Cradle of Love

relaxing, originally uploaded by Maleah Jack and Joe.

When I was 9 there was a doll called a "Real Baby". Perhaps other girls my age would remember it, but it was never huge like the Cabbage Patch.
It was the size and approximate wieght of an actual baby, with arms and legs of plastic but a body of soft heavy material.
I wanted one more than anything.
The doll had a distinctive box, the front was slanted at about a 45 degree angle, meaning that when the box was wrapped it was still easy to identify.
My folks were never the type to buy us whatever we got it in our heads to want, but that Christmas I did receive the "Real Baby" doll.
Now, there are some things from childhood I still have, like the original Care Bear (the brown one, Hugs A Lot?) and my Bully bear. I don't have the "Real Baby" doll anymore, nor do I even remember if I named her.
What I do still have is the cradle.

For years my grandfatehr had a workshop where he made handcrafted furniture for a business he ran called Laurel Specialties. For Christmas that year, at what must have been the behest of my parents, he made me a cradle.

When I was pregnant with Justin I thought of using the cradle, but since the opportunity never arose, it was always in the back of my head. When I found out that I was pregnant with Jack I knew it would come to good use.

We use the cradle all the time now, but most importantly, my Paw Paw has pictures letting him know that I was using it, and how much it means to me. He's proud, and proud doesn't begin to explain how I feel that I can use it, and pass it on to further generations.

People nowadays don't have heirlooms like this to pass on as often as used to occur. Rarely will someone be able to say "My Grandmother knitted this blanket for the baby" or "My Grandfather built this cradle". Unfortunately these are arts being lost in modern times.
All of which makes me all the more proud to show this picture.

It makes me happy

Jack isn't even two weeks old and I am in my pre-pregnancy pants.*





*My pre-pregnancy pants were big on me

It's times like these

Laughter is a wonderful thing.
There are times that you are in tears from exhaustion, pleading with God and the baby to fix whatever is wrong.
Then there is the "shit volcano" (Joe named it) that we got last night. And oh how we laughed.

Jack was fussy last night, for a very long time. We could not figure out what was wrong, so when we started hearing tell-tale poop noises we were a little relieved. We started to change him but there was nothing in his diaper. "Oh," I said, "It must have been gas". At that time the noise started again and I said "like that" only to have it followed by an outpouring of poop. Mind you, he has no diaper on.

Joe and I looked at eachother and just started laughing, trying not to think of the mess we now get to clean up. Well, the laughter must have startled Jack because he started again. There is still no diaper anywhere near his butt. At this point I am doubled over in laughter Perhaps it is my vantage point, or I just got lucky, but I happened to look up right as Jack started peeing. Straight up and at Joe.

I backed aroung the corner and maybe I should have said something in warning, because I don't think Joe realized what was going on until the pee hit his shirt. It's on the floor, on Joe, on the changing table and on Jack's face. Whatever composure we had is long gone. I wonder what the neighbors thought of us when there is a crying baby and we are laughing our heads off like a couple of loons at 2 AM.

A bath and three hours later and Jack was sleeping quietly in his crib.
He's a wonderful baby.

(Here's some irony for you, Jack just started pooping. I think I will wait until he's done to change him)

blue baby

blue baby, originally uploaded by Maleah Jack and Joe.

In focus pic of Jack in his Wallaby, but not as bright.

very blue baby

very blue baby, originally uploaded by Maleah Jack and Joe.

Out of focus pic of Jack in his Wallaby.

family

family, originally uploaded by Maleah Jack and Joe.

I love this photo

If he's yellow and they make him blue won't he be green?

Jack has jaundice. The prevailing thought is that it is due to the bruising he received in the delivery process. He decended so quickly that he ended up a bit bruised. He was purple. (If you haven't gotten a pic yet let me know and I will email you one. I swear I'll get off my ass and pick a hosting service so we can get them online)
Anyway, the bruising can cause jaundice. His bilirubin levels are fairly high, but not dangerously so, so we got a wallaby.
A wallaby is a fiberoptic light belt that wraps around him shooting in UV light to break up the toxins to speed up their demise. He glows blue at night like a nightlight. Picture ET's heart but blue. It's kind of funny actually. When you get over the fact that he's hooked up to a machine that has a huge tube running from it to the belt wrapped around his body.

He's dealing with this far better than I would be if it were I. Actually, he's dealing with this better than I am. I had a breakdown crying fit this morning, partially due to frustration, partially due to exhaistion, and partially due to worry. It wasn't pretty. And boy howdy is Joe a patient saint of a man. Seriously, if you know me you know how bad I can be. Imagine me post-partum and hormonal. I'm a bit of a bitch.

Also, if I sound disjointed and stilted in my writing it's the exhaustion. Well, and the fact that I am not always a good writer, but right now I seem to be thinking in these short declarative sentances. And my boobs sting.

No offense to any hippies who may read this

People talk about natural childbirth as if it were a holy sacred thing. That one must be unfeeling and evil to want pain killers for the process. Your baby will be sluggish, it will take longer, you'll damage his brain, etc.
I have now done it both ways and I just want to tell those hippies to shut the hell up.

When I had Justin I wanted drugs. I said the day I found out I was pregnant that I wanted drugs. Unfortunately with it being Rolla, there only being one anesthetist and my doctor being a jerkwad, I never got any. So I did it naturally. Yes, I lived. Yes, Justin was healthy. Dear god in heaven did it hurt though. I was hallucinating the pain was so intense.
When we got to the hospital we tried breathing, and trivia (which worked just as well as the breathing) and when it got to the point that the pain felt like it was breaking my back I started to inquire about my drugs. Then I started to request my drugs more adamantly. Then I cried. I got my drugs. First I got something called stadol, which is injected through the I.V. It made me very high. I could still feel the contractions, but they were much more tolerable. Once that started to wear off my best friend the anesthesiologist showed up.

I had no idea.
I had absolutely no idea. I thought that an epidural would do what the stadol did, I would still be in pain, but not bone crushing agonizing pain.
There is no pain. I could feel a couple of them, but mostly just to know they were occurring. When it came time to push I was still able to recognize that feeling clearly and I had no trouble at all pushing.

By no trouble, I am saying that I literally pushed five times and he was out.
I love epidurals. I love 'em, I love 'em, I want to have their children. So to speak. This is an amazing thing. It in no way complicated things (though I do know that can happen), it slowed nothing down, and it made the experience something I am not trying to actively block out.

If you are going to have a baby don't listen to the hippies. Take the drugs. You will thank me for it.

In other news, today I got the most sleep I've had since the baby was born. I missed three quarters of "Lost" but it was so worth it. My parents have been a godsend.

TOMORROW: Adventures in jaundice, or: why my baby is glowing blue.

I have gorgeous nipples

We arrived home today, and Jack is upset with me for allowing bits of him to be cut off. We have some pictures, we just need to get them up on a photo sharing site so we can post them here. But not of the bits being cut off. There aren't any pictures of that.

There were a lot of things this weekend that I kept telling myself to remember so that I could talk about them here, so there may be odd hospital comments for the next week or so.
For instance, I don't know if it's lactation counsellors in general or just the ones at Methodist, but these are some strange ladies. One of them told me I had gorgeous nipples. Joe agreed.

I planned on writing more, but I find myself unable to srting together coherent sentances at the moment. (The above took me over 5 minutes to write) I've had so little sleep that if Jack weren't due to be fed in an hour or so I'd be going to bed. Two days of being a parent and I want to go to bed at 7 at night.