Even with all the commotion in our house, Marcus is a good sleeper.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Going Home
The time came for us to leave the hospital, but we had to wait around for a while to discharged. I had seen some mysterious blisters on the inside of Marcus' lower lip that we wanted to get checked out before leaving. No one seemed to know what they were...and that was after 7 pediatricians came in our room to take a look. Marcus seemed perfectly fine and unaffected by them...so we got the green light to go home.
So tiny in the infant carrier. Our ride home was uneventful, but it was pouring down rain. Daddy did practice some restraint with driving like a typical Bostonian, so we made it home safe and sound.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Hanging Out in the Hospital
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Meeting Big Brother and Getting a Name
Visiting hours at the hospital were very restricted because of the threat of the swine flu. Owen wasn't able to come visit until 4 pm that evening and we were very excited to finally have him meet "the baby".
This was Owen's first glimpse of the baby, whom we still didn't have a name for yet. He was very gentile and calm for the visit, and enjoyed holding the baby's little hand.
Cuddling up with my two boys was wonderful.
Then it was time to get serious about picking a name. He couldn't be called Baby Kuder forever. Brian had printed out a huge list of famous people's names whose last name was Roberts. I believe his thinking was that since we wanted to use Robert as the middle name, he wanted to determine what sounded good with that name. The two front runner names has been Ian and Sebastian, but for some reason neither of us were completely settled on either name. While we both really liked Ian, we thought it sounded too similar to Owen. Very rhyme-y. We had asked Owen what he thought of those names, and we never really got any kind of response from him. I had always liked the name Marcus and brought that up again. When Brian asked Owen how he liked the name Marcus, he started shouting "Marcus, Marcus". This seemed to be a sign, so Brian went along and agreed to name him Marcus.
Marcus, Mommy, Owen and Daddy.
Before going home, Owen had to give the baby lots of kisses and hold his hand some more. It was so adorable.
This was Owen's first glimpse of the baby, whom we still didn't have a name for yet. He was very gentile and calm for the visit, and enjoyed holding the baby's little hand.
Cuddling up with my two boys was wonderful.
Then it was time to get serious about picking a name. He couldn't be called Baby Kuder forever. Brian had printed out a huge list of famous people's names whose last name was Roberts. I believe his thinking was that since we wanted to use Robert as the middle name, he wanted to determine what sounded good with that name. The two front runner names has been Ian and Sebastian, but for some reason neither of us were completely settled on either name. While we both really liked Ian, we thought it sounded too similar to Owen. Very rhyme-y. We had asked Owen what he thought of those names, and we never really got any kind of response from him. I had always liked the name Marcus and brought that up again. When Brian asked Owen how he liked the name Marcus, he started shouting "Marcus, Marcus". This seemed to be a sign, so Brian went along and agreed to name him Marcus.
Marcus, Mommy, Owen and Daddy.
Before going home, Owen had to give the baby lots of kisses and hold his hand some more. It was so adorable.
Diapering Daddy
After we were done with the whole birth, we were taken to our room in the maternity ward. I insisted that Brian go home to get a few hours of sleep and wake up with Owen. I was still a bit jelly legged, so I wasn't allowed to really be in the room with the baby alone unless I was awake and holding him. This made sense since I couldn't really pop out of bed if something were wrong, so he went off to the nursery for a bit while I unsuccessfully tried to get some sleep.
Daddy came back later that morning, and was treated to a dirty diaper. He got the honors of changing it. What a Dad!
Daddy came back later that morning, and was treated to a dirty diaper. He got the honors of changing it. What a Dad!
The Birth of Marcus
So the week leading up to Marcus' delivery was filled with contractions here and there. The Monday night before was the most intense with contractions getting close to 10 minutes apart until I finally fell asleep. I was uncomfortable since he had dropped down and the contractions were coming and going. I just chalked it all up to Braxton Hicks Contractions, figuring my body was just getting ready. By the time Saturday afternoon came around, I could tell things were getting more intense. I spent the whole day alone with Owen, because Brian was off doing a fantasy baseball draft. So by the time he got home that afternoon, I was a bit cranky. We had been invited to a kid's birthday party from 4 to 7 that evening, and I had a hard time deciding whether we should go or not. We ended up going an hour late, but it was a nice distraction for me as contractions were coming and going sporadically. I was using a stop watch feature on Brian's cell phone but wasn't paying that much attention to how consistent the contractions were coming. They were anywhere from 7 to 12 minutes apart and they weren't terribly uncomfortable. When we left around 7, I figured I still had a ways to go.
When we got home, I got serious about writing down the times and realized they were a bit closer and more consistent...4 to 7 minutes apart with an odd one thrown in here and there that was more like 12 minutes from the last. I called my OB's office and was told to wait a little longer until they were all a bit more consistent. With Owen in bed, we decided it was time to call our friend, Ana, to come over to stay with him. While all this was going on, the contractions kept coming and getting to a point where I was uncomfortable during them. I was glad to be getting in the car on the way to the hospital. On our drive, Brian convinced me we should stop for some food, so McDonald's it was. I ate a few fries, but that was all that I was in the mood to eat. When we got to the hospital around 8:45 pm, I told Brian that we needed to get to the maternity ward through the emergency room. When he saw that it was $25 dollars to park overnight in the emergency room garage, he decided that we should park at a meter on the street, and make his pregnant, contracting wife walk into the hospital. What a gentleman! When we get to the maternity ward, I sat down while Brian took care of the admissions forms. Why did I fill out that pre-admission paperwork to only have to sit there and wait? Why do they tell you to go to the hospital when you are uncomfortable and then expect you to fill out admission forms? Not a great system.
Patiently waiting amongst contractions!
The hospital seemed fairly dead. We were then taken to a prenatal waiting area and patiently sat until a nurse took us to a room and got me hooked up to monitors. The baby's contractions and heartbeat where monitored for what seemed like forever. I kept having to go pee, and all I wanted to do was walk around. The bed was so uncomfortable. Finally the nurse came back to see how farI was dilated...and she determined I was 5 to 6 cm. Half way there!
An IV was put in, then I was escorted to a birthing room. At this point I was REALLY uncomfortable. I had to stop walking in order to get through a contraction. My OB, Virgina Simmons, had just showed up to the hospital when we were walking to our room, and I was so happy that she was the doctor on call that night.The labor room nurse was getting me checked in and asking all kinds of medical history questions. I was still standing around at this point, and I made some comment to Brian that I really felt like I needed to go poop. This silly proclamation had an effect that you wouldn't believe. The nurse ran out of the room to get my doctor, who immediately got me into the bed to check me. I was 8 cm. At this point she asked if I wanted an epidural...because it was now or never. She made some comment about how it was all "unneeded pain" and for some reason that just spoke to me. I definitely wanted that epidural. The anesthesiologist came and went and I must have been out of it, because I don't remember it much. It wasn't long before I felt much more comfortable, though my legs felt like jelly. At least I didn't feel like I had to go poop anymore!
The sweet relief of an epidural!
I think it was around 11 pm at this point because I recall the nurses changing shifts. It wasn't long before my doctor checked me again and I was 10 cm and ready to go. The pushing began and for some reason my doctor gave me the impression that she didn't expect me to take long to push out this baby. Turned out I wasn't as productive in pushing as she thought. I was told that he was slow to get through my pelvic bone. It seemed like I was pushing forever. At one point they were concerned about the baby's heartbeat getting a bit low, so an oxygen mask was put on me. After an hour of pushing, my doctor started talking about using a vacuum to pull the baby out because the heart rate was becoming a concern. When my doctor began discussing the possible risks of using a vacuum, I became a bit anxious about it. It was at this time that she also decided to cut an episiotomy to also help. Somewhere in all this I mustered up as much strength as possible and during the next two contractions I had the little guy pushed out. Brian was all set to cut his cord, but it was apparently a really thick cord and was wedged over his neck and shoulder, so the doctor needed to cut it right away. All the work and discomfort were over, and we had this perfect little guy. There is nothing like the sense of relief and pride that I felt when they laid his tiny body on my belly.
6 lbs. 9 oz. and 19 inches long
Then the next hard step came...what name were we going to pick?!?!!
Just perfect!
When we got home, I got serious about writing down the times and realized they were a bit closer and more consistent...4 to 7 minutes apart with an odd one thrown in here and there that was more like 12 minutes from the last. I called my OB's office and was told to wait a little longer until they were all a bit more consistent. With Owen in bed, we decided it was time to call our friend, Ana, to come over to stay with him. While all this was going on, the contractions kept coming and getting to a point where I was uncomfortable during them. I was glad to be getting in the car on the way to the hospital. On our drive, Brian convinced me we should stop for some food, so McDonald's it was. I ate a few fries, but that was all that I was in the mood to eat. When we got to the hospital around 8:45 pm, I told Brian that we needed to get to the maternity ward through the emergency room. When he saw that it was $25 dollars to park overnight in the emergency room garage, he decided that we should park at a meter on the street, and make his pregnant, contracting wife walk into the hospital. What a gentleman! When we get to the maternity ward, I sat down while Brian took care of the admissions forms. Why did I fill out that pre-admission paperwork to only have to sit there and wait? Why do they tell you to go to the hospital when you are uncomfortable and then expect you to fill out admission forms? Not a great system.
Patiently waiting amongst contractions!The hospital seemed fairly dead. We were then taken to a prenatal waiting area and patiently sat until a nurse took us to a room and got me hooked up to monitors. The baby's contractions and heartbeat where monitored for what seemed like forever. I kept having to go pee, and all I wanted to do was walk around. The bed was so uncomfortable. Finally the nurse came back to see how farI was dilated...and she determined I was 5 to 6 cm. Half way there!
An IV was put in, then I was escorted to a birthing room. At this point I was REALLY uncomfortable. I had to stop walking in order to get through a contraction. My OB, Virgina Simmons, had just showed up to the hospital when we were walking to our room, and I was so happy that she was the doctor on call that night.The labor room nurse was getting me checked in and asking all kinds of medical history questions. I was still standing around at this point, and I made some comment to Brian that I really felt like I needed to go poop. This silly proclamation had an effect that you wouldn't believe. The nurse ran out of the room to get my doctor, who immediately got me into the bed to check me. I was 8 cm. At this point she asked if I wanted an epidural...because it was now or never. She made some comment about how it was all "unneeded pain" and for some reason that just spoke to me. I definitely wanted that epidural. The anesthesiologist came and went and I must have been out of it, because I don't remember it much. It wasn't long before I felt much more comfortable, though my legs felt like jelly. At least I didn't feel like I had to go poop anymore!
The sweet relief of an epidural!I think it was around 11 pm at this point because I recall the nurses changing shifts. It wasn't long before my doctor checked me again and I was 10 cm and ready to go. The pushing began and for some reason my doctor gave me the impression that she didn't expect me to take long to push out this baby. Turned out I wasn't as productive in pushing as she thought. I was told that he was slow to get through my pelvic bone. It seemed like I was pushing forever. At one point they were concerned about the baby's heartbeat getting a bit low, so an oxygen mask was put on me. After an hour of pushing, my doctor started talking about using a vacuum to pull the baby out because the heart rate was becoming a concern. When my doctor began discussing the possible risks of using a vacuum, I became a bit anxious about it. It was at this time that she also decided to cut an episiotomy to also help. Somewhere in all this I mustered up as much strength as possible and during the next two contractions I had the little guy pushed out. Brian was all set to cut his cord, but it was apparently a really thick cord and was wedged over his neck and shoulder, so the doctor needed to cut it right away. All the work and discomfort were over, and we had this perfect little guy. There is nothing like the sense of relief and pride that I felt when they laid his tiny body on my belly.
6 lbs. 9 oz. and 19 inches longThen the next hard step came...what name were we going to pick?!?!!
Just perfect!
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