Boy Oh Boyers

We're eager for Alder to arrive, and of course at this point he is "full term." Most of the tricks to help women go into labor are old wives' tales that probably cause more adverse side effects than good, but one thing we know can't hurt is taking walks in this beautiful fall weather! Yesterday we stopped in the shade of a gazebo to take in the scenery. I needed to rest my back, so I asked Tom to let me lean against him. Tim said it was reminiscent of a scene from Forrest Gump where the two soldiers lean against each other to keep from having to sleep in the mud. So he snapped our photo. I guess it's good, since unlike with Rowan, I haven't taken the time to photograph my full-term profile. Enjoy!

Alder Russell Boyer arrived today, October 12, 2011 at 7:27am. He weighed 7 pounds 2 ounces and he was 19 inches long. The labor and delivery were challenging, but he arrived safely and has had a marvelous first few hours of life. We are so thrilled!

I'm writing this post from my blackberry (for the boys' reference if reading this 20 years from now, that's a mobile phone). It's the first time I've done that, but I've got Alder here on my chest and Tom is asleep. Anyway, what I want to write about is perspective. The kind of perspective I have with this new baby. With Rowan, in the middle of the night when the nurse brought him to me from the hospital nursery I nearly burst into tears because I still needed sleep so badly. Last night with Alder, and being even more sleep-deprived from such a rough overnight labor, I woke up and felt only delight to see my baby and feed him. This is because of perspective.

Perhaps the first kind of perspective is knowing how short this exhausting newborn time will really seem in retrospect. That reminds me that even the 2am feeding is positively precious, and I won't be robbed of savoring it. The second kind of perspective, though, I was not expecting. In contrast to the "I have done this before" view that comes from Alder being my second baby, I also have the "I probably will never do this again" that comes from him beingg our last planned baby. That combination is a powerful one indeed.

I'm so blessed to have this opportunity, to be mother to these beautiful children, and to treasure each second with both of them.

Now, since Dad is not benefitting from the hormones helping to give me such a happy outlook, I'll see about getting him some coffee.... :)

My last post talked about the perspective shift I've experienced with this second baby. It's so true -- in fact, last night I realized it was 2am, I was exhausted, but I was sitting in the rocker holding Alder who was fast asleep and could easily have been put in his crib where he sleeps remarkably well. At 2am with Rowan, it was all I could do to keep from bursting into tears from exhaustion, but with Alder it's all too real how few these precious middle-of-the-night feedings are when it's all said and done.

I say that God has mercifully reminded me not to expect anything to be the same between Rowan and Alder, by having my pregnancy, labor, and deliveries be dramatically different from each other! Just a few examples. With Rowan I couldn't stand the smell of coffee; with Alder I probably drank three cups a day (mostly decaf) because I couldn't get enough of that wonderful scent and flavor. With Rowan I didn't exercise at all; with Alder I was still biking through the state park just a few days before he was born. Rowan's delivery was essentially painless (thanks to a very nice epidural, of course) and stress-free; Alder's was very painful (despite a very nice epidural) and his heart rate was dipping so low, we knew we could be whisked away to the operating room at a moment's notice.

The big difference we're dealing with now is eating. With Alder, I was full of confidence from nursing Rowan successfully for more than 10 months (until he refused to nurse anymore). But it was clear in the hospital that Alder was going to present challenges -- his tongue seemed almost unable to go where it was supposed to, to generate suction. Unfortunately this became a huge problem the night after we got discharged from the hospital, when I realized that Alder was essentially not getting any of the milk I was producing. A Saturday morning visit to the pediatrician confirmed it: Alder had lost only 8 ounces during his first 48 hours, but had lost another 5 ounces in just 24 hours. Follow-ups with pediatrician, lactation consultant, and a pediatric dysphagia specialist have confirmed that Alder is basically unable to operate his tongue in the necessary way to nurse. Sigh.

So, my life currently includes pumping breastmilk every three hours, and giving it to Alder in a bottle with a special nipple to help train his sucking. We have to precede that bottle feeding (and interrupt it sometimes if his form slips into bad habits) with some special tongue exercises. Thankfully within just a couple of days of that scary checkup where his weigh had dipped to 6 pounds 5 ounces, another check showed that he was back up to 6 pounds 11 ounces (1 ounce higher than his hospital discharge weight) so our next pediatrician visit will be for his routine 2-week checkup. Here's a picture of him on the scale when we got the good news that his weight was back up and we were out of the woods. We're really hoping that the therapy will have a good outcome, and that he'll be able to nurse soon.

You know that woman whose baby screams in a public place while she seems not to hear it? I am that woman.

As you can see from this photo of Alder in his carseat, he sometimes isn't too happy to be in there. Usually it's the first five minutes of him being in it and then he goes to sleep, but sometimes he persists with screaming for a longer period of time (for example, the entire way home from the hospital)! The truth is, there's no use in trying to comfort him: shushing, rocking, offering a pacifier...we've tried everything, and nothing works. You just have to give him a few minutes to scream, and then he's fine.

Today at Alder's speech therapist appointment (no, he doesn't stutter -- she's helping him learn to nurse) I had my hands full: car seat, diaper bag, baby. After changing his diaper I decided to go ahead and buckle him in the car seat before paying at the front, so that I wouldn't be trying to hold him while I dig out my wallet, sign the receipt, and so forth. I knew he would cry, but this is a pediatric dysphagia clinic; they hear crying all the time, right? I didn't really feel like I had a practical choice.

I got up to the counter with my screaming baby in his carseat, set him down right next to me on the floor, and handed the lady behind the counter my credit card. Within about 20 seconds, one of the nurses came out and sweetly started talking to Alder, trying to get him to stop crying. Then a few more seconds of screaming and a second lady came out, perhaps an office assistant, who noticed that there was a pacifier in Alder's car seat. She picked it up and offered it to him persistently. (I was of course standing just about two inches from Alder's carseat, seemingly unaffected by his screaming, I'm sure.) I told her the pacifier wouldn't work, but she kept on trying. Finally they were both there in his face, rocking the seat, talking to him, obviously trying to spare themselves or me the stress of hearing a baby wail in such agonizing tones (and at agonizing volume)! He just kept on screaming, oblivious.

Finally I was done paying. I had patiently awaited an itemized receipt so I could file with my flexible spending account, and I calmly paraded out the door carrying my 7-pound screamer. Anybody just observing me would probably think I was deaf, to be able to seemingly ignore my baby's cries so completely. But I'm not deaf. I've just gotten to know my baby a little, and I'm old enough not to care what anybody thinks of us. :)