reminds me of the one I love

12-day-old Josephine in her very own pint-sized papasan (like mother, like daughter). Okay, so really, it's a blanket in a laundry basket, but it'll take her a while to figure that out, I think. I've got her fooled for now. Here's a string of facial expressions for your enjoyment...

The Name:

So we finally settled on a name in the couple of days after she was born. (There were a few risky moments when the grandparents had the birth certificate form in their possession and nearly decided for us, but thankfully they remained patient). Here's way more than you could want to know about her name: Josephine was the name of my maternal great grandmother, and my mother’s middle name is Ann. Sean's mom's name is Jo Ann, so it also plays off her name. We didn't like how Ann sounded with Josephine, so for her middle name, we went with an Italian version of Ann that means "year's time." This fits partly because she has Italian blood from my side of the family, and also because her arrival coincided with us being in Austin for a year-- so it kind of tells a story. For now we plan on calling her Josephine. As icing on the cake, our first recovery nurse in the hospital happened to be named Josephine, and she was a really kind woman-- my favorite of all our nurses. Annata is pronounced uh-NOT-uh (phonetic spellings are not my strong suit-- there's probably a more eloquent way of sounding it out). Anyway, I warned you that was way more than you wanted to know about the names!

Two Week Milestones:

As of Thursday, April 16, Josephine's 9 lbs 3 oz (she gained a full pound in 9 days... at her five day check up she was 8 lbs 2 oz)! Sean did a re-measuring of her yesterday and determined that she's now 21" (pretty remarkable, considering her conehead shrinking had to have docked her a couple inches in the height department, first).

We also started in on the cloth diapering at the two week point. Any of my friends who cloth diaper can take one look at the photo above of Josephine in her first mommy-built diaper, and they can tell you exactly what I did wrong [that time]. (Yes, the moisture DOES wick out past the cover if you don't tuck in the little orange prefold edges... I just wanted to test that theory, and I'm here to tell y'all it's true.)

Her umbilical cord fell off a week ago, so she got her first bath the morning she turned two weeks. She had mixed emotions about the experience. Personally, I thought she made a lovely little ducky:

My mom decided Josephine needed a mobile, so we got the same Tiny Love one that we've heard raves about from our friends. Sure enough, she's obsessed with the rabbit. The mobile doesn't even have to be ON and she'll stare at it's little black and white feet like there's just no tomorrow. So in case you've ever wondered what an obsessed baby looks like, see below.

Also, I need to point out that I have friends who have too much talent for their own good. It's really ridiculous the stuff they can whip out. Check out the stroller blanket my friend Christi knitted Josephine! Another friend from Atlanta, Kate, knitted the teddy bear that now watches over the sleeping cuddlebug. I know, I know--it's CRAZY what they can do!!!

Easter:

It's dawning on me that I'm being a bit anachronistic in this post, but oh well. My family came back into town Easter weekend, which was great for a few reasons. My youngest sister Darla, and older brother, Jason, were able to meet Josephine for the first time. Even better, my mom came down with them on Saturday, and the three of them kept an eye on Josephine while Sean and I went on our first postpartum date. It was INCREDIBLY nice getting out, just the two of us. We went downtown, to Lambert's. I had my first margarita in 9 months, and both of us were pleased with the food. My dad and Janell, came down Sunday; we all had a nice meal out, and then my parents and Janell stuck around to go to the Easter service at our church, Mosaic. We had decided to participate in their Easter baby dedication ceremony, since Mosaic doesn't offer infant baptism. We still dolled her up in the gown that I, my sisters, and my mother were baptized in though. Naturally, she was pretty cute. Except for that part where she cried while all the other babies stayed as peaceful as could be...

Jason, Josephine, Dad/Grandpa, Janell, Darla

Josephine in her "My first Easter" outfit, courtesy of Mama Jo

cuddling with Grandpa

with Uncle Jason, above, and Aunt Darla, below

At the baby dedication ceremony:

Warning: Long-winded birth story follows. Only meant for those readers wanting ridiculous amounts of detail and reflection. (For those wanting the short version: water broke, 40 hours later, had a C-section.)

Birth "Story":
As with all good stories, this one has a happy ending (in short: Josephine). Everything up until the ending was pretty rough, but no labor and delivery is a piece of cake, so I think my experience is pretty standard in that regard. It started around 4 AM on April 1st with my water breaking. We were pretty sure at that point that she'd be an April Fool's baby, which was ironic because in an effort to be oh-so-clever, I'd already made out a faux birth announcement blog post for April Fools. The blog was set to publish that "Wilhelmina Hildegaard Sims" was born at whatever time, etc. Had a cute anonymous internet photo to accompany it. But then when my water broke I cancelled the post and couldn't help but laugh, because obviously she'd decided to turn the joke around on us.

In the end, she had the class to wait until April 2nd to arrive, which was one good aspect of the labor taking forever. The second perk to the long labor was that it bought my parents plenty of time to repair the upstairs water leak and finish painting the nursery while they waited for her! :-) (I think my mom also did laundry and dishes and a million other things I couldn't keep track of while laboring). This was fabulous.

Anyway, contractions started when my water broke, which was good because with her not being insulated by a protective bag, Josephine was at risk of infection the longer she stayed in there. It didn't take long for the contractions to reach 3 minutes apart, but the intensity varied pretty significantly, and occasionally they'd drop off to 5 or 8 minute intervals. After 12 hours of contractions, the midwife asked us to come in to get checked; I was 2 cm dilated and 100% effaced. (The former was frustrating, the latter encouraging-- but I knew it was no indication of how the rest of labor would go, so I wasn't worried). Went back home for several more hours, and even tried to nap a little between contractions, but the napping concerned the midwife who decided we needed to return to the birthing center so she could make sure that labor was progressing adequately. Upon arriving at the birthing center the second time, she confirmed that I was 4 cm and in "active" labor. I was happy to have doubled my progress, but unfortunately, progress didn't continue at that pace. Around 4 am the next morning, I had barely made it to 5 cm, was dehydrated and already exhausted. After begging to be allowed to nap some more and agreeing to take the castor oil she suggested, she gave me an IV for fluids and a temporary nubain drip (I think? sp?) which didn't stop or alleviate the contractions, but made me woozy enough to sleep between them (3-5 minute naps interrupted by sheer misery-- but better than being awake and awaiting the misery...). The hour long “nap” helped, though, as shortly afterwards I measured 7 cm. (This makes me wish in retrospect that I’d rested more, despite the fear of infection that kept us awake and attempting to amplify contractions when I was exhausted. Of course, had I rested more and Josephine ended up with an infection, that’d have been worse—so what is one to do?)

Anyway, a few hours later I was in transition and measuring an extra cm every time she checked. Eventually the midwife gave me the go-ahead to push if I wanted to, which we did for 2-3 hours (including an excruciating game of tug-of-war with Sean) but the baby's station never changed. During the entire thing she remained at 1 cm above the pubic bones, which I believe is where the midwife said she was at my 35 week appointment... Anyway, we had to throw in the towel because my water had broken 38 hours prior, and she wasn't coming down the canal no matter which position/technique we tried, my contractions were weakening, and I was beyond exhausted.

It took well over an hour from the time we decided to go to the hospital until I actually got the spinal tap (a.k.a. The Most Beautiful Thing Ever) on the operating table. The people checking us in worked as quickly as they could; it just all took a long time. That was the worst part-- the last hour, because the contractions were SO rampant and strong, and I had no choice but to keep pushing through them even though all my pushing muscles were shot to pieces. I asked for drugs the minute I got to the hospital, but there was nothing they could give me any quicker than the spinal tap. After the spinal tap, it was all LOVELY. Hearing her squeak when they finally pulled her out of me was wonderful. We'd been wondering for many hours when we'd EVER hear that little noise.

Thankfully, Josephine remained totally healthy through the whole thing. I ended up anemic due to blood loss-- no big deal. I also developed high blood pressure during the recovery period, but that was miraculously cured by being discharged from the hospital. ;-)

We’ve had mixed feedback about why she couldn't come out naturally. According to the medical doctor at the hospital there was "no way she could have come out from below" judging by how "molded her head was." He also advised not even trying a VBAC in the future-- just schedule c-sections. In short, his opinion was that the inlet was too small for her to pass through (despite the fact that she was a fairly normal sized baby and I’m a pretty normal sized girl). When we checked into the hospital, the midwife agreed that she wasn't going to come out from below, because the contractions alone should have moved her down and yet her station never changed. As far as positioning goes, when they took her out, she was all lined up properly. The midwife had said she could tell Josephine was trying to turn to find the right fit as I pushed (at one point I had back labor for a while, but she kept turning and eventually it wasn't back labor any more). So Josephine was doing everything she could. And I was doing everything I could, but to no avail. For a while we were all thinking maybe it had something to do with the fractures I incurred to my pelvic girdle during a horse riding accident a few years ago-- perhaps something didn't heal properly, and since every centimeter counts in moving a head through a small space, maybe she was getting stuck?

However, in a follow up appointment with the midwife, she said she didn't think the failure to progress was due to poorly healed pelvic bones. She said it was more likely that because we were under time restrictions with my water breaking, I couldn’t take the labor at a natural pace. Therefore, I didn’t get adequate rest throughout it and by the end, my contractions just weren't strong enough to push her out. I'd like to think that she's right and that a VBAC might be possible in the future should we decide to have more kids. It's my only consolation prize after having worked my butt off to get fully dilated this go-around. (Shouldn't take as long next time-- muscle memory). On the other hand, it’s frustrating knowing that it was “fear” of infection that pushed things along at a rate I couldn’t keep up with, and that perhaps without that fear, it all would have gone as we hoped. Not that second guessing things is at all helpful, but we all do it…

Anyway, as with any challenging experience, I’ve thought it through a lot since then, especially considering the different medical opinions concerning what happened and our approach for the future. Not easy to sort through all that while exhausted. I AM grateful that the surreal, traumatic aspects of it have faded into the shadows of how bright and wonderful the result turned out to be. And it amazes me that women everywhere do this all the time. In some ways, I appreciate having experienced the stark (understatement) contrast between natural labor at the birthing center and the operating table at the hospital. It felt truly insane at the time, going from one environment into the other, but now I feel so much more sympathetic towards both processes. Both are way crazier than I ever would have imagined. And like I said, I'm AMAZED that women go through this all the time.

Also, let the record reflect that Sean did an awesome job taking care of me (and Josephine, once she got here). He was incredibly cool and collected and a wonderful encourager. My mom also helped out for the last 12 hours and was truly indispensable. You’d have thought they both did this sort of thing on a daily basis. Sean’s previous timidity only surfaced when the doctor invited Sean to peak over the blue curtain to get a first glimpse of his daughter when he pulled her out. The doctor said something like “…if you’re not squeamish…” to which Sean pointedly responded, “I’m fine. I AM squeamish.” He waited until they had her body far away from mine and then went over to see her. (I'd have done the exact same thing).

And that, folks, is the not-so-nutshell version of things. As for the happy ending, you'll be seeing gazillions of photos of her from here on out.