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Wednesday, November 05, 2003
ALEXANDER JULIAN ROCA, BORN SEPTEMBER 23, 2003, AT 9:07 A.M. 9 LBS 7 OZ., 23 INCHES.
Unforgiveably, the most important events of the year have come and gone without a word posted about them. But then that's the paradox. When you really have something to write about, there's no bloody time to do it!
The last time we checked in with our heroes was September 2nd. Baby imminent, right? WRONG. That baby had no intention of being imminent - not then, or apparently ever. He had decided that sitting tight inside Mama upside down was preferable to whatever else lay in store, and so dug in. He actually sat very tight, as he managed to keep growing during the ALMOST THREE WEEKS we waited for him after his official due date. I tried every single old wives remedy that was supposed to bring on labor. I inflicted on my family every single spicy food available in our neighborhood (a considerable selection!), I walked all around Central Park, played in the park with Galen rather more strenuously than I should (ever seen a 9.5 month prego go down a slide? Better to pray that you never do!), and basically tried everything that people say can jump-start labor. No deal. After 2.5 weeks of forbearance, my OB finally decided that enough was enough, and prescribed a pitocin drip, stat. That night, we found ourselves in a hospital room complete with wires, monitors, an IV drip and a large screen TV.
Our guardian angel, Mich, arrived a few minutes later, complete with a backgammon board and cozy socks, and Javier, Michelle and I settled in for the long haul. Mich has a way of making me laugh, regardless of whatever situation I find myself. Understandably, I suppose, the nurses were confused by the sounds of hilarity disturbing the normal screams they were accustomed to, and kept coming in to turn up the dosage of Pitocin I was receiving. A few hours of this, and my enthusiasm for backgammon had begun to wane considerably. Mich and Javi had scratched out space on the floor to try to nap, and I concentrated on the relaxation techniques I'd been practicing. It was amazing, actually, how quickly the time went by. Again, paradoxically, when things speed up, time slows down. At about 4 in the morning things rather suddenly got pretty hairy. My water broke, and in the space of about two minutes, the place was suddenly filled with medical personnel, large equipment, yelling people (mostly me), and very bright lights. I don't remember much more than this -- oh, except for the pain. You know how they ask you to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10 with 1 being no pain at all, and 10 being more than you could imagine? Labor is a definite 10, with all other pain I've ever experienced cascading down the scale. (If you've never had a baby, but plan to someday, please don't read the previous sentence. Or just assume that I'm kidding.)
Anyway, with all of that, and nine cm dilation on my own (no epidural until the bitter twilight hours of this whole thing, and too late to do any good) the baby was born by cesarian. I will now freely admit that, when they removed the baby, pronounced him fine, but then weighed him in at -- NINE POUNDS SEVEN OUNCES!! -- I was grateful for the method of delivery.
As previously mentioned, he did turn out fine, and with a thick carpet of the softest black hair that Galen told us felt just like a bunny.
The very next day, September 24th, is Galen's birthday, on which day he turned 4. Naturally, since I was in hospital, and we were exhausted, we had to postpone the birthday celebration. Galen, for his part, was an absolute hero about it. As he has been with the baby. His method of adaptation to having the new baby here has been effectively to adopt him. Alexander is Galen's baby -- I just get to feed, change and entertain him. The first thing Galen wants to do in themorning is to kiss the baby, and the last thing he wants to do at night is to have the baby brought to his bed so that he can "give him comfort" and sing Alexander a lullaby. So far I've been incredulously grateful for Galen's accepting attitude. We've seen a couple of bumps here and there, and I've found myself saying things like, "Galen PLEASE don't put your toes on the baby's head," and occasionally stopping Galen from "giving the baby comfort" in the bouncy seat by apparently trying to bounce him into orbit. Thank god for the seat belt...
The "little one" is now six weeks old, much better looking than the day of his birth (when we compared him to various 20th century dictators, the most prevalent probably being Leonid Brezhnev, with Mao a close second). Now he actually looks a bit like a baby Galen in a black wig, but mostly just like himself. Very cute to his parents, and like a new baby to everyone else, I imagine.
The only "bump" in the road was a couple of weeks after arriving home, I somehow developed a secondary infection at the cesarian site. I didn't think it was too serious, but it somehow landed me in the hospital again for two days and a night. They did not let the baby stay with me, so I spent the entire time pumping, while Javier attained the sudden and (at the time) highly unwelcome knowledge of the reality of caring for two children alone. Of course, Javier succeeded beyond anyone's wildest expectations (mostly his own) and he was an acomplished expert on infant care by the time I arrived home. I was so proud of him, and it was definitely a turning point for him, as he had developed a definite fear of "doing it all over again." He is quite smitten with the little guy now, although his adoration wanes considerably after 11PM.
Our big achievement in all this time (aside from all of the above) was actually pulling off Galen's postponed birthday party when the infant was about ten days old. It was at the great hill at Central Park and it seemed as though everything was going to go wrong that day, including rain. Somehow, even though we were 45 minutes late arriving at our own party, and there was a steady (if light) rain falling, it somehow all worked out. Thanks to all of our friends -- our social set is largely comprised of the parents of Galen's classmates, and they were all there and VERY helpful. But Javier is the real hero of all of this. He was absolutely amazing, taking care of all of us when I was unable to do much more than get out of bed and nurse the baby. AND he supports the family. And still still somehow finds a way to keep making watercolors. How did I get so lucky?
posted by Dorothy 11:49 AM
