Dinahlynn's Xanga

The Teddy Test

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 18:43:05 GMT

Yesterday morning, as Kevin and I were watching Katherine sleep (yes, we do this all the time), I noticed her new teddy bear, sitting next to her.

Dinah: You know, of all the gifts people have given Katherine, that teddy bear is my most favorite.
Kevin: Mhmm?
Dinah: Of course, I like that receiving blanket that you bought in Wales, too - it's so nice and warm. But of gifts from other people -- the pink teddy. It's so soft and perfect.
Kevin: You know what the test of a good teddy bear is?
Dinah: No, what?
Kevin: The texture, and its ability to hang cutely.
Dinah: Hang cutely?
Kevin: Yeah. You know, you see a little girl walking along, holding her teddy by one paw (here he picks up the bear by one paw to demonstrate); it has to hang cutely. Like this.
Jay told me that.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 00:40:03 GMT

We bought Katherine a pacifier. Nuk; size 0 to 3 months.

Sorry to blurt it out like that, but there just didn't seem to be any other way to say it. This isn't one of those things that you can euphemize.

I had been holding out; "a pacifier," I told Kevin, would "confuse her." And us. How would we know when she was really hungry, and when she just wanted something to to sooth her? And how would she know when to let the pacifier go and cry for real food? Would she starve? Or, to be a little less extreme, would she not gain weight the way she should? And did she really need one? Pacifism, I knew, was fraught with uncertainties.

Kevin had no such reservations. He thought it would be very useful for the times when she didn't need food, but ate anyways, and then threw everything up. He called me from work. "Do you want me to pick one up on my way home?"
I, lost in my world of uncertainties, made difficulties about the choosing. "You have to get one that won't make her teeth grow crooked. Not one of the cheap ones."
"I'll let you get one, then." said Kevin. (Phew!)
He continued. "Tomorrow, when you go to town."
Oh.

As it happened, I didn't have a chance to make it to the store, tomorrow. Or the next time. But finally, yesterday, I bought one. Katherine has a cold, and Kevin was very persuasive about how a pacifier would keep her throat less dry. So there it was.
But even after I had it, I kept it in the package. "It needs to be sterilized," I told Kevin when he asked about it. "People usually sterilize the soother when it's their first baby."
But I couldn't hold out forever.
Today, when I had to get ready to go out and Katherine wasn't happy, I got out the soother (yes, and boiled it for 5 minutes), and gave it to her. And, of course, she loved it. Settling down with great contentment, Katherine enjoyed her soother. And when I brought her out to the van, she popped it out of her mouth, finished with it for the moment, letting me know that she wasn't dependent on it for survival.
Not yet, anyways.

I think I'm paranoid in my mothering. I'm afraid to feed her every hour, because I worry that I'll help her develop bad eating habits. I'm afraid to rock her to sleep, because she might become dependent on rocking. I'm afraid to allow the house to be perfectly quiet as she sleeps, because she might get out of the habit of sleeping anywhere.
The pacifier has taken me down a road of self-discovery, showing me that I borrow trouble for the future. I've been unable to simply accept the good of the present time without worrying. Which is so silly. "Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof."

And now, I'm wondering if I do this in other areas of life, too.

Kevin and the Genie

Tue, 08 Dec 2009 13:27:58 GMT

Dinah: I really need to figure out how to work this diaper genie.
Kevin: Yeah.
Dinah: *opens genie and pokes at rings* It seems pretty complicated. *rattles genie*
Kevin: Don't you need to turn that thing?
Dinah: What thing?
Kevin: That white ring with the bag over it.
Dinah: *turns the ring* Oh, yes! It works! Wow, Kevin, how did you come to be experienced in the use of diaper genies?
Kevin: John had one for his cat. It wasn't a diaper genie, but it was the same idea. What's so funny?
Dinah: Nothing.

We have Arrived!

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 15:07:35 GMT

Moment to Moment Existence

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 13:06:09 GMT

This morning, I did some ironing. After I finished Kevin's shirts, I started on one of my own.
Half-way through, it occurred to me that the baby might come before I had a chance to wear the shirt,
and thus waste all of my careful pressing.
So I changed into it.

And that
is just a glimpse
into the moment-to-moment existence of a past-due pregnant woman.

Best Before...

Sat, 07 Nov 2009 13:46:06 GMT

Yesterday I had my weekly doctor's appointment. Because I have the flu, I called ahead, and they asked me to go in to emergency for my appointment, rather than obstetrics. The doctor would come down and see me there, they said; that way the other pregnant ladies wouldn't be exposed to the virus. I was happy to do this; to spread the virus to ladies in their first trimester would be to (possibly) cause brith defects in other people's babies - awful.

So, I walked (read: waddled) into Emergency and took a number. 12. The nurse was closetted with someone in her office, asking the initial questions. The receptionist was asking someone else for their date of birth. I took a mask, sanitized my hands, and sat down. Time passed. I tried to see the number of the girl next to me. She noticed me looking at her, and gave me a blank stare, over her mask. I quickly looked past her, as if I was checking the time.

The nurse released her patient back into the waiting area and called the next number. "Number ten?" I was close! I pushed the baby's foot out of my ribs and waited. "Number eleven." He didn't take long. And then it was my turn. The nurse interviewed me, took my blood pressure, which was higher than it's ever been, I would say (though still in the 'optimal' range!), and sent me back out to wait. "The doctor will come down to see you; it shouldn't be too long."

I sat and watched the snow for a while - I love this part of winter. I walked around a bit; standing is more comfortable, sometimes. I played block-breaker, on my phone. Too bad this phone doesn't have tetris. I always liked tetris. The clock said I'd been waiting for over 40 minutes. I texted Kevin. "They're keeping me waiting as long as if I were a real emergency patient." I hit send, then grinned at how ironic that was.

One hour and twenty minutes had passed before they finally called my name. "You can go upstairs," the orderly said, "to Obstetrics."
"But I thought people with the flu weren't supposed to --?"
"It's okay." he said. "You go down this hall, and then up in the elevator, and then..." He gave me a string of long, complicated directions. Obstetrics is in the 'old part' of the hospital, so even the floors were labelled differently. What looks like level 2 is really the ground floor, apparently.

But I found my way there, and adjusting my mask, walked down the hall to reception. The place seemed very quiet. Lights were dimmed, or off. There wasn't a pregnant woman in sight. The place looked closed. I stepped up to the desk. The nurse and the receptionist gave me their undivided attention; something I had never experienced before. Obviously, the clinic was over for the day, and they had stayed just for me. That was pretty sweet. "Dinah? You can come with me."
And five minutes later, my appointment was finished. I'm fine; the baby's fine, and they want to see me again on Monday, because the 'serve by' date on their container labelled "Horsman Baby" says 11/07/09.

For the Record...

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 14:52:52 GMT

I feel huge! As I sit here, trying to use my laptop, I feel the Horsman baby pushing against my ribs. So much for having "a long torso," so that the "baby will have lots of room!" Stairs take my breath away, and I've pulled muscles from the strenuous exercise of getting up out of bed!
I'm so glad that the mattress is off the floor.
That Kevin urges me to rest.
That this baby should be out and about by the end of the week.
That I'm a mother.
Life is good.

A quote from M. Driscoll: "No one is going to do a better job parenting than mother. I don't care if you have more degrees than Fahrenheit..." Women have instincts and knowledge of their own children that a professional can't match.

Trimesters of Pregnancy

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 10:51:12 GMT

Trimesters of Pregnancy

Author: Unknown

The beginning's exciting, I'm pregnant at last!
But the excitement's soon over and goes downhill fast.
Instead comes the sickness, the aversion to smells,
Will I survive months one, two and three?
I try to remember...My baby's in me!

The next part is easy, my energy's back.
Morning, noon, midnight seem good times for snacks.
I'm hungry, I'm happy, I'm radiantly glowing.
I buy some new clothes when my belly starts showing.
It's easy to justify all that I eat,
I simply remember ...My baby's in me!

The novelty's fading in trimester three. My ankles are swollen, My bladder's a pea.
The baby is kicking my insides to bits. Seat belts and shoe laces both give me fits.
I'm approaching my due date with much jubilee, It won't be much longer till...My baby's with me!

Dyslexic Duck

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 10:49:42 GMT

I walked to the mailbox today,
and realized that my legs won't move normally anymore. They just won't!
They seem to be turned a bit sideways; cause me to waddle.
Add to that the belly, which sways from left to right with every step, no matter how carefully I try to hold it straight,
and you get the complete picture.

I walk like a backwards duck.

Morning Mists on Lewis Mountain

Sat, 24 Oct 2009 11:35:20 GMT