The Rest of the Story

Whew! Now we know how that cow in the movie "Twister" feels. The past three weeks have been a blur as Kristin and I stumble through life as sleep-deprived zombies, but while I usually forget where my keys are and whether the milk goes in the cupboard or the refrigerator, I never forget how beautiful Piper is and how delightful and peaceful it is to have her sleeping in my arms.

Our trip to the hospital was unexpected: Kristin had an ultrasound appointment on Friday afternoon, and the doctor told her to go home, get her bag, and go to the hospital right away because her amniotic fluid was a little low. Even though we didn't rush, we still sat for 45 minutes before being admitted since the hospital was swamped with 15 deliveries in one day and we arrived right before the shift change.

Eventually, Kristin got settled in, and was induced around 3:00 a.m. Saturday, December 29. Her drill sergeant, I mean nurse, stomped in around 7:00 a.m. to begin checking on her--only a little dilation, but by 2:00 p.m., Kristin was ready to push, and push she did--for two hours.

It wasn't looking good. The doctor had that "Hmmm, maybe a c-section is in order" look about her, but when she saw our faces, and Piper's head so close to coming out, she whipped out the vacuum. With some suction and more pushing (not to mention an episiotomy with scissors so big I thought she could sever bridge cables with them), Piper joined the excitement in the delivery room in a flash.

After a few minutes with the pediatricians, she was cleared for takeoff, and we had her in our arms. I was sent off to the nursery with Piper for processing, and Kristin was being sewn back together by the doctor.

Giving birth the weekend right before New Year's Eve isn't optimal. Over-caffeinated baby nurses and missing lactation consultants made the weekend a struggle (apparently babies don't breastfeed on weekends). We were being discharged on Monday at 11:00 a.m., so a lactation consultant was supposed to see us first thing Monday. In hospital-speak, this means 11:30 a.m. To be fair, the woman was lovely, but it was too little too late, so we went promptly from the hospital to the Postpartum Place in Chatham for the first lactation consultation.

Maria, Dawn, and Sharon at the Postpartum Place have been wonderful as they guided Kristin through some tough breastfeeding times the past couple of weeks. Things started out well, but Piper developed some thrush in her mouth, so it was tough going for a few days.

Fortunately, Kristin's mother was visiting, so she took care of cooking, cleaning and laundry, so Kristin could get a little rest, and I wouldn't feel too guilty about going back to work after my "generous" five days of paternity leave. This was very nice since everyone at work felt that since the holidays were over, we could now do five months of work in the next two weeks.

As all of you parents know, the killer has been no sleep. Piper is a lovely baby whose cries we have mostly figured out, and who has a relatively predictable schedule, so we are blessed by not having any true worries.

We didn't even have to worry about how Lily would react. Lily initially seemed to be unaware that Piper was even in the house, but now she's sniffing the bassinet to see what that smell is (diaper #18 no doubt), and wondering which stuffed animals are her toys and which are Piper's.

We're settling into a bit of a routine, and work has calmed down a bit, but we needed some rest somehow. Then, two days ago, we hit the new parent lottery when a call from Maria Parlapiano, the owner of The Postpartum Place, called. See the next entry for more information!