, and it means gray haired. So why do we call our daughter that? Because she often has the facial expressions and attitude of a curmudgeonly old man, including a line across her nose from furrowing her brow so much. She’s definitely a Floyd.

3. I will be eventually be transitioning over to a new platform. I want it to be more of a lifestyle blog and not so much a mommy blog. Though that will be part of it. This won’t be for some time. Until then, you’ll probably just get sporadic, no-thrills updates, with very little wittiness or flavor.

Alright that’s it for now. Oh wait, one last note. I was wearing a loose shirt today with a row of buttons up top, which I had open for easy access. When Blue came home I ran to the store. My jacket was open and I completely forgot about the opened buttons until I got an odd look from a girl in front of me in line. I looked down and there was a nice bit of cleavage staring back at me. I’m sure it complemented the uncombed hair, under eye circles, and white sweat socks with sandals really well. Figures. I finally have cleavage to show and the rest of me looks like the crazy cat lady.

As mentioned in my previous post, Bree was born with low blood sugar levels. There seems to be a conflicting opinion on whether the low sugars were caused by the gestational diabetes or not. In any case, what that basically meant was we had to supplement her feeding with formula since the colostrum doesn’t have enough nutrients.

The nurse in the delivery room immediately said bottle (this chick was something else) but I asked if there were any alternatives. That’s when they brought out the supplemental nursing system. Basically there’s a container up top that you throw the formula in and then attach a thin rubber wire to your breast right above the nipple. The baby then takes both the breast and the tube. She was able to feed from me like she would normally but was getting the nutrients she needed at the same time.

It worked really well for us and her sugars bounced back after a day in the hospital. But there was a downside. The formula filled her up in a way the colostrum never could and she got used to that full feeling. Which meant that when we tried to switch back to just my supply, it wasn’t enough. I got kind of pissed at the treating pediatrician because he told me to continue feeding her with the SNS so I did and I think that extra day of feeding is what did it. I spent the first two nights at home feeding her for 6 hours straight. I kid you not. Each time I put her down, she was hungry again.

It was rough, but luckily my milk came in with a vengeance on the third day. They had told me to pump throughout the day to help the milk come in faster, but since she was spending all night on the breast, I didn’t bother. That was enough stimulation. Feeding since then has been great. She has a strong sucking reflex and a good natural latch. We actually introduced the pacifier right away because she’s always looking for something to suckle and my boob needs rest.

Lately she’s been taking a few seconds to latch on occasion and I try not to get frustrated. As Blue has pointed out, that’s her being a normal baby. I know the instant latch isn’t altogether common and I just have to be patient. I think cause my boobs are so much bigger, it’s not easy to get on there right away.

I’m so glad we’re able to breastfeed though. I do feel a bond forming and it makes me so happy to see milk dripping off her mouth. My favorite thing is when she passes out right after a good feeding. She looks drunk. Oh and anyone else breastfeeding ravenously hungry? I can’t get enough food. It’s like the second trimester all over again.

She’s now sleeping some at night. Usually it goes, 1 hour of sleep and feed, two hours of sleep and feed, three hours of sleep, feed, and start the day. So it’s about 6 hours total. Sleeping in segments though makes me tired and I haven’t quite fully bounced back yet but I’m getting better. My energy levels are low and it takes me forever just to do a few things. One load of wash is an all-day affair. I have to remind myself that she is not even two weeks yet and is still demanding about 100% of my attention so if stuff doesn’t get done, it doesn’t get done.

I don’t think I’ve gotten the baby blues, at least not exactly. I don’t randomly cry and I don’t think I’m doing a bad job. I mean, are there times I have no clue? Yes and there’s guilt – is she sleeping too much? spending too much time in her rock n’ sleeper? not enough tummy time? did we get enough fresh air today?, and on and on – but I’m doing the best I can and I know that.

For me, the real problem is anxiety. Lots and lots of anxiety. I’m afraid she’ll get sick, that she’s not eating enough, fussing too much, even venturing out on my own is a problem though that is improving. I went to the store the other day and had a near panic attack in the frozen food section. I kept thinking I’d left her somewhere. It was really weird. I stupidly thought I’d like the time alone; I didn’t. I went out again yesterday though and it was better. I need to get used to driving again.  There’s a chance I may have to drive us to our pediatrician appointment, which will cause a whole new wave of anxiety. First time driving us around. We also had a scare this week because one of my nieces came down with strep throat two days after visiting. However, the doctor said babies this young never develop it so we should be good and we’re already on day four with no symptoms.

I’m hoping the anxiety gets better as the hormones wind down and I get more sleep. I will always worry, of course, but I can’t be at this heightened emotional state indefinitely. Soon she’ll begin to pick up on it and I’m trying my hardest not to screw her up. At least not this early on.

She is starting to become more alert during the day and I can’t wait for the time when we can actually engage her in play. That will be really cool.

So yeah. We’re doing OK. Still getting to know each other. I just can’t believe she’s real. Oh, and she already has a wicked sense of humor. Today after changing her poop diaper and cleaning her all up, I just rested my butt on the couch when I heard an explosion down below. Massive poop again. Real funny kid. Real funny.

What made this storm so bad were all the leaves on the trees, which weighed everything down to begin with and made the heavy wet snow more powerful. As a result, wires and trees came down everywhere, which meant widespread power outages, including our own home. The power went out Saturday at 1 p.m. and stayed out until about 8 p.m. or so the next day. Very luckily, a guy from Blue’s work let use his backup generator so we had heat from the pellet stove and some very limited lighting in the evening.

Despite the circumstances the day wasn’t bad at all and Blue and I made ourselves a very tasty and lovely dinner via the grill. I ate a lot of chicken (this is important I swear). We decided to sleep downstairs and turned off the heat for fear the generator would run out of gas and smoke would come into the house from the stove. Blue fell asleep right away but I had some trouble.

My stomach was very upset and Brew (Bree) was moving like crazy. More than she had in weeks. I thought it was the chicken; that I’d eaten too much. I took two tums and finally managed to fall asleep. I woke sometime late in the night/early morning. I have no concept of time because the power was out and my phone was not immediately accessible. I had to go to the bathroom so I went upstairs and that’s when the trouble began. I had to poo more than I ever had in my life. And it wasn’t happening.

I spent the next (no clue how many hours) between the bathroom and the couch. Every time I thought I was OK, I had to try to poo again. The whole time I was getting these waves of intense gas pains, which seemed to grow in intensity. I began to realize something was going on. Particularly because a friend of mine had told me she had been up all night the night before her birth with what she thought was really bad gas. Turns out she was in early labor.

So I thought maybe something was going and on and decided to call the answering service once light hit. The entire time I was hoping for some kind of definitive sign that would let me know something was going on and would also give me a good reason to call the doctor. It finally happened. I spotted. Well, the hilarious part about this is because it was so dark I couldn’t tell at first so I had to grab the head lamp and inspect my undies. Yeah, ultra sexy right to the end.

I called the doctor and the on-call doc confirmed it sounded like early labor and that the gas pain was indication the baby was moving down into position. She suggested I get a warm shower, eat a light breakfast, and head to the hospital to get checked. Since we had no power, a warm shower wasn’t happening at our place so Blue and I headed to his moms. By this point, the snow had ended and it was just after 8 a.m. so the sun was shining but the roads were still questionable in many places and the destruction was everywhere — huge trees fallen in yards, branches on sidewalks, wires in the middle of the street. The car slid one time and it was really scary, but we made it to her house safely.

The entire time the gas pain continued with waves of intense pain. At this point, I was wondering if they’re contractions. My stomach felt somewhat tighter when they happened and there was a crest but it wasn’t the definite feeling everyone told me I’d have when one hit. I still had no idea. Plus the time between the crests wasn’t long (like 6/7 minutes when leaving our house) and the crests themselves lasted just seconds. There was no way in my mind the contractions could be that close together already and I was under the impression they lasted longer.

At Blue’s mom, I showered and had some eggs and a piece of toast. I had to stop eating at times whenever a pain hit but it was all very bearable. Finally we packed up our stuff and headed to the hospital. I was convinced that we’d be turned away once we got there. Under normal circumstances I would have preferred it that way since I had plans of soaking in the tub, listening to my iPod and working through the labor with Blue. But the roads weren’t pretty and we didn’t have power so staying at the hospital became ideal. We figured that if we got turned away we’d head to a friend’s house nearby and hang out until we were ready.

En route to the hospital, we stupidly chose a back road we knew was lined with trees and would probably be bad. We were wrong. It was horrific. The street should have been closed. It looked like something you’d see on CNN. Huge limbs and even trunks in the middle of the road, downed wires, and general debris everywhere. The people cleaning their drives were staring at our car like we were mad and I just wanted to scream “I’m in labor; we’re not that stupid.”

The rest of the drive was better, save a detour due to a downed wire. Eventually we made it. Turns out the hospital lost power too and was operating on the backup generator. The emergency room was dimly lit and cold with no lights in the bathrooms. The computer system was super slow and checking in took a while even though there weren’t many waiting before us.

It was 10 a.m. when we got there. We checked in and one of the questions the register lady asked was “how far apart are the contractions?” to which I replied “I don’t know if I’m having contractions.” I then quickly explained the spotting and call to the doctor to get checked out and she called up to the maternity ward for a nurse.

We went through a similar process in the emergency triage area where we were again asked how apart the contractions were and I had to stupidly say I didn’t know if I was having them. As we waited, I stood and rocked back and forth since this was the best way to relive the pain. Finally a nurse came to escort us. I chose to walk versus the wheelchair since the standing and rocking helped. Sitting was more painful. When we got to the floor, we had to check in with the front desk clerk and again she asked how far apart the contractions were. And again I had to stupidly say I didn’t know if I was having any.

From the look the lady gave us, it was clear she thought we’d be going through a revolving door and heading straight back out the hospital entrance. She even asked if I’d called my doctor. I explained about the spotting and that the on-call doc suggested I get checked. She let us through and I know she thought she’d be seeing us two minutes later exiting the ward.

We went to the maternity triage ward (so many levels to go through) and here I was hooked up to a monitor to check the heart and the contractions I may or may not have been having. I had to go to the bathroom and since the power was out and the bathrooms dark, Blue had to assist me. Well, turns out my bloody show was in full effect and Blue saw some stuff I think he wishes he could unsee. We’ve silently agreed to never discuss it again.

While we waited for me to be checked, a nurse monitored the printouts and I asked if I was having contractions. Turns out I was. And they were about 3/4 minutes apart. Eventually a medical resident came in to check me. And guess what G.L.O.B.? I was 6 cm dilated. It blew the resident away. And us. We’d bought a ticket to stay.

We were then moved to the delivery room and the on-call doc was paged. I spent the time rocking in a chair and standing, rocking back and forth while a nurse ran in and out prepping everything and checking the contractions, heartbeat, and my vitals. Meanwhile, Blue notified family and friends. It was all happening so fast and since we hadn’t expected it to be so soon, we’d only notified my mom and sister (and Blue’s mom).

The on-call doc came in then and talked to us. Side note on this. When I first became pregnant I’d received a recommendation for an OB. I think I posted about this. The doctor also happened to be the uncle of one of my coworker’s husband. Turns out he is super good friends with my doc and they cover for each other. I actually saw him at a picnic she had and was going to introduce myself as someone he’d potentially deliver me. It’d been my hope that if my doctor didn’t deliver me, he would. Looked like I’d get my wish.

He kept saying our goal was to have the baby out by 5 p.m. And I really didn’t know what to make of that. He did an internal and at this point discovered I was 8 nearly 9 cm dilated. That’s when he said he wanted to break my water but that the contractions would come stronger and more frequently. He asked if I was OK with this and if I wanted an epidural. I’d already been offered one and had said no since the pain was completely manageable. I declined again and said I’d think about it after my water broke if I couldn’t handle the pain.

So he broke my water, and all of a sudden I felt the baby coming. I had an overwhelming urge to push. I mentioned (OK screamed) something to this effect and he asked if I had the urge to “bear down.” Whatever the hell that meant. I said yes, yes. And he told me that I couldn’t unless I was at a 10. In my mind I was thinking, frack that. I’m pushing this baby out.

Well, as it turns out, I was at 10. We could now move to pushing. That’s when a lot of scrambling went on. Nurses rushed around the room grabbing everything that was needed and in this time they realized the bed didn’t work. It wouldn’t elevated. The doctor and several nurses tried to get it to go and there was a lot of grumbling. Finally they removed part of the bed and the doctor pulled a stool up right in front of me. The whole time I’m being coached to pull my ankles up, take deep breaths and push on the third, holding my breath, and putting my chin to my chest.

I’m not joking when I say pushing was by far the worst part for me. It hella hurt and the doctor kept shoving his fingers in there trying to widen the gap. They also wouldn’t let me yell. But I did anyway. I think I also swore like a trucker a couple of times. But I kept at it while everyone cheered me on and kept telling me how close I was. I was beginning to think they were freaking liars. The doctor mentioned the 5 p.m. timetable again and I wanted to shout “if you think I’ll still be doing this in 5 hours, you’re freaking nuts. Luckily Brew (Bree) completely agreed. After just 13 minutes of pushing, she entered the world at 12:58 p.m.

It was a whirlwind and completely amazing. Everyone couldn’t believe how quickly I gave birth and my doc came in the next day and said “I heard you kicked butt.” The on-call doc made a joke that next time I conceive I’ll have to call him right away. I know I was very, very lucky and  I credit the easy birth to Brew (Bree). She did everything she needed to and right on time. I also got to throw some kudos to my body for finally getting something 100% right.

Some other quick details, I tore during the birth because how quickly she came and required stitches. Aftercare was somewhat painful. She was also born with low blood sugar. More on that later. She’s good now and we worked through a feeding issue because of this.

So that’s the story. I know it’s long. I apologize. And what’s the moral of the story? Turns out, I didn’t know I was having contractions after all. If it hadn’t been for the blood and my friend’s story of her own birth, this could have been a home birth.

I’m hoping to have some kind of general update at some other point this week. I also have to do the lame apology for not commenting. I’m reading everyone’s blogs, but usually when breastfeeding and it’s hard to comment with one hand. Once Bree and I get a routine, I’ll be back to regular commenting. Until then, please know, I’m thinking of you all.

As many are aware, the Northeast got hit hard with a snowstorm this weekend. I, like many, really underestimated the potential impact and actually made fun of those who were taking it so seriously. Turns out it was bad, with power outages and downed trees everywhere. I will get to the details later, but Brew decided to begin to make an entrance early in the morning of the day after we were hit and was born later that day. Luckily, the roads were passable by then but there were many challenges. The labor itself was quick and void of complications. It was all natural just as I wanted. Easy pregnancy and easy birth.

So without further ago, may I introduce:

Bree Cecilia, born at 12:58 p.m. on October 30, 2011 (her due date)

Brew is a healthy 7 lb, 13 oz 20 1/2 inch (now 7 lb , 6 oz) baby girl. More to come later. Though honestly it might be a little bit. We’re still acclimating to home life. There have been some rough patches (like nearly 6 straight hours of feeding last night and no sleep save for a blissful hour I stole thanks to Blue; luckily I got 4 good hours this morning), but overall we’re doing just fine.