"Hey! Watch out for those milestones!"

Sometimes I look at my giant, cooing baby and think, "How on earth did this happen?"  He's amazing.  Beyond his sheer size (weighing in at over one stone, for you measurement fans out there) Walter has gained so much these 2 months.  He's more adept with his hands and more coherently communicative every day.  The milestones are whizzing by and we barely have a chance to note them before we're on to the next big "first."

Holy roller!

This week we had a big one. On Tuesday morning I put Walter down on his activity mat for some tummy time and he immediately rolled over onto his back.  We blinked at each other for a few seconds, shocked. "That had to have been a fluke," I thought. "I must have given him a little push."  I picked him up and put him on his tummy again, grabbing a nearby camera to catch some of his impressive head-lifting.  And then he rolled over again!  This time there was no mistaking it: he'd gone from flat on his belly, to lifted up on his arms, to lifted up on one arm, a little push from that arm and ta daaaaa ... on his back.  Neither of us could believe it.  I gushed effusive congratulations; Walter smiled a bit, puckered his lips and said "Oh!"

I knew exactly what he meant. "OK!  Time to eat!" And it was.   Very effectively communicative, this boy.

Walter holding his own burp rag. Helpful!

On Wednesday morning I gazed at him expectantly, waiting for the next milestone to drop. "Mama?" I whispered hopefully. No doing. He wouldn't roll over again, either, preferring to crumple into a heap and wail every time he was put on his belly.  "Too much pressure!" he cried.  Very communicative, like I said. I put him down on his back in his play yard for a moment, hoping he'd doze off for a bit.  I put a burp rag down next to him, at the ready for pre-nap spitting.  Then I watched as he very deliberately grabbed the rag, brought it to his mouth, and spit up onto it.  "What a smart baby!" I said, very pleased.  Then he put the wet part of the rag into his mouth and started to suck on it. "What a ... good baby," I said, grossed out. "It must be time to eat!" And it was.  That's how all my stories end, I'm noticing.  You don't get to weigh one stone by sleeping through meals!

Oh, sleeping.  Speaking of milestones, Walter started sleeping 5-7 hours a night very early on, with a few bad nights here and there of constant waking and eating.  Now the bad nights have become the norm, maybe from not being swaddled anymore, or that cold he's still getting over, or maybe another growth spurt, or all of the above, or something else entirely.  He hasn't told us what's going on. All I know is that I'm glad today is my day off from work and I'm wondering how Sean is going to function at all at work today (my guess: sleepily.)

Tomorrow is Sean's last day at work before 6 weeks of paternity leave.  He'll be getting Walt's room ready (where Walt will sleep independently through the night very soon.  Yes, he will!) and gradually introducing the little guy to daycare.  That means more hours at the office for me.  I'm glad and looking forward to it--being a pastor is has become a big part of my identity, a part I missed dearly during maternity leave.  Our pediatrician is a fan of daycare, too: good for socialization, development, immunity, etc. In some ways, it's hard to think about having so few waking hours with Walt each day, and to know that Sean and I will miss many of his next "firsts."  But, just as I'm sure he will roll over again (or, you know, skip right to walking) I'm sure we'll make good and loving use of the time we have together, continuing to be amazed by our Scooter.

Pictures (lots of them, great ones) from Christmas are posted here. And now I'm off to put the baby on his tummy again!

Merry Christmas, Walter!

Walt's first picture with Santa ... at church. =)

Dear Walter,

Today is your first Christmas. You are taking a snooze in your swing right now, holding onto one of your monkeys ("Minky") which is a new skill and helping you stay calm and cozy when you sleep.  This has been a wonderful day!

You didn't sleep very well last night ... your pediatrician says we can't swaddle you anymore because you're too strong and escape from your swaddler.  You have an excellent startle reflex that wakes you up, but holding onto a monkey (in this case, "Rumple") seems to help.  You're also getting over your first cold, which makes it hard for you to breathe sometimes.  Even though you've been sick this week you've been so good--giving us big smiles and singing Christmas songs with us (You do the backup singer "oooh" and "ahhh" parts.)

Walter and Minky

So, it was a busy night but not a bad night.  You ate every two hours but didn't do much fussing.  I think you were too excited to sleep for long, knowing that Christmas was coming.  I was too excited to sleep too--very energized by our Christmas Eve services at church.  You went to the 4:30 pm service with Daddy and Grandma Sue.  Grandma got to hold you and give you a bottle while we sang "Silent Night," which was a very special bonding moment for you and her.

Christmas morning started at 6 am with some momma milk and breakfast for the grownups (cereal and the leftover cinnamon buns from your 2 month birthday celebration.  Daddy revived the stale buns by frying them up with some butter.  Daddy knows how to do Christmas right!)

You were in a great mood all morning.  You slept on the way to church, woke up and got a bottle before the service started.  You seemed to really love the sound of the cello playing Christmas hymns. Your grandpa held you and you smiled at me during the service, which gave me the courage to give my first notes-free sermon (I dressed up as Mary and talked about the Christmas story from her point of view.  It was pretty fun and I felt like I could speak about birth with some more authority this year.)

When we got home you had a nice meal and fell asleep. The grownups ate a delicious lunch of creamed shrimp over pancakes (Daddy had his pancakes with butter and syrup instead.)  After a little nap for you and me it was time to open presents.  After a little snack you woke up bright eyed, alert, happy and very interested in everything going on. We got some great pictures, including pictures of us with pictures and looking at other pictures. You are already a very well-documented baby!

For Christmas this year you got two beautiful hats (big enough for your 90th percentile giant noggin!), books from Grandma and Grandpa Edison-Swift, new outfits (at two months old you are wearing 6 month old clothes!), some great furniture for your room from the Albrights, and toys for bath time and tummy time. You are very, very good at tummy time, lifting your head up high and rocking back and forth, trying to roll over.  You're also getting very good at grabbing things and putting them in your mouth.

2 month birthday (a sweet tradition!)

After some spittin' and fussin' (not too much of either, thankfully) you are taking a lovely Christmas snooze (let's make that an annual tradition!)  What a day!  What a week!  You celebrated your 2 month birthday on Thursday and got your first vaccines on Friday.  You were very brave for your shots and stopped crying as soon as Daddy picked you up and I nursed you. Your Grandpa Paul has been with us most of the week, helping us take care of you through your cold.  You love to put your head down on Grandpa's chest, listening to his voice and his heartbeat until you fall asleep.

We are very proud of you, Scooter.  We love watching you grow and change and take more and more delight and interest in the world around you.  Here are some of the things you love to do these days:
**Smile real smiles, absolutely beaming when you're happy
**Grabbing, especially with your right hand
**Spitting up your milk (ick! But it does make you smile. You smile very big when we clean your face with a soft burp rag.)
**Lifting your legs to help us on the changing table (very helpful!)
**Lifting your arms to be burped after meals
**Intentional snuggling, not just passing out after meals.  You get all cozy with us, especially with Grandpa Paul.

Merry Christmas, Walter Paul!

How many bodily functions can I mention in one blog post

As an early effort in my never-ending quest to embarrass my son, I give you this story:

I'm back at work in the afternoons, which is wonderful but means I have to wear clothes again and shower occasionally.  This morning I found myself alone with Walter and in need of a shower ... it was new and uncharted territory, but I decided I'd look for an opportunity and give it a try.

Walter fell asleep after eating, but I wasn't sure I should move/wake him, so we snuggled in the chair for an hour or so.  I'm pretty reluctant to wake him when he's sleeping.  Finally my need to use the restroom and his early signs of wakefulness convinced me: it was time to move him to the bassinet so Mom could have a bathroom break.  I was sure his eyes would fly open, and for a moment, they did ... and then he looked around, yawned, and went back to sleep.  I stared at him in disbelief, wasting precious bathroom break moments. I went to the bathroom, came back to the bassinet, and stared at him some more.  Still sleeping!  This was my opportunity: shower time was a go.

The downstairs bathroom is on the same floor as the bassinet but not within sight distance ... and yet I found myself keeping the lights off so I wouldn't wake the baby.  I also kept the door open so I could hear him, which would have required extra strong baby lungs indeed.  I showered faster than I've ever showered in my life, including the cold-bucket-of-rainwater shower I took in El Salvador.  Very speedy.  I threw on some undies, a clean bra and robe and ran (quietly) to the bassinet.

There was Walter, eyes open, staring happily at his mobile.  "Oh what a good baby!" I said. He gave me a big smile and said "Ooooh!" (Walter has a very advanced vocabulary of noises.  "Ooooh" is generally a content, chatty noise.  A British sounding "Ow" indicates desire (to play, to eat, etc.) "Eeeeeee" is either the sound of our teakettle boiling or Walter working his way into some serious anger.  "Ah" (as in apple) is indignant, "Eh" is frustrated, "Oh" is disappointment. Etc.)

We smiled at each other for moment before I scooped him up.  And at that moment, a fountain of spit up emerged from Walter's mouth while he simultaneously pooped with such force and volume that it exploded out of his diaper and up his back.  "Ohhhh," I said.  "Good baby."

We cheerfully made our way to the changing table.  I took off his diaper, which was Walt's cue to tinkle.  And then poop.  And then poop some more.  And then some more.  Seriously.  This went on for a long time.  At the end of it, Walter looked up at me with some concern.  I could tell he was looking for a reaction.  I smiled big: "What a good, good baby! Good job Walter!"  He smiled right back at me.  I glanced down at my bra.  Oh boy.  "And guess what time it is?  Lunch time!" Walter smiled.  "Ooooh!" he said.

What's the fuss?

It's funny the things babies are born knowing and what they have to learn. It's not what you'd expect. Number one and two on the list are, conveniently, #1 and #2 -- peeing and pooping. (Some of them even get a head start on these.) The ultrasound showed that Walt had a head start on sucking his thumb, although he's had some trouble adapting his technique ex utero.

There are the things that seem obvious: Nursing. Well, really, sucking & swallowing; nursing is a bit of a refinement of those concepts that can take some time and practice, as Annie and Walt will attest. Breathing and crying -- even these seemed to need a jump start in the delivery room. Walt has since taken to them like a fish to his/her bicycle.

Then, the surprises. Walt's precocious neck control. Delightful, unabashed smiles. A magician's understanding of misdirection.

You see, when Walt starts fussing, my go-to response (after the lullabye) is a diaper check. Invariably wet. Inevitably frustrated by his time on the changing table. So, we continue down the list... singing gives way to rocking, rocking gives way to walking, walking to bouncing, bouncing to swaddling, and just when I think I've exhausted my repertoire, I think, "Couldn't be the diaper, right?" But I check anyway... e voilà! Delightful smile, enthusiastic applause.

As for swaddling, early on we had some real success with Happiest Baby on the Block, particularly that sort of cantilevered, wiggling side-hold. We'd swaddle Walt up, cradle his head, give a long shush and a gentle wiggle, and he'd be a zen master. But the change in his demeanor was spookily abrupt -- stop shushing to catch your breath and he'd pick right back up yowling where he left off. I often wondered if the "calming reflex" was only physical; if somewhere, locked into that little swaddled body, the real Walt was still silently raging against the 1%. At any rate, he seems to have outgrown the position, but we still swaddle to counteract his startle reflex, and he likes a modified side/colic-hold before bed to settle his stomach, so I feel like it's served all of us well.

By any other name

Our baby started out with one nickname: Scooter.  He got that nickname very early on, in the very early morning when I woke up, compulsively took yet another home pregnancy test, got a positive result, and crept back into bed with Sean saying: "We're going to have a little Scooter!"  It's a good nickname indeed.  

Now that the Scooter has arrived, however, the nicknames are proliferating. We pretty much call him anything that comes into our heads in the moment. Here's a short list of the current favorites (feel free to add "little" before all of these for maximum cuteness):

Check out that monkey butt!

Pumpkin

Babydoll

Monkey Butt

Pooper

Bean

Snookie (Don't judge me.  It just comes out. I won't let reality TV ruin a perfectly good nickname!)

Sweetheart

Squeaker

Some of these are rather specific to infant Walter and I imagine will not continue to be used beyond a certain age.  We got a hearty chuckle, though, out of imagining Grandma Sue meeting Walt's prom date at the door saying, "Oh! Are you here for Monkey Butt?"

Another example of pre and post birth differences in our lives: you may recall that I wrote a beautiful lullaby for Walter.  This lullaby turns out to be completely useless, because I can't sing it without crying. Like, can't get through the first two words.  It sums up all my love for this little guy so perfectly and that's a little too much for me at 2 am.  So, what do we sing while rocking Walt to sleep? Lots of things. We tend to prefer bluegrass, although Walt really seems to dig the "Ta oomba oomba oomba whoa-oh-oh" part of Paul Simon's song "African Skies" (oh the Graceland album!  Baby likes good music!) The best, though, is a cowboy ballad Sean composed for Walt one of his first nights home from the hospital.  It goes like this:

Hey little Walter

Hey little Walter

Why do you fuss do you fuss up a storm?

Hey little Walter

Hey little Walter

You've fussed and you've fussed since the day you was born.

You fuss and you fight and you fight and you fuss

If you could speak well I think you would cuss

You fight and you fuss and you fuss and you fight

If you had teeth well I think you would bite

(Repeat chorus)

This lullaby is much more fun and appropriate for late night singing.  Speaking of sleeping Walter ... he's sleeping again!  The boy took my challenge to make me a liar and ran with it (well ... snoozed with it.)  He had a great nap yesterday afternoon and did pretty well last night, too.  Now he and Grandpa are asleep in the guest room and both snoring quite contentedly.  

A good day. =)

One month later

"He's still a precious little pumpkin, you know," said Grandpa Paul, getting teary.  

I know exactly what he means, and I'm quite familiar with that persistent wet feeling on my face.  There's been a lot of crying this first month of Walter Paul's life--happy crying, overwhelmed crying, crying at any love song with the word "baby" in it.  The adults in Walt's life are kind of a weepy bunch.  We're a little tired, you know.  And we are in love.

The rarely-seen napping Walter, age 1 month

Crying is also something Walt himself has been doing a lot of ... and by crying I mean screaming ... and by screaming I mean SCREAMING.  I hate to say it but it must be said: colic.  Like mother, like son.  Although, from my mom's stories, I think Walter is managing to be more charming than I was during my colicky times.  As Grandpa noted, he's still a pretty precious little pumpkin.  He's just also an angry little pumpkin who doesn't want to sleep.  (To make me a liar, Walter seems to be sleeping in his bed like a sweet baby right at this very moment.  Make me a liar, Walt.  Go for it!)

Even with the colic to consider, chief among the family criers is me, the Mommy. I'm a little frustrated with my body and it's issues.  Namely, blood that's not supposed to be there in that color and amount and yet is there, and keeps being there day after day.  Doctor M's orders: push fluids, get lots of rest, feet up, no lifting anything.  These orders are familiar from my bedrest during the pregnancy, but now they're a little more difficult to follow.  Not because I can't follow them ... once again, my family has come through and I don't have to lift a thing this week.  It's difficult because I desperately want to lift that baby.  I want to comfort him when he's screaming, I want to be able to offer him love and attention beyond feeding him, which is all I'm really good for right now.  But I'm very grateful that I can feed him, and I'm grateful for my mom and dad and Sean, with their sore arms and their stiff backs and their seemingly endless love and patience for both me and Walt. 

I wish this was a more upbeat update--if it had been written last week, it surely would have been a different story.  But that seems to be how it goes ... good days and bad days.  If we waited for it to be only good days, for that neat ending where we have it all figured out, we'd never write again.  And I do want to keep writing and recording the good, the bad, and the weepy.  

Some of my favorite things about Walt these days: 

**The way he looks after he's been nursing.  He makes funny little old man faces and does big stretches with his arms.  I put him up on my shoulder to burp him and he holds on like he's giving me a hug. 

**Awake and alert times when he's just happy to look around at the world, giving big charming smiles to me or whoever is with him, or even more often to the ceiling, which is fascinating.

**How persistent he is at trying to do things beyond what his body is really supposed to be able to do at this point ... lift his head, move around independently, use his hands.  Walter is strong and wants to move and groove with the rest of us.

**The way he smiles and sometimes even laughs in his sleep.

**The impact he has on the people who love him ... the way he's made me a mommy, and Sean a daddy, and grandparents of my parents, and a tireless protector out of Hank the dog.  Oh, Hank.  The way he barks at everything that passes our door is maybe a little much, but the way he checks in on the baby and gives him kisses on his head and feet is pretty wonderful. 

This naptime of Walt's is really sticking, so I'd better go join him.  Sleep when the baby sleeps!

Happy one month birthday, Scooter.  We love you more than even our tears can tell. 

Overdue

More pics at flickr

We are overdue for an update, indeed!

Through facebook and email and carrier pigeon we sent out the word: Walt was born at 12:35 pm on October 22, 2011.  He weighed 9 lbs 14 oz and was 22 inches tall.  Sean's announcement--written in the days leading up to the birth, so we'd be ready to send it out quickly--included the standard birth announcement phrase, "Mom and baby are doing great."

In truth, Mom wasn't doing so great, but we weren't sure how to communicate that.  The story kept changing before we could tell it.  As my health improved we got more and more busy with the wonderful job of being parents.  At this moment, Walt is (somewhat tenuously) asleep, I am relatively well-rested, and it seems like a good moment to grab and catch up with our story-in-progress.

On Thursday, October 20 Sean took the morning off of work to take me for a non-stress test and an ultrasound.  The non-stress test looked great and revealed that I was having contractions.  This was quite a reveal, since I couldn't feel the contractions at all.  An impromptu cervical exam showed no progress on that end.  We'd been looking forward to the ultrasound--getting another little peek at his face--but no doing.  Baby was too smushed to get any kind of good picture, and a try with the 3D ultrasound wand showed some psychadelic patterns but no face ... not enough amniotic fluid for it to work.  We headed off to Erma Bombeck's for a delicious lunch (in lieu of pie, a pumpkin roll with cream cheese frosting. Seasonal and festive!)

We got me home and tucked into bed for an afternoon nap; Sean went to work.  Around 2:30 pm I got a call from Nurse B.: my amniotic fluid amount was too low (2.5 % vs. the preferred 5%).

Sean here now -- Annie's breastfeeding...
So, around 2:25 at work, I get a call from Nurse B., looking for Annie.  Her voice sounds a bit strained, "Sean... I'm trying to... get ahold of Annie... I just called her cell, and didn't get an answer.  Is she... with... you?  No?  Can... you... have her get in touch with me... right away.  I'll give you my DIRECT LINE."  Two distinct impressions were conveyed:  1.  She was in the middle of a HIPAA compliance audit.  2.  Something was wrong.

My smartphone has too many ways to send a message to keep straight exactly how I've been communicating with someone recently.  Chat, text message, google voice text message, skype chat, email -- not to mention actual phone calls.  When I couldn't get her on the phone, all of them were employed in conveying that number to Annie.  Then I set a mental timer for 5 minutes, at which point I would get in my car and speed home.  At 4 minutes, 37 seconds, Annie called me, crying.  "We have to go back to the hospital."  I got in my car and sped home.

(Annie here, again.  Sean is heating up spag pie for lunch.  Walt is chillin' in his rainforest bouncer. My folks just headed home, and Hank is saying "It's not too late!  They're still in the driveway! Stop them!" My dad stayed with us and did the majority of the Walt care our first week home from the hospital.  Can't imagine we would have made it without Magic Grandpa!)

As instructed, we went straight to the Family Birth Center to start the induction. Even though Walt was almost a week late, we'd been hoping to avoid induced labor.  It tends to cause much harder, more painful contractions. My first doctor estimated my chance of needing a c-section as "greater than 50%"  We'd been hoping to avoid that, too, since 2 major abdominal surgeries is already plenty.  I thought to myself, "If I'm certain to have a c-section, why go through labor?" But I didn't say it out loud until later.

When I say "my first doctor" I mean the first of 4 on-call docs I saw during my stay.  Dr. M was on vacation. The docs I saw were not exactly on the same page.  One thought Walt was doing great--no need to rush, I was progressing slowly but I was progressing.  Another thought Walt's numbers were lousy and that I never had any chance of progressing enough for vaginal delivery.

But Thursday night we were feeling hopeful and excited.  My parents drove right up and brought a pumpkin bag full of Halloween candy, which was a hit with the staff.

(All this talk of candy has piqued Walt's appetite -- Sean again.)
Not knowing the exact course things would take, we held off sending out a general announcement, and just filled in our folks.  Anyway, Thursday night, we started in with the gentle approach to induction, with some medicine (Cervidil) to help get the cervix onboard with the idea that Walt's birthday was imminent.  Honestly, Thursday night was a lot of hope and not a lot of action.  We got settled into Annie's room -- a huge suite  compared to most hospital rooms, well appointed, little fold-down couch for me -- ordered Annie some room service from the cafeteria, and enjoyed the anticipation and jello, although Annie's heartburn was still acting up then (add that to one of the immediate blessings of Walter's birth -- heartburn relief, for both of us!)

So listen, we could give you a blow by blow of each of the 42 hours of Annie's labor, followed by her c-section and complications (and the twenty-seven eight-by-ten color glossy pictures with the circles and the arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was) and it might convey the experience.  But I suspect it would really just take something that was overwhelmingly emotional, that absolutely smashed us and built us back up as something new, and turn it into something really kind of tedious for you to read.  The brass tacks: Annie's labor progressed slowly, but steadily, with the help of cervidil, cytotec, and pitosin, but stalled out at 7cm.  C-section went smoothly, delivering our beautiful, healthy son, but Annie's blood pressure crashed immediately afterward.  They stabilized her quickly, and she was breastfeeding (sort of -- she and Walt had a lot to learn still) even as they were administering oxygen.  That same fortitude was tested by a variety of complications over the next several days -- decreased kidney function (particularly terrifying since she only has the one kidney), gi problems exacerbated by her lack of mobility, bladder infection.  But now we're home, resting, recovering, occasionally entertaining visitors, but mostly discovering this new permutation of the Edison-Albright family.

Annie here again, several days later, and grateful that Sean summed it all up ... this is not an easy story for us to tell, but we're figuring it out together (we're figuring A LOT out together!)

Some highlights of the Walt labor and delivery experience:
** Singing through my contractions with Sean, the best labor coach ever.
** Mom leading silent prayer with us before the surgery; feeling God's love flow so powerfully from her hand on my forehead ... knowing it would be OK.
** Seeing Walt for the first time ... so big! Unbelievable how real he is.
** The first time Walter latched really well while nursing.  I thought, "Yes! We can do this!"

I hear a little Walter squeak from the living room, where he's asleep on Sean's chest.  Going to go investigate. Any other highlights/thoughts, Sean?

Sean:
I know what Annie means about him being so real... he's nothing like I imagined, I could never have imagined the reality.

Grandma and Grandpa E-S' help these past few weeks has been absolutely essential.  As have some delicious casseroles from Redeemer friends.

Speaking of friends, we're not venturing out into the storm and snow all that much yet, but we'd love visitors or conversation, so just give us a call if you're interested.

Now let's put this baby to bed.  Metaphorically.  Walt's still eating second supper.