Introducing...

Piper Austin J.

May 17, 2008 @ 10:43 am

5 lbs. 14 oz.

19-1/4 inches long

Many thanks to everyone for your wonderful comments and your patience! Sheesh. It took us long enough to post the details.

Because of her preemie status, Miss PJ stayed in the hospital an extra day under the tanning bed lights trying to rid herself of jaundice. We came home for a day-and-a-half but then ended up in the pediatric unit for another spate of tanning.

We are now home and on a strict every 2 hours breastfeeding schedule, which is working wonders on the jaundice (and her weight) so far.

Labor came fast and hard. I will post the birth story soon. Cowboy rose to the occasion and in true Cowboy fashion had tears in his eyes when she let out her first wail.

She's a very mellow baby (part of this is preemie-induced mellowness). We have to wake her to feed her and she mews like a little kitten. She has her dad's eyes. Brown hair with blond highlights. Her mom's petite frame with the beginnings of some serious yoga shoulders.

I am beyond smitten.

It goes without saying, but she is well worth every single heartbreak, pee-stick throwing, prometrium-induced headache and tear shed in frustration.

The Best Intentions

I had planned on posting this past Sunday, when I would have hit 36 weeks (9 months) that I had had my first - ahem - internal exam heading into the home stretch.


"You might want to get the car seat in the car over the weekend," my OB had suggested. I was 75% effaced and 2 cm dilated.


I had planned on driving out to a spot on the Columbia River on Saturday so I could snap a picture of a very snow-covered Mt. St. Helen's for Miss JJ's birthday on Sunday, May 18. Happy belated birthday, JJ!


I had planned on attending a second baby shower in my honor on that same Sunday. Mrs. Super Planner had flown up from Texas to attend as well.


That was the plan...


Instead, I spent the weekend giving birth to a gorgeous, healthy little girl.


Proving - once again - that nothing, I mean, nothing ever goes according to plan. But somehow life always turns out beautifully in the long run.


Pictures, name, birth story, etc., all coming soon.




And she already has Cowboy wrapped around her tiny little finger.

Score one for Cowboy

Cowboy got the job! The dream-with-a-capital-D job.

I am so happy for him. I remember us taking Gus for a walk one February night in the college town where we lived for grad school. We had just started dating and he was discussing the three job offers he had received.

"But what do you really want to do?" I asked.

"I want to be a CFO someday," was his reply.

"Well then choose the job that is going to put you in the best position for that future," (oh, I thought I was such a smarty pants first-year back then.)

For the first 7 years of our relationship, I can definitely say that my job came first. We chose the town we live in based upon my job offer. He transferred his job with the bank so we could be in the same city. I traveled extensively. Usually over weekends. For long periods of time. Always surrounded by a cadre of guys. He had the local job. At the bank with its regular hours. And took care of the house, the bills, the dog, etc., while I galloped around mountain towns. He never gave me shit or grief for any of it.

Um, honey, I know we just bought our first house but I need to go live in Park City for 6 weeks during the Olympics. Where will I live? Oh in a townhouse with the rest of the marketing department. I guess that’s right. They are all guys. Hmm. That will be strange. As an aside, that townhouse became affectionately known as The Delta House. I coined the name the night I slept on the couch because some unplanned visiting big wig was staying in my room. I had counted well over 2 cases of empty beer bottles on the coffee table and thought, "I am so too old for this shit."

Heck, we almost moved to a freakin’ backwater Mo’ town in Utah for my job. (Not PC. We so would’ve moved to PC.)

Now it is his turn to have his job put first.

First because the commute is a wee bit longer. And the job is his first in the executive-level ranks = long hours. Long days. Stretches of days where – once she gets on a schedule – he will likely not see Missy awake. Please Lord, let her be one of those babies that sleep through the night sooner rather than later.

Did I mention that they want him to start before June 16. And we have that pesky little thing in June called a DUE DATE, which, falls on June 15.

Which is code for "Of course you can have some time off when the baby arrives. Will three days be okay?"

New baby. New job. Now we just need to buy a new house to completely stress us out. Actually, the new house will probably come next year when he gets sick of the commute and wants to move closer to his new gig.

We looked at each other this morning and nodded, "Yep, we'll both be in boot camp for a solid year."

And, we decided, all of this puts me in a new job, too: stay-at-home mom.

Wow.

Part of me is secretly pleased with this new job – I already bought a book on making homemade baby food. Title of mom is one of my dream jobs. I just never thought "stay-at-home" would come in front of it. That I would be on this side of the Mommy War.

But the reality of it is that any new job I get will require those long, pay-your-dues hours, too. And it is just not fair to us, to the new baby and to our employers. Everyone will lose under that scenario. Something had to give.

I don’t want this to come off as whining. Please. Dearly wanted baby scheduled to arrive in a month. Husband with his dream job. We are beyond lucky. And I am beyond grateful.

I’m just a little freaked out about this radical change in my career path. I have to have faith that I will figure something out so I can build a bridge between two sides of the divide.

That and trying to manage the web of changing health insurance coverage so close to the end of the pregnancy.

Thoughts on yesterday

Hope abides; therefore I abide.
Countless frustrations have not cowed me
I am still alive, vibrant with life.
The black cloud will disappear.
The morning sun will appear once again
All in its supernatural glory.

- Sri Chinmoy

# # #

I copied down this poem off the blog of another (who no longer blogs and has removed her site so I can't even point you in her direction). I've never had the urge to get a tattoo, however, if I were to get one, it would be this poem. But maybe in Sanskrit or in some other beautiful-fonted language.

I think this poem is so appropriate for the ambivalent feelings many might have towards Mother's Day. For whatever our reasons.

Maybe it reminds us of what we are going through now.

Maybe it reminds us of struggles we've conquered. Or are in the process of conquering.

Maybe it reminds us of someone who is no longer there and the sadness that enveloped us after their departure.

I thought this poem should live on in this circle.

I look at my hand-scribbled version on the back of my notebook everyday.

95% there

...With the room.

I hemmed and hawed over bookcases and then found this antique pine armoire, which was marked down for a song. I have a thing for old pine armoires. This is the 4th one in our house. It holds toys, books and a pile of clothes that have yet to be washed and hung. Next weekend.

Here is the vintage secretary's desk I painted. The attached changing pad can come off when Missy is out of diapers and then we'll use it as her desk. We still need to hang the Shaker rack over the changing table.

Those effing curtains - lined and all - are 9 freaking feet long. Each.

Sorry I haven't been posting or commenting. As you can see, I've been on a mission this week.

Coming Soon: The Room

May 1. In most Western cities, May Day is reserved for workers' rights protests, strikes, parades, etc.

In our house, this May Day really means, "May Day!" As in...oh-my-god-I-have-less-than-six-weeks-until-this-kid-comes-and-I-am-so-not-ready.

Like most who have gone through pregnancy loss, I didn't even accept that I might actually have a baby until about halfway through the pregnancy. As such, no planning happened until 5 months in.

Then - I confess - I made a spreadsheet. (Hangs head).

It was the only way my linear mind could grapple with all the stuff we needed to source, buy, research, do. Most people think of spreadsheets for finance, but when Micr0soft launched its Excel program, it used famed mountaineer Ed Viesturs' need to manage supply logistics for an upcoming expedition to Mt. Everest as a marketing story in how to use Excel for planning purposes. If it worked for Ed and Everest, I figured it was good enough for me.

Only back at 5 months when I developed our baby logistics plan, I had all sorts of 2nd trimester energy and failed to incorporate the 3rd trimester brain drain into the plan.

As such, I am behind on the nursery. The ROOM. The room that has so much significance in our journey. The room that I visualized decorating. For years.

The room that has been alternately cleaned out then had the door shut on it with each pregnancy and subsequent loss.

The room that caused a huge fight between us when I refused to move my new work office into it because just in case we might get pregnant. (Ironic but we ended up finding out about Missy a few weeks after that fight).

The room that has sat empty and undecorated since we bought our house in 2001. I referred to it as the "mayonaise room" due to its off-white walls, off-white wooden blinds and off-white berber carpet.

Here, take a look.

I can't believe I'm behind on it after I have pined to decorate it for years. I mostly need to sew and hang the curtains. And sew the crib skirt. And a duvet for the down quilt (even though I know you aren't supposed to use such things until Missy is much older).

The fabric has been sitting in the room for ages. Again, damn that 2nd trimester energy kick making me think I could put this off until now. I need someone to seriously kick me in the ass and get my sewing machine cranking.

You'd think the six-weeks-to-go countdown would be motivation enough. Or just the sheer satisfaction that - finally - THAT room would be done.

Now, I'm locking myself into the house this weekend until all that sewing is accomplished. I don't care if it is sunny outside. My loss for procrastinating.

And because pictures of a boring-ass-white-room are so what no one wants to see on a blog, here is a fun picture from Missy's first shower.

I ate 3 of these.