Time marches on

T minus 8 days and counting before I return to work.  As I expected to be I am a mixed bag of emotions but the one emotion that is oddly missing is the one marked "ready".  I knew without a doubt that I wanted to take as much time as I could for my maternity leave.  I strongly believe that this is time you just don't get back and am thankful we were able to take the necessary steps ahead of time to allow me to be with him for his first three months.  I truly feel for those who don't have the means or option to take the extra time with their new baby, its a huge loss for both...this country's policies towards maternity/paternity leave is so archaic and ass backwards...but that is a post for another day I'm afraid...I think about were I was at 6 weeks postpartum (especially after our first two were spent in the hospital) and there was NO way I was ready to return to work!  My body was really just starting to heal from birth (again my 2 week NICU stint did nothing to help speed my recovery) and we were still 1.5-2 weeks away from really getting a good solid hang of breast feeding, not to mention my emotional readiness...needless to say it would have been a worst case scenario, for us anyway.  But as I sit here staring down the pipe line...just the thought of leaving him makes my heart tighten and brings tears to my eyes.  I know I'm not alone in this emotion, I'm sure it's the same feeling most moms that have to return to work feel at the thought of those first weeks away from that sweet bundle, I hope as the time passes and it becomes more routine that feeling subsides a bit.  And yes, that sweet bundle is a crap ton of work...far more that my desk job will demand of me I know, so it is certainly not a matter of feeling like its an easier gig to stay home...quite the opposite I would say.  I know how hard it can be on the days Mike works and I am solo for 24 hours, makes me really admire my military mommies for the single parent roll they play for months/years at a time, often with no family near by to offer support...HARD HARD HARD!  But even knowing how hard it is, the rewards are greater than I could have ever imagined.  I am beyond grateful that the majority of the time I am at work he will be with his daddy, although if I am to be completely honest here I am as equally jealous as I am grateful.  Im so glad it will likely be daddy to hear his first word and witness his first steps rather than his outside care provider but it breaks my heart to think of missing those things.  But time marches on, and so must I,  I just hope it doesn't march too too fast...

                                                           Look how big I am already!

Baby wearing...and other hippy-dippy exploits

I stand before you today (metaphorically speaking) with my hand over my heart and three fingers held high, a-la the girl scout promise, and say; I am a breast feeding, baby wearing, cloth diapering mamma! 
( I am not yet convinced that the extra one hour of sleep I eek out in the morning by putting this little booger on my chest constitutes co-sleeping so I am holding off on my Birkenstock purchase for the time being).  However, I am a bit shocked myself at the evolution in my thinking regarding my actual parenting style vs. what I thought this reality might look like five years ago.  Please don't misunderstand, I do not now nor have I ever thought the items above to be weird, odd or more or less helpful/harmful to the development of a child, they just simply were not ideas I pictured myself embracing pre-children.  I also find it slightly ironic that I see this as an evolution, considering that the definition of the word typically involves progression and forward thinking yet the very items I am speaking of are actually as old as time.  From the dawn of man women wore their babies, not because Dr. Sears told them too, but because they had things to do!  Firewood to gather, fields to plow, mastodon to kill!  Women breastfed because that was what they had to do, there was no "perfectly formulated" formula, breast milk was the perfect food: easily accessible, readily available and FREE.  And I don't even want to think about the diapering, disposables were clearly not an option, but I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that little baby loin cloths were certainly harder to clean than today's modernized cloth versions.

                                 My clothesline...what must the neighbors think?!?

                                     A cute cloth diapered bum...post two months shots :(


Look, I am not ready to start manufacturing my own hand milled bath soaps to sell on the roadside and at Phish concerts but these things really work for me and my little dude and I should mention that my big dude totally supports, embraces and encourages these ideas as well, and that's really progressive! (You go babe! )
While no one way is the right way and I continue to support a to each his/her own attitude, this is the path our family is traveling.  We are living and we are thriving!  Just wait until we get the chicken coop erected in the back yard :)


DISCLAIMER:  This blog was written in jest and means no disrespect to you actual hippies out there.  I find your attitudes towards peace love and happiness totally groovy!

Wake up call

I had several visitors this weekend, or rather I should say Matthew did, he is the main attraction these days, Im just the support staff :)  One of the visitors (who I'm allowing to remain nameless) had not seen me in quite a while and certainly not since I have given birth, looked at me towards the end of our visit and sort of nodded at the sweet lump of a baby in my arms peacefully sleeping and said..."that's put a good five years on you".  I immediately felt like I had been slapped...with a brick...As I fought back the sting building in my eyes my head was screaming...ARE YOU KIDDING ME!  I just had a baby!  Not only that, I had a baby in the NICU for two weeks and I haven't slept like a human being for almost 8 weeks!  (and lets be honest its really been more like 8 months) I am in constant demand for food and comfort and every other little need this tiny human has...ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  But all I could muster was a sad little "why would you say that"?  Now in fairness to this visitor, and the main reason I am allowing them to remain nameless,  I know that the comment did not come from a place of malice.  It in no way was meant to even be hurtful, this individual was just blissfully unaware of the land mine riddled field they were dancing in when they made what they believed was just a simple observation...Also in fairness to this individual, I had not showered that day (I though I was doing great putting on real clothes and not staying in my pajamas!), I had my hair in a ponytail and it did not even occur to me to put on a stitch of makeup for their visit.  So this begs the question...how off base was he?  What exactly is the statute of limitation on "letting yourself go" once you have a baby?
I've been at this almost two months now, I'm returning to work in another 4 weeks...at some point I have to figure things out...Im pretty sure they are going to want me showered and ready for work...Just when do I have to get my shit together?  The short answer to this, I think, is it depends.  (Very PC right?)  But really every day navigating these new waters known as parenthood are dramatically different.  Some nights are much stormier than others...these are the days I tend to sail the ship in my sweats...and on those days of calm seas I can feel like a rock star for all I can accomplish with a baby on my shoulder.  I don't think any of this will change as we transition out of the newborn stage into the baby that can crawl and eventually walk.  And don't even get me started on how much more complicated this will get when the first mate enters toddlerhood...OY.  The short story here is it really makes no difference if this kid put 10 years on me, its worth it.  And in truth I do feel myself getting a bit more comfortable day by day....today for example?  A huge win; not only a shower, but hair did and makeup on!  Take that buddy!

Maybe it's the solar flares....

...or perhaps the full moon but I am typing this one handed standing in front of my computer swaying side to side with little man finally nestled in the Moby wrap because my arm was literally threatening to fall off.  He has been a fussy, out of sorts mess since our abrupt wake up this morning.  Although I'd like to blame outer space anomalies for abducting my normally content, good napping baby I fear this may be a lot more mundane and normal than I'd like to allow myself to believe.  It is difficult for me to feel like I am unable to console my child...flesh of my flesh...but the cold hard facts can not be denied...sometimes I just can't solve the mystery.  Is it that he's over tired from his pitiful nap schedule yesterday, or perhaps our dinner out that took us a bit off our regular routine last evening?  Did I eat something that is hurting his belly, or is this just his regular gassy self?  Is he hungry?... No, he can't be hungry we just ate an hour and a half ago!!!....riiiiggghhhtt.... ;)  Truth is it could be all of these or none of these and I may never know.  

                             Content baby...where did you go?


Everyday is a new day, and all those challenges I feel like I finally solved yesterday...well, like I said it's a new day.  So we will continue to sway and rock and pat and snuggle and lean on our crutch known as the "white noise" app on our phones (seriously...if you don't have this yet you must get it, small baby not required it's great for grown ups too) to try and navigate each new day...and maybe if we're lucky his mood will shift back with the phasing of the moon.

Finding normal

I realize single words can't qualify as oxymorons but this single word should have an exception made for it.   Normal doesn't quite fit the context of life these days, at least not in its former more traditional sense.  Normal used to consist of sitting on the couch sipping my coffee, now it means seeing how few times I can reheat my coffee before I get to finish it (3 so far today).  Normal used to be regular gym workouts, now it means  24/7 at home strength training sessions...this boy is heavy!  My normal joy of cooking has taken a back seat to things that can be preped quickly or eaten quickly with one hand...see twenty four seven gym mention above.  And while I have always loved my dairy products, I never expected to turn into the dairy myself!  My baby caring has transitioned to baby wearing, my purse has magically transformed into a diaper bag,  and sadly I'd much rather have a glass of water over a glass of wine...gasp!  While I know these "norms" are not going to last forever and dare I say it, might one day return to their former selves, I am working really hard to embrace...and actually loving...this new version.  Who knew "normal" with a party of three could be so much fun ;)

If you want to make God laugh...make a plan...

I knew that parenthood would bring with it all types of lessions, patience being one I was already working on as I had been ready to get Mr. man here "early" as it was, but I honestly did not expect it to start the second this child sliped forth into this world...surprise.    As described previously the moments after Matthew's birth were tense and confusing and I'd be lying if I didnt aknowledge that they were dissapointing too.  See, we had a birth plan...had a plan...we wanted immediate skin to skin contact between Matthew and I for as long as possible, medical checks and APGAR's to be taken while he rested on my chest and we worked on geting to know each other.  Prolonged cord clamping to ensure he got the full benefit of that last placental transfusion into his little body.  We had decided to breast feed so we requested no bottles and no pacis to avoid as much confusion as possible, and we wanted to try baby led latching, allowing Matthew to guide our first nursing session...such grand plans...and all reasons that we chose to pursue natural child birth.  How many of thoses wishes came true...zero.  Now dont get me wrong, I like to think I'm a rational person and as such had aknowledged in our birth plan that these were all the things we wanted to have happen, baring any medical complications, but who in their right mind expects complications...especially on the level of ours...lesson one:  Hi Mom and Dad, you are no longer in control of your world!  Love Matthew
Score;  baby: one     parents: zero

However, the second lesson rested nestled in the terrifying moments of the first; live and let God.  You may think you have the plan, but the plan has long been made.  Sit back, try to relax and take each moment as it is presented to you cause they are all, the good and the bad, gifts.  And now as we try to find our new routine here at home, with our perfectly healthy, perfectly wonderful gift from God (as his name implies) I'm trying really hard to stop holding my breath, waiting for that next lesson.  I know they are coming, some in more pleasant ways than other, but each as important as the next.  So naive to think I would be the teacher....


Yours truly,
A perpetual student of life
Lori Ann

Welcome to the world...

Matthew Allen Tamayo made his big debut at 9:32 pm on Thursday January 19, 2012. Weighing in at a whopping 8lb even and 20 inches long...where was I storing all that baby?!?...Somehow being on the outside has effected his ability to blog so its on mom for a while until we can decode his new "language"

WARNING: The remainder of the blog is the story of my labor and Matthew's birth, complete and unedited. If you have never given birth or witnessed it this could shatter any illusions you may have had so take head ;) Its messy, its brutal, its beautiful and it is hands down the most profound experience of my life.

I woke up on the morning of the 19th with contractions that were noticeably different from what I had been experiencing for the last few days. We were already scheduled for our regular 40 week appointment that morning at 11, and once there they confirmed what I already suspected, we were in early labor (3 cent. dilated and 80% effaced) Nell said she could break my water and send me over to labor and delivery but that she didn't recommend that, I told her it was not our preference either and that I would like to head home and let labor progress naturally & see where things went. She told us to call her in the morning if nothing had happened, but I knew deep down that this was our baby's birthday.

When Mike and I started this journey way back in May we didn't set out to have a natural birth. Certainly I knew women who had done it and was in awe of the process but I am also a woman who appreciates modern medicine and was (and remain) never against the idea of drugs! But somewhere around the midpoint of my pregnancy this plan had started to form ( I have NO idea where it came from). What I do know for a fact is that this plan solidified after we found Christi and Aimee with Birth Insights and signed up for their 8 week birthing class. The knowledge, information, techniques, and guidance they shared with us gave us the confidence to chart this course and I really do mean "us".   Mike didn't just "go" to these classes with me but was truly present and interested, he listened and learned and as a result we made the decision together, for Matthew.

He was the best support I could have ask for. As my labor progressed at home and my surges got stronger and closer together he worked to help me with various positions to manage the pain. He applied counter pressure and tried to keep me as relaxed as possible...but this is still Mike we are talking about here, and my gadget guru husband informed me around 2pm that he was running to Best Buy to pick up the new LCD backpack for his gopro...determined to go all Martin Scorsese on this delivery. I told him to hurry up and I got into the shower. The shower definitely helped, don't get me wrong it still hurt like hell, but it did seem to dull it in some ways. Mike returned about 45 min. later and I was out of the shower and back on my hands and knees (which is where I spent the majority of my labor) and he worked me through a few other position we had learned in our class. Somewhere along 3:30 or 4 I remember starting to tremble and get cold (from what we learned in class I knew this to be a sign of transition in to active labor) and I decided to get back into the shower around 4:30, partly for warmth and partly for comfort. At this point things really started to intensify and I noticed a definite change in my surges and although my frequency stayed around 3 min. apart the duration almost from the beginning had been at least one minute plus (probably all that red raspberry leaf tea...thanks ladies) Despite knowing the goal was 2-3 min in frequency, this is where I say KNOW YOUR BODY! I had the sense that things were progressing quickly and felt like I would be more comfortable at the hospital. Around 5pm I told Mike I wanted to make our way. Almost as soon as I got out of the shower and dressed my water broke (although we did discover later it was probably just my fore bag) By 5:20 we were on our way to DePaul...in rush hour traffic no less...thanks baby! I have to pause here and laughingly remember that no matter how prepared you are ahead of time the moments of "getting ready to go to the hospital" are as frantic and funny as they look on TV, at least as I remember them. Despite having the car packed Mike is still running around for last minute items- cramming bites of my leftover grilled cheese from lunch in his mouth as he passed by it and despite all his planning and effort walking right out of the door WITHOUT the gopro with its shinny new LCD screen! :)

By the time we got to the hospital I was deep in to managing my labor and as Mike pulled up to drop me off this wonderful man, I have no idea who he was or why he was there, offered to wheel me up to L&D while Mike parked the car. PRAISE THE LORD! He talked to me on the elevator and told me he and his wife had delivered two children at DePaul and assured me how great it was, he even encouraged me for how I worked through a surge on our way up. He dropped me off at the desk and disappeared, I never got his name and although Im sure I managed to say thank you, I don't feel like it was enough - so Im sending my thanks into the cosmos -hopefully he gets it, the kindness of strangers does still exist!
They got me into a room and I hit  my "position" of all 4's on the bed.  I barely even saw who was helping me, between being in a haze from the pain and having my face burried in the pillow, they hooked me up to the monitors for a period to track his heart rate and reaction to my labor and then my midwife arrived. (I do remember Dr. Golpira coming in a one point as well but again as my ass in the air  was the general greeting everyone received I didn't really see her either...)
Jennifer  was the midwife on call that day and she would ultimately be the one to help us get Matthew here.  I also have to recognize my amazing labor nurses Megan and Devon.  This team, along with my phenomenal husband were my dream team, I couldn't have asked for more.  She checked my progress around 6pm and announced that I was 5cm and still 80% (which I did NOT find nearly as encouraging as they made it sound).  Knowing that first timers can normally expect a centimeter of dialation an hour the prospect of 5 more hours of this before I could begin to push was...definiatley enough to test my resolve.   She told me that my bag of water was still in tact and that if she ruptured it it would really get things going.  I also knew this would really intensify things and I wasn't sure I was ready for that.  She gave me half an hour or so to think about it and when she returned I took her advice and let her proceed.   It was at this point that we first heard the word meconium.
There was much debate back and forth about whether there was evidence of meconium in my fluid and ultimatly it was never deterimed one way or another, and we proceeded on with my labor.  The breaking of my water did get me to somewhere between 6-7cm and as I suspected and feared the surges became much more frequent and much more intense.  I dont think I has illusions of a quiet labor but I certainly didnt think I would be as vocal as I was.  I moaned through the surges with mike working to keep  my tone low to keep things as open as possible.  I moved back to the shower for a time and then back to hands and knees (and face in the pillow) on the bed.  Then the nausea hit and it hit hard.  I had suspected I would get sick.  When I had my kidney stone episode in college I remembered vomiting from the pain, so I figured that was a natural response for my body...I also knew this to be on of the signs of transition...and so the puking began.  I puked and puked and puked, I seriously questioned my ability to do this as I battled contractions and vomit, but low and behold I puked myself right to a 9!  Turns out puking is the perfect pressure to force open your cervix...yea vomit!  At this point I was told I could try pushing to see if I could complete and I experienced a total mental shift.  Knowing that I was close to meeting my baby and that I had some semblance of control over what was happening was like having new life breathed into me...game on body!
Pushing ended up lasting a lot longer than I expected (and as a result was a lot messier...you do the math) but  just like Christi and Aimee taught us by allowing my body to "do what it was made to do" I was more or less in an altered state of conciseness by this point.  My perception of time was completely suspended.  Iv'e never been high before, but I'd have to imagine it feels something like this.  I actually learned several days after delivery that while I though I had only pushed for maybe an hour and a half it was actually close to three hours!  I was also told I probably could have saved an hour had baby boy not had his hand wedged up under his chin!
I have to say, despite certain unpleasantries, pushing was my favorite part of labor.  Besides finally feeling like an active participant who had some control, I truly remember it to be the most painless part of the whole process.  All I knew is that with every contraction and every push we were that much closer to meeting out little man.  I was so relaxed with the pushing in fact that after the baby crowned I had to be reminded that I actually needed to finish pushing him all the way out!  With one little nudge and a great big relief Matthew Allen Tamayo entered the world, all 8lbs of him!  As they plopped him on my stomach and I reached to hold him the mood in the room shifted significantly.  The next 5 minutes were simultaneously the longest and fastest of my life.  It was clear he was in trouble, it was clear on their faces and in their voices.  The commands of "no don't stimulate the baby, don't let him breathe" and the phrase "thick mec"repeated over and over.  His cord was clamped and cut quickly, a right that Mike was robbed of, and in less than 30 seconds my baby, this little person that had grown inside me for the last 10 months was whisked away, I never even saw his face.  This is a part of the story that Mike could tell better though I don't know that he would really like to relive it.  I was trapped in the bed, my view blocked, still really "high" from all the endorphins, but Mike, he saw everything.  The peids team went to work using a laryngoscope placed way down into his chest to suction as much of the meconium out as they could before allowing him to breathe.  No one really knew at that point how much damage was already done.  The estimate is that he passed the meconium 12-24 hours before his was born, and that it might be what actually put me into labor, but he had been "breathing" it in his fluid for a very long time. After what seemed like a lifetime they finally worked him and allowed him to breathe.  His cry was weak, and gravely and clearly not the sign of a "healthy" baby but he cried all the same and I was hugely  relieved.  As they worked on Matthew and prepared to move him to the nursery they continued to work on me.  My placenta was delivered quickly, or it felt quick to me.  She pulled on the remainder of his cord and it came right out...it looked ungodly.  Just as Matthew was covered with the meconium my placenta was meconium stained as well and that was our first big clue as to how long he had been exposed.  Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was shock, but while I knew he was struggling I just never allowed myself to realize how serious it really was, I guess honestly none of us knew at this point how serious it was.  I just kept thinking, meconium...happens all the time, he'll need a little help and then he'll be fine.  I just had no idea.  As they were trying to leave the room with him, one of my labor nurses Megan ask them to at least allow me to hold him for a moment.  There was obvious displeasure for this on the face of the pediatricians but she really lobbied for me and for that I will be forever grateful.  They placed him in my arms, my baby, long enough to take a quick family photo and for me to kiss his head and then he was gone.  I wouldn't hold my baby again for another 7 days.  The longest 7 days of my life.