Birthing Classes: Day 2

That was a lot of things. For ten hours over Saturday/Sunday (with Saturday's recap published prior to this one), we sat in remarkably uncomfortable chairs at Baptist Hospital in Nashville and learned about baby things. Yesterday (Sunday), we went back and were immediately treated to a video showing a Caesarian Section (not named after Julius Caesar, as Wikipedia confirmed for me in the middle of the video).

As we ate dinner following the completion of the class, where I sincerely hope that we will be given priority delivery as a reward, we were discussing the pros/cons of taking said class. The Con list was small, and also petty:

*It was on a holiday weekend (which actually made it a little nicer, since we both at least have today off).
*It was long.
*The chairs weren't comfortable - and I'm not the one with a cantaloupe in my breadbasket.

But the Pros list was impressive:
*The class was very helpful.
*We learned valuable information, such as: where to park, where to take Kami after we park, what the room where she will deliver looks like, what the room where she'll be recovering looks like.
*You can bring music and/or DVDs with you for delivery. Not kidding: Kami wants to hear this song, this song, and this song while she is in labor. They all make Kami happy, the last one mainly because I karaoke'd it on a cruise ship in front of her entire family. That's a story for another time. And we'll have a separate post on the Mix du Hospital
*You can fly coach, meaning, the basic room, which includes a bed (for her), TV/DVD combo, bathroom, a couch for dad - I tried it out, it's not too bad - but give me 4-5 minutes and I can be asleep on a hardwood floor - and room service for her. For $100/night, you can upgrade to Business Class, where you get all of the above, but with a sofa-bed for dad, extra seating, and room service for both of us. In Coach, I have to scrounge up my own food. There was also an autographed Matt Hasselbeck jersey on the wall, if that means anything to anybody. You have to pay that at discharge - it can't just be tacked on to the bill. We signed up for one, because we had to do it yesterday, with the understanding that we can decline it when we get to the hospital because, you know, that's what will be on my mind: whether or not I can order room service. Kami and I have to discuss how comfortable she is with me leaving for 20 minutes to go get something to eat after she has our first-born child. Maybe I can bring a coffee pot. The milk will already be in the room.
*Baptist Hospital actually takes an impressive number of precautions against Baby Stealin'. When we come in for delivery, we are given bracelets. And when the baby comes, she is given a matching bracelet that they check before we leave. She'll also get a little tag on her foot with a GPS tracker. This is a much more effective system than my plan of marking the bottom of her foot with a Sharpie, just so I knew which one was ours. I don't know if that's reassuring that they take those steps, or if it's disconcerting that they had to take those steps in the first place. Bottom line: Ain't nobody stealin' my baby.
*Now I have a better understanding of what Kami will go through when it's Labor Day. I knew - theoretically - how a baby leaves the womb, but I wasn't sure how a watermelon actually came out of a lemon. Now I know. Sometimes, too much knowledge can be a bad thing, but in this case I'm assuming it's better not to be a bumbling idiot. The more you know...
*Ultimately, it was worth the ten hours/$125 because we just feel better for going. We know, purely from a physical surroundings point of view, what to expect. It's worth $125 just to know where to go when we do have to head to the hospital. I feel like a better parent, even if I'm more overwhelmed now than I was on Friday night.

One aside: perhaps you remember the March 22 post on me being emasculated by Kami, though - alledgedly - not on purpose. Well, it happened again yesterday. Dads were given a baby doll, which I doted on (naturally). And I was holding said doll, sort of being a little too stiff with it, and Kami whispered to me, "Use the football hold." I stared back at her blankly. And held her torso as though I was throwing a football. Kami says, and because of the shock, a little more loudly than I would have preferred, "Don't you know how to hold a football?!"* The guy behind me laughed, so I had to cut his throat. She took the baby, and held it like the Heisman Trophy pose. I said, "Well of course I know how to hold a football like that. 'Football hold' is too vague.'" But the damage had been done, and I now have to drive around Nashville to settle some scores.

All in all, it was a good weekend. Today I clean out the back of the car to put the stroller and car seat in, and we go to Lowe's to get some paint for her nursery. Five weeks to go, give or take.

(* - Kami disagrees with the telling of this story. Of course, if she told our Baby Story, many of the themes and details would be quite different. But this is my version, and you can't say you weren't warned.)

Regard this man, for he is not the same

This was taken this morning, prior to Day 1 of Birthing Classes (rescheduled thanks to stomach flu a couple of weeks ago). This picture, of me - naturally, shows a different man than the one who writes this now. For that man had never seen Crowning. This man has. I

So the class itself was quite helpful, teaching us a variety of useful things about distinguishing false labor from actual labor (if Kami's abdomen is as hard as the chair, it's for real. And those chairs were remarkably uncomfortable.) The videos of a natural birth compared to a birth with the help of an epidural were helpful, if only for me to realize that I need a lot of time for prayer in humble supplication for not being the one with the human growing in my tummy.

There's a pool going with Kami's family, apparently, on how long it will take me to pass out in the delivery room. Not "if" I will pass out, but "how quickly" will I pass out. Over/Under is apparently 3.5 minutes, so get your bets in now. It almost happened, but not when you would expect. The Crowning video was unpleasant, to be sure, but I wasn't close to vomiting or passing out. However, when they showed how the epidural works...that's when things got clammy and sideways. But I didn't throw up or pass out. The Puckett's Grocery Breakfast Burrito with extra jalapenos I ate, for about 15 minutes, felt as though it would be appearing for an encore. But everything stayed down.

Before we continue, everyone knows how the epidural works, right? They give you a pain blocker, and then run a needle into the outer part of your spinal column. In this needle is a tube that they leave in the outer part of your spinal column, which pumps paralysis into you. You can't really feel when you're pushing, what you're pushing for, and you allegedly have not a care in the world.

The lady next to us did not fare so well, and almost passed out at that point. Funny thing is, Kami - like me - felt more quease at the epidural video than the natural birth video, and almost passed out. One little fact they casually threw out is that 96% of Nashville women who deliver at Baptist Hospital have the epidural. Among the 20 or so couples in the class, Kami and another lady were the only ones not planning on the epidural. When Kami said she wasn't going to get one, everyone looked at her like she spat obscenities in German and then threw up down her shirt. Kami's tolerance for pain is quite high (it's at least as high as her tolerance for my snide remarks), she's stubborn as a mule, and is flat-out against having Paralysis pumped into her spinal column. I can't say I blame her. In the video of the natural childbirth, the guy (whom they refer to as The Coach, which is a title I wouldn't mind carrying over to the postpartum side of things) didn't do much but roll his wife around on an exercise ball, tell her she was doing great, that she was beautiful, and generally stay out of the way and not say anything stupid. I can do those things - it's my Thanksgiving Dinner job description.

Other helpful bits of tid included the advice not to come to the hospital when you first go into labor. Instead, you can go into the 1st stage of labor (there are three: early, transition, and HolyCrapIt'sHappening) for 8-12 hours. So wait until the contractions are evenly spaced out (I have it on my phone) and then come on in and get all labored up. It's also worth noting that the Starbucks in the cafeteria is not open on weekends. So in addition to the baby not needing to come between 7-9am due to traffic concerns, Emsley needs to come during the week, so I can get a decent cup of coffee. Because this is about me, apparently.

We apparently picked the best place to have the baby, since, you know...

(Isn't my wife gorgeous?) And if the Tennessean says it's so, then you can pretty much guess that it's at least decent.

More tomorrow, when we complete Day Two, and get our Childbirth Badge from the Preg Scouts.

Beautiful Songs for a Beautiful Girl

That's sappy, huh? It's the name of a Mix CD I made Kami on August 11, 2002. How do I know this? Because, in cleaning out Emmy's closet, I stumbled across a box full of CDs (I had a major problem from ages 14-22 about buying and making CDs. Now I use MOG, and pay $5/month as penance for the Napster Guilt I feel). I told Kami I loved her for the first time on July 25, 2002, in a parking lot on Music Row in Nashville, watching Wilco play a show for free. Kami wasn't so sure. I think I had nicotine poisoning from chain-smoking the whole show in preparation for telling her how I felt (I had a minor problem with smoking from ages 21-23). What's on this CD?

1. All I Want Is You - U2
One of my most favorite of all the U2 songs.

2. Beautiful - Flickerstick
Flickerstick, if you recall, was on some VH1 Battle of the Bands, in the early 2000s. I loved them. The one song that you may have heard (which also made me a very minor celebrity in Abilene, Texas during my senior year at ACU, thanks to karaoke. I was recognized in the mall as Flickerstick Guy.) was Choloform (The One You Love).

3. Better Than Beautiful - Jeb Loy Nichols
It is telling about Jeb Loy Nichols' popularity that there is not a YouTube video of this song. But it's a good one.

4. Say You Miss Me - Wilco
There are very few bands around as good as Wilco.

5. Sleep Better - Pete Yorn
I'm ambivalent about Pete Yorn now. But his first album is a good one, and this is a great song.

6. Here Comes Your Man - The Pixies
Presumptuous, no?

7. Steal My Kisses - Ben Harper
I liked the, "I pulled into Nashville, Tennessee" line.

8. 3rd of October - Matthew Ryan
Clearly, this song had more of an impact on me ten years ago than it does now. I had to Shazam the song to figure out what it was.

9. City Love - John Mayer
Say what you want about John Mayer, but that Room For Squares album was solid. And this is a solid song, especially for, you know, girls.

10. I Get My Beat - Richard Ashcroft
Ashcroft was the lead singer of The Verve, and decided that The Verve couldn't hold him creatively, so he made solo albums that sounded a lot like what The Verve would have done.

11. Lost - David Garza
David Garza is one of the best artists you've never heard of. And you won't hear this one on YouTube, either.

12. Shiver - Coldplay
I still like Coldplay. Again, I don't care what any of you say. And this one was sly, because it talks about the object of desire not paying any attention to the subject. POW!

13. Sail Away - David Gray
No explanation needed.

14. A Minute Longer - Stereophonics
Yes, I was - and still am - into some BritRock. But this song is tender, and accurately described how I felt about Kami. Pardon the video accompanying the song...it's weird.

15. Mysterious Woman - by some guy at Lipscomb
My cousin Adam had this album from a Writer's Night at David Lipscomb. It was something you typically laughed at, because a lot of the artists weren't all that great, and I mocked people who shared their emotions. There was one guy who had something he called Acappella Rock, which was as terrible as you can imagine. But then this song came up and it was a revelation. I can't link it to YouTube, because I don't know who wrote it, and I doubt very seriously it was made into a video. But it's a good song.

16. Lover You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley
Simply one of the best songs. Ever.

17. Hawkmoon 269 - U2
An "I love you" mix CD bookended by U2 songs. Kami can't say she didn't know what she was getting into.

All in all, I stand by the mix. It was bold, presumptuous, and something that I would have regretted if things didn't work out. But they did, so, thanks everyone, for writing these songs.

Well now. Things are getting real.

I mean, they've been getting Real for quite some time now. One glance at Kami's nummy will tell you that. But when we got this today...

Well, things just got real Real. It took a while to figure it out - long enough that I wondered how good a dad I'd actually be since, you know, it took me a good 15 minutes to figure out how to put together a travel system that doesn't actually need tools. But not so long to make me want to cry. But it all fits. The hardest part was getting the back wheels on. But it came together quite nicely, and looks awesome. And now it's in her nursery-in-progress.

And I'm sure the queasy feeling I have has something to do with the Mexican food I ate...

Kami's Nummy

I did not misspell that. A few weeks ago Kami noticed that her tummy itched, but when she went to scratch it, she didn't feel anything. A small part of her tummy had gone numb.

It spread. Now the nummy is about the size of a dinner plate. When she went to see the Good Doctor, she asked about it and was told, "Oh yeah, that's normal." Apparently, with Emmy growing and growing, she's compressing nerve endings, making it to where parts of her tummy are going numb. "When will it come back?" we asked, as you never think about how the outside of your tummy feels until you can't feel it anymore. "Six months? Maybe a year?" they said, answering our question with what certainly seemed like a question.

So, instead of a tummy, Kami has a nummy.

Yesterday morning was not fun

Well well. Things are starting to move along quite quickly towards B-Day, and they really ramp up today when Jared officially moves back to Texas. We've got some closet organizing ahead of us, and a nursery to put together. The biggest closet in the apartment is in the 2nd bedroom, so with that back, things will start to get uncluttered here in a hurry (and Kami hates Clutter slightly less than she hates Sin). That said, we also have a closet off our balcony. There had been some boxes that I had always meant to take to recycling, but that I never remembered to do when I was in a position to do it. I only thought about it at work, in terms of "Hm. I really should have taken care of that." So, yesterday I decided to actually take care of it, so we could get into that outside closet.

I moved two of the boxes and knew something was wrong, but it was so quick and unexpected that it took me a precious few seconds to realize just what exactly it was. 50-100 yellowjackets (thanks to my knowledge of collegiate athletics and logos, I knew they looked like Georgia Tech's logo) swarmed in a collective, "Oh, no you didn't." I didn't even swear. I yelled out a guttural "AAARRRR," and ran back inside - leaving one crucial flip-flop under one of the boxes. And upon returning inside, I noticed my arm and ankle throbbing. Three bites within about a four inch radius of the outside of my ankle, three bites on my forearm within about three inches of each other, and two more bites further up my leg. Kami was freaking out as she is allergic, Gunther was running around in circles, and Angus - the Wise One - had run under the bed. It was a visual representation of insanity.

But still, there was work to be done, so I left with Jared. About 45 minutes later, I get a phone call from Kami where she's sobbing and says - through sobs - "Come home!" The last time she was pregnant and said something along those lines, it ended in an overnight hospital stay, so I immediately went into Panic Mode, and asked (screeched) what was wrong. The other 92 yellowjackets were coming through a gap in the bottom of the door, and she was trying to kill all of them. So we came right home and I duct-taped the door. The yellowjackets regrouped on my flip-flop and looked at me, plotting. I rapped my knuckles on the glass and screamed.

I took some Benadryl. Which means that I was not conscious when the movers came to get Jared's stuff. And even though I was vaguely aware that there were three guys in the living room moving boxes five to ten feet away from me, I could not physically open my eyes to do anything about it. When I did wake up, the world was turned at a 30-degree angle. It was weird. Amazingly, Kami did not get stung. Gunther and Angus did not get stung. Just me - which is probably how I'd prefer it.

Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all you ladies out there. It hasn't been a great weekend - Kami has a stomach bug, which messed up the Birthing Classes we had scheduled at the hospital this weekend. Friday night, she got about an hour's worth of sleep, and I was up with her from 2am until about 3:45pm. I called the OB Triage nurse Saturday morning and asked yelled about what I should do. As long as Emmy's still kicking, everything's fine, it's just something Kami's going to have to go through. So she's been on a steady diet of Pedialyte, Sierra Mist, oatmeal, and Baked Lays. I've eaten about 3/4 of the bag of Baked Lays. And I'm a jerk for getting a Big Mac last night when Kami could barely keep crackers down.

This has traditionally been a tough day for Kami, for previously mentioned reasons, but today is quite different. Kami said this morning that Mother's Day took on a whole new meaning when Emsley woke her up kicking.

We typically have avoided church services on Mother's Day, because it's always about the mothers (which is totally fair). There's not a whole lot of acknowledgement given to the mothers, and fathers, who find Mother's Day to be extremely difficult. It broke - and still breaks - my heart to think about Kami say she did not feel like a woman because she seemingly could not have a baby. Today we didn't go to church, but mainly because an ill-timed sneeze could have resulted in a trip to the dry cleaners.

So today Kami and I celebrate because, this time next year, we'll have a 10-month old. Her name will be Emsley, meaning "Gift from God," which is exactly what she is, exactly as Kami is to me.

(We also celebrate because Manchester United did not win the English Premier League today. Manchester City scored on a couple of late, crazy goals, and I scared Emmy with my shouting. I also hurt my knee with my celebrating. The next time there's a Premier League game on, Emmy will be about a month old. That's...)

Kami's zombie pregnancy brain

There's not really much else of an explanation. Kami has Pregnancy Brain. Containers that are not sealed shut have a strong to quite strong chance of being tumped over. Eggs get dropped. Salt gets knocked over. This is normal. These things happen. No use getting upset about it.

Also, on Sunday afternoon, I wasn't feeling so hot. I had some iffy plumbing (if you catch my drift), and there were severe storms marching down Interstate 24, and turning south on Interstate 75, to where I was in Atlanta. So, faced with the possibility of driving the four hours on a RumbleTummy, through storms, I decided just to stay in Atlanta an extra night.

This meant that I would wake up at 4:15am Eastern, take a shower, and drive back to Nashville. Of course, now apparently I get panic attacks. So with worrying about oversleeping, getting in a wreck, or something happening to Kami, who was flying back to Nashville yesterday morning. The last time I looked at my phone, it was 12:40am.

Regardless, with the time change, I should have arrived about 7:15-7:30 - plenty of time to iron a shirt and get ready for work. But people in Nashville simply cannot drive effectively. With a school group due to arrive about 8:15, I pulled into work at 8:12 in a t-shirt and windpants ("The Coach," as I call it). I threw on the button-down shirt I had, put on some nicer pants, and threw on a sweater I keep in my desk drawer because my shirt was too wrinkled, and I didn't have time to iron it. (Yes, I keep a full extra outfit in my office. Just in case the Poops come, or I fall into a vat of honey, or PETA comes - for whatever reason - and pops me with fake blood). It was also almost 90 degrees, and I was walking around in a long-sleeve shirt and sweater.

I worked all day, and forced myself not to fall asleep at 6pm. I managed to make it until 9pm, and we went to bed (Kami hasn't slept well in about five months). Waking up groggy at 5:30, I got about eight hours of sleep - something that has not happened since I was approximately 13 years old.

We have a system at work. I was going to Starbucks in the afternoon and spending $2-3 on a cup of coffee. So we got a coffeemaker at work to fight this needless expense. As it was my turn to buy coffee, and I needed to be at work early, I stopped at Kroger. There should seriously be an alarm on bags of Decaf Coffee, a motion sensor that sets off a Rammstein song on auto-tune, and a demonic voice that yells, "ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO BUY DECAF, FOOOOOL?" But there isn't. Also, Gevalia should do better than a little green box in 3-point font that says "Decaf" on the bag. I bought decaf.

And then I couldn't find my phone. I called it from work. I borrowed a co-worker's phone and called my phone from the car. I knew I used it at Kroger, so I called Kroger's customer service and asked if anyone turned in a cell phone. Nobody had. I sort of accused someone at Kroger - no one specific, just someone - of taking it and using it.

I did some looking online, after two and a half hours, mind you, and found Plan B. It's an app that you can remotely install to your phone, and it emails you with the location. The location, after ten minutes, was "narrowed down" to within two kilometers of The Hermitage. I paced the grounds, looking down. I looked under my desk. I checked my pockets 43 times. I looked in the bag of ridiculous decaf coffee. I looked in the refrigerator. And whaddayaknow? My phone was right there, on top of my leftover pasta, chilling at 38 degrees.

Clearly, Kami's pregancy brain has gone Zombie, and has consumed my braaaaaiiinnnn and caused all of this. Or it could be all the sleep.

Such sweet sorrow

So Kami is off for the weekend, flying to Texas to hang out with her parents (best in-laws ever). And I'm sad. Seriously, almost started crying before I left for work. And now I'm officially bacheloring it for three days. Except it's the kind of bachelor that has to work all day, and then comes home and plays with his dogs before falling asleep at 8:30. So I'm like a 90-year old bachelor.

Whilst she traverses Texas, I'm working all day today, and going to Atlanta after work tomorrow to hang out with my cousin and watch his son play Little League baseball. I'm wicked psyched. Because, once Kami gets back on Monday, we're tethered to within an hour of Baptist Hospital in Nashville for the next nine weeks. And you know what happens in nine weeks? The All-Star Game Baby Time!

Is it bad that I check our registries on Target and Babies R Us just about every day to see if anybody has purchased thing (even though the notices of the baby shower haven't gone out yet)? I guess I don't need to panic. Because every time I look on there and see "No Items Selected" I immediately internally scream "OHNOWE'REGOINGTOHAVETOBUYEVERYTHING!!" I have to stop this.

Also, Angus - the Scottie - hurt his leg on Monday. I spent the following 24 hours fretting and watching his leg. He's better now, and I'm chalking it up to my Healing Gaze. I have some emotional work to do before Emsley Bryn comes along.