KDUNK

Dear Lili,

I love you but you have been impossible lately. You need constant rocking and patting and motion or you freak out and scream and beat your fists against my shoulders and bend your back and kick my stomach and look constantly as if you are sucking on sour lemons. I look forward to your ‘terrible twos’. That should be a real gem.

Things that are impossible to do when you are in this state: check email, make a phone call, use the bathroom, eat something, have a coffee with a friend, exercise, write, nap, etc. Thank goodness you are so darn cute.

I think you are growing. Maybe this is a growth spurt that requires you to let out all your frustrations and beat your mother physically and mentally for eight hours a day. All I know is that you are giving my arms a real workout today. Strolling you around the apartment – which is the square footage of a Starbucks wheelchair accessible bathroom stall – over and over and over again. Sneaking in some typing on this blog – with one hand.

xo

Sometimes your Dad busts me worrying frantically over something that is very ‘new Mom’to worry about and is most likely normal.

For example, he recently glanced over to my computer screen in which I typed the following phrase into the search engine with a very concerned look on my face,

“newborn stares for hours”.

A few parents have told me your kid will have likes and dislikes from the moment they are born that stick with them as part of their personality forever. Here are Lili’s likes and dislikes so far – wonder which ones will stick:

LILI LIKES

• The changing table mid-nurse. She comes alive. Laughing and smiling. Kicking her legs. A time for singing songs. Reading a book.
• Music and people
• Ceiling fans – especially if they are moving
• To be rocked to sleep
• The sound of water and especially tub time
• When Dad burps her
• Being nude
• Her hair brushed after a bath
• Staring at the light from the window
• Staring at the painting above our couch and the pillows made with bright colored thread
• The pattern on our comforter
• Being on her back
• The flash of a camera
• Being outside
• The sling
• When we act like fools and laugh
• Watching European soccer on TV
• The sound of her Grandmother’s voice

LILI DISLIKES

• Being swaddled – an arm always escapes
• Being overstimulated or bored
• Socks and hats – getting dressed in general
• Coming out of a bath and being wrapped in towel to dry
• Going into stores in the stroller after being outside
• When the car stops moving
• When you burp her mid-nurse – thinks she will never get milk again and freaks out and pounds her fists and kicks wildly
• Sleeping in our bed between us even though we want her to
• Her face washed
• Being rocked while nursing – makes her stomach sick
• Waking up – takes a while – lots of stretching and groaning and body twisting and whatever you do don’t sing to her or play with her until she is ready
• The Baby Bjorn

You will be staring at me from your changing table. You look eager and happy in your half nakedness. You are wide eyed and waiting for me to do something fun like wave my arms, make a silly face or sing a song. I attempt a song dusting off the memories of my old babysitting days. I begin,

“Where is Thumbkin, where is Thumbkin….here I…blah..da…da…blah…” (PAUSE as I fade out the song not remembering the lyrics…)

You look disappointed. After a moment I confess and give it to you straight,

“Honey, I don’t know where Thumbkin is, ok? And I don’t know the lyrics. Who needs Thumbkin anyway.”

You seem ok with this.

12/4/07 at 9:40AM my daughter Lilian Birdie Shepard was born.

But first…I will start at the beginning…

9PMish – I was on the couch watching ‘Survivorman’. I like that show. It makes me feel as if my life is so easy in comparison and that I will also be prepared to make a fire out of a fish hook and some human hair should I be stuck on an iceberg in Alaska. At the commercial break I got my first of many labor pains to come. Husband watched the clock. The pain was different than labor pains I had before. I thought ‘oh shit’. This is it.

9:30PMish until 5AMish – some vague things went on here during this time period. I think I attempted to sleep like they recommend in the books – but it’s like drinking ten Red Bulls and saying, “Think I’m just going to shut my eyes for a while…” The book also suggests a bunch of other absurd things that frankly you have no interest in doing as you are waiting for the labor to REALLY kick in such as ‘write a letter to the baby’, ‘enjoy some cheese and crackers with your husband’, etc. What??!

5AMish – water breaks while in bed. This is not the water breaking you see in movies or read about aka the mini tsunami that requires ten towels. It’s more like, “Did I just pee myself?” The start of many glamorous elements to childbirth. Tell husband water broke. He has look of ‘oh shit’. This is it. We call doctor – (mine not on call until mid-morning). Doc is very nice and says, “Why don’t you come in.” I say, “No – I’m feeling great. I’ll come in around 10AM or so…” (it’s 5AM currently) There is a long pause until she says, “Ok honey…but no need to be a soldier in this…”

5:05ish – (five minutes later) I drop to knees of bedroom screaming with worst labor pain yet. Scream to husband, “CALL THE DOCTOR!!!!” Husband calls back, “Hi? It’s us that just called? Yeah. We’re actually coming in after all.” Oops.

5:30ish – husband calls car service to pick us up. (this is what you do in Brooklyn when you don’t have a car) Husband runs around apartment gathering eight – yes eight bags we have packed (I hear you parents snickering out there…) I am clutching two giant bed pillows. Between contractions I am a normal human able to talk, walk, laugh and breath. When a contraction comes I drop to the ground like someone has shot me from behind and moan, groan and breath while husband counts, “ONE TWO…(deep breath and exhales)…” The counting actually helps me. Gives me illusion of control. I can already tell I am having trouble talking through contractions which means they are coming faster and so is the baby.

5:45am – car service arrives. Instead of the usual sleek Lincoln Town car they usually send it’s literally a beat up lemon off the lot with the bumper hanging off and come to find – no shocks. I feel every bump while driving to the hospital which can only be described as water skiing while nine months pregnant. We continue our breathing. The driver keeps looking in the review mirror at me. He looks nervous.

6:00am – arrive to the entrance of hospital. I am surprised I did not give birth over the cobblestone streets of Chelsea in car with no shocks. Husband unloads 55 bags from car and while doing so I walk towards entrance but have a HORRIBLE contraction mid-way. I drop to knees on the freezing cold streets of New York, clutching two bed pillows and lean against brick wall of hospital building exterior. Wind chill – FREEZING.

6:05am – out of nowhere a short, beautiful Chinese woman in a rose colored jacket walks up to the building’s entrance. She rushes over to me and leans down to where I am laboring and says softly and calmly with hand on my back, “Sweetie are you in labor? Who is your doctor? I am a midwife with the hospital. After this contraction I’m going to pick you up and we are going to walk inside and I will bring you upstairs. You are doing such a good job. Breath…breath…” Miracle Midwife talked me through the contraction and when it was over I stood up. She held my hand and rubbed my back. I turned around looking for husband who was still unloading 55 bags.

6:15am – Miracle Midwife (who I have never met in my entire life) helps me to make it upstairs to birthing center but I collapse again on knees outside the nurse’s station. Miracle Midwife – still with me – kneels besides me on floor saying calmly, “You are doing such a good job. Your baby is coming. Soon your baby will be here. Breath. Breath. After this contraction we are going to bring you into the birthing room, ok? You’re doing great.” Another nurse asks if anyone is with me at the hospital. I look back for husband – who apparently is now loading 55 bags onto elevator. I am afraid he will miss the birth. Oh well. There is always email.

6:30am – heroic husband arrives sweating and carrying 55 bags. Nursing staff enjoys good chuckle over amount of bags. I am not laughing. I am on ground again this time blood pouring out my body. Is this normal? HELP! Nurse tells me I need to get off floor (but I like the floor) and into bed so they can get me some relief. So cruel I think. So cruel! What’s wrong with the floor?!

6:45am – doctor I spoke to on the phone comes in. Very sweet. Contractions coming on and off and HARD. I vaguely notice but the hustle and bustle in room has increased as doctors and nurses prepare things and scurry about. Husband by my side. Miracle Midwife still there too. Doctor examines me and says I am six centimeters. Everyone is excited by this especially me. Most people come to the hospital two centimeters which sucks and you have to wait longer. Lets get this show on the road!

7:00am – laboring continues and husband now by my side. A sweet nurse named Ellen on my left. Labor pains peak and are HORRIBLE but Ellen and husband talk me through them. Husband counts, “ONE TWO…(deep breath and exhales)…” and again “ONE TWO THREE …(deep breath and exhales)…” Mid-contraction I scream at the top of my lungs at him, “NO THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” like he personally is trying to murder me. He sort of is by trying to extend my contraction longer by counting to three and not two. He says, “Ok! Ok! Sorry! No three…” The nurses giggle. He does not do this again.

7:15am – Now I’m pissed. WHERE IS MY PAIN RELIEF???!!!! I NEED RELIEF!!!!! I am screaming. During a contraction I am moaning and making sounds like an animal. Sounds I never have made before and at a volume that is thunderous.

7:30am – Doctor comes back in. Suddenly Magical Midwife appears again and grabs my hand. Leans in close to my face and says, “Kristen…you are NINE centimeters dilated. NINE! You can do this. You don’t need the epidural you can do this. Your baby is coming.” I look into her eyes. They are wide and beautiful and hopeful and I believe her. I must confess here that if someone said the only way to get pain relief in labor was to be stabbed in the eye with a long needle I would have said yes. Prior to labor and during. But for some reason I trusted her – and my body. Luckily – I was able to get a spinal which helped take the edge off. By ‘taking the edge off’in labor terms this means someone pouring you a glass of wine while another person begins to saw off your leg. Good times.

7:45am – my usual doc comes in. She is shocked and excited for me. Says she is proud of me for laboring on my own at home for so long and that I am almost there. She says she thought she might not make it in time my labor was happening so fast. I’m thinking, “That’s nice. Can you please go get your scrubs on?” She leaves room immediately after seeing look on my face.

8:00am – barely making it through contractions or so it seems. They feel horrible and endless. I can only focus on the doorknob of the fake wood paneled cabinet in the birthing room. Miracle Midwife has disappeared again – weaving in and out of my memories of the labor like a little angel. Husband remains amazing support talking me through them.

8:15am – Doc returns in scrubs and it is time to push. Nurse Ellen on left leg, husband on right leg and doc at the end. This seems cruel. I was just getting comfortable as in – able to position my body in a way where I could labor through a contraction and now I have to scoot down to the end of the bed, put my legs in the air and pretend like I’m taking the biggest dump of my life? It sucks. What next – SOMEONE ADDS A THREE??????

8:30- 9:14am- Pushing goes on forever. Nurse Ellen and doc start to get stern – in a good way because I push and than exhale too early. The baby’s head starts to poke out and they see her head and even her blinking eyes then I exhale and the baby gets sucked back in. Doc gets stern and tells me I really need to do this. I don’t want to disappoint – so I make it happen. Husband is freaking out and yelling, “Oh my god! The head! The head!” He looked so excited it helped me motivate. Plus I really wanted this to end. Dear god. I am also hungry.

9:15am – the final push. This is it. She slides out quickly. There is a momentary rush of people talking at once and excitement and a flurry of activity and my husband crying and a slimy cute bloody purple cone head thing coming towards me as Doc says, “It’s a girl!”

My husband: It’s a girl!

Me: It’s a girl???!! Oh my god. It’s a girl!!!

Much staring at this blinking, tiny human being with feet and arms and legs and a nose and lips…we made her.

Me: I think she’s a Lilian.

Later I was wheeled to the recovery room and passed the Miracle Midwife in the hallway. We stopped and I reached out my hand to her and started to cry.

Me: Thank you sooo much. I don’t even know what to say to you. You were like an angel that came out of nowhere.

She walked away smiling. Still never got her name.

Dear Lili,

Someone has been a REAL fuss bot the last few days. In all fairness you have had a bit of a cold and for a newborn with no shots yet that has got to be a little rough not being able to breath through your little nostrils.

But still. Take you off the boob – WAHHH. Put you on the boob – WAHHH. Take you in the stroller – WAHHH. Rock you – WAHHH. Burp you – WAHHH. Change you – WAHHH. Sing to you – WAHHH. Nothing really working. People tell me sometimes babies just cry and I’m trying to wrap my head around being ok with that but I must confess it is still hard. As the mother-in-law said – time to put on the ipod. Haven’t reached that comfort level yet but there is still hope.

The good news is during the day you and I have had several visitors, which can sometimes be stressful because I am anal about trying to keep the house clean. But often is a good distraction. I am still at the stage where I get very stressed out when you are wailing up a storm of tears when visitors are here and I am hosting alone. It’s hard because I often have to leave the visitor sitting in the living room alone to entertain themselves while I try and put you down or try and calm you and it’s hard to engage in a proper conversation when you can barely hear the other person over a newborn’s screams. But duh. I know. People understand.

So many people have brought us amazing amounts of FOOD which when you are trapped at home most the day with only one hand free helps so much! We’ve been given baked ziti and lasagna and meatballs and meatloaf and goat cheese and beet sandwiches and cookies and more cookies and fresh fruit and salads and soups and the list goes on. So grateful for all the thoughtful gifts.

You were good today. Before your Dad left for work he would yell your name and throw his hands in the air and you would crack a huge smile. You did it five times in a row. When he left for work I attempted the same game – with no luck. You took one look at me with a cold hard stare as if to say – oh…you again.

xo

Dear Lili,

Remember the several ponies I promised you for being such a good girl? Well last night at 4:30AM I told you they were all going to the glue factory. That prob wasn’t very nice of me now was it.

My darling kid – you don’t sleep at night. The minute night falls you get a glimmer in your eye – similar to your father – you are awake – ready to party – forget all this sleeping stuff.

Last night you were up from 10:30PM until 6:30AM. When I say up – this means ear piercing screaming bloody murder, desperate gasps as if we are torturing you, bending your body into the shape of a backwards letter C, yellow crust developing around your eyes you are crying so much and basically the two of us bleeding at the eyeballs we are so tired. Poor Dad has to work and I try to hide you away from him so he can sleep more but in a tiny apartment this is near impossible.

So…we three sit in the dark. We pass you back and forth to the hum of the flickering TV. We shush. Swing. Bounce. Burp. Diaper change. Cuddle. Nothing works.

The good news is – we can tell we are making progress as parents because before we would say things like:

something is wrong with her
oh my god – this isn’t right – she is in pain – lets call the doctor
do you think she has a cold?
she must be starving
why do people do this????? multiple times?!!!!!

instead – last night we could barely talk from lack of sleep and one of us watching the bad TV movie with a soundtrack to Phil Collins said:

I don’t think she likes Phil Collins

So ok…as slight payback maybe… we sang louder than your ear piercing screaming – “TAKE A LOOK AT ME NOW….” – Phil Collins Karaoke style until you abruptly stopped crying – looked at your two delirious parents belting out Collins – darted your eyes left to right multiple times and then picked up your screaming again.

Who could blame you. Really.

Lack of sleep moment of the day:

Spent ten minutes looking to read more about burping a baby. I suck at it and it makes your life miserable when I can’t get a burp out of you. Not to mention you can’t ever be put down to sleep because you are uncomfortable. So…I thumb through the classic Dr. Spock book looking for the subject ‘burping’. No burping to be found. What the hell? This is Dr. Spock – king of all babies – no chapter on burping????

Soon to realize I’d been searching for burping under ‘BIRPING’instead of BURPING. ???

Sigh… Mama needs sleep.