Santa, Baby

I took the younger three to the library this past Sunday where they were having a "Santa's Workshop" event. It was a spur of the moment trip when I saw the library share on Facebook that Santa would be there until the late afternoon; next year I will plan ahead so that we can do more of the crafts and enjoy the snacks instead of just seeing Santa. We got some cute and free pics, though.

Now, some of you who know us in real life may remember that years ago when our oldest was small, we were strongly opposed to Santa. He did not ever visit Santa, no presents were ever labeled "from Santa" and  when he was a preschooler I'm pretty sure we straight out told him, "Santa isn't real." Both of us were opposed to lying to the kids, and neither of us had ever believed in Santa ourselves and felt that it was important in any way. I admit as a kid feeling disdain for those kids who DID believe, but I was prone to feelings of superiority in general.

We still believe in much of that and don't do a lot of things intended to encourage a belief in Santa, but we're much more accepting of his place in Christmas. What changed? The first thing that really made me think was when we took the boys to see the Wiggles several years ago. We got fake flowers to give to Dorothy, we made a cardboard bone to give to Wags, and I realized that I would never tell the kids "Dorothy isn't real," or anything similar about any other television character. I would assume that they'd figure it out as they grew up. I started to loosen up then, but what really changed things was a surprised Santa visit at a church function when Roger was about four. The look on his face really was just magical.

Mostly, though, we've just realized that we don't have to treat everything so very seriously. Not everything is a big deal. Things aren't perfect and they don't have to be done perfectly right. You can just relax and have fun without considering further implications for everything. Yeah, we grew up a bit.

So, for our younger kids Santa has been treated just like any other magical character. No presents are labeled "from Santa," but they appear under the tree in unique paper. The kids can visit Santa if they want, just like they got to meet Dorothy and Wags and all the Wiggly Dancers. Roger gently grew out of a belief in Santa, and for the older boys Santa is just a fun game. I'm not sure what Rosie thinks. I do feel bad, though, that Pauly did have that brief and transient belief in the magic. . .

What I've Learned From School

Putting the kids into our local parish school after homeschooling for years has been an interesting experience. For the most part, the kids are doing very well. I've been spending a lot of time thinking about what I've learned while watching the kids adapt these first several weeks.

• What I think I "know" about the children may not be true at all. Even before we decided to put the kids into school, I had what I thought was a pretty good idea of which kids would do well, which would struggle and in what areas. Some of those ideas did turn out to be true, but others were entirely incorrect. I thought that Roger with his ADHD would do terribly with the structure of school. Based on his personality and our experiences, I thought that he would be in constant trouble, that he would have social problems, and that he would be miserable. Bob thought much the same thing. We were entirely and completely wrong. His ADHD has caused some problems -- the child can lose an assignment in between his desk and the folder where he's supposed to turn it in -- but he has not had any trouble with the actual structure of school and hasn't had significant problems behaving. He is happy to go to school and has actually complained on the days that they don't have school. Socially, he's doing just fantastic. He has a lot of friends and is really happy. We have seen our assumptions and expectations blown completely out of the water. On the other hand, some of the other kids have struggled in areas where we didn't expect to see them struggle. No matter how much we know our kids, we don't know them perfectly and they can always surprise us.
• Weaknesses need work.  For years I've operated under the thinking that one of the really big benefits of homeschooling is that things can be adjusted for the students' strengths and weaknesses. Pauly has always struggled with handwriting, and while we've worked on that steadily as its own subject, we made adjustments in other subjects. I didn't want to hold back his learning in science, or social studies, or X, because of his poor handwriting. We regularly did work orally instead of written, or allowed brief answers instead of complete sentences for reading comprehension, and we kept working on handwriting as a subject, waiting for his fine motor skills to improve so he could catch up. I was very worried with his transition into school, because he was behind not only in handwriting, but also in writing skills, I think largely due to our accommodations for handwriting which reduced his writing practice. I wasn't wrong in thinking he was behind, but I was shocked by how quickly his handwriting and writing output improved. In just a week or so there was significant improvement. While we'd consistently tried to work on his handwriting and writing, what he really needed was lots and lots and lots of practice. Making accommodations actually worked against what he really needed.
• I don't have to control everything, and it doesn't have to be perfect. This is one that I've "known" for a long time, but it can be hard to really believe in it. While I had realized while homeschooling that I needed to "settle" instead of search for perfection in order to maintain my sanity, this is even more true with the kids in school. While overall the academics are good, they haven't necessarily chosen the resources that I would use for each subject. There are particular areas, like the handwriting program they use in the early grades, that I really just don't like at all. I roll my eyes at some of the busywork religion assignments that my fifth grader brings home. I don't like how some of their assignments have been graded. Homeschooling let me be in control of everything, but that's simply not possible now that they're in school. Letting go of some of that control and just relaxing is a good thing.

The kids insist that they don't miss homeschooling. I will admit that I continue to look at curriculum catalogs and reviews. . .

The First day of School!

We got up early, really early. The kids were too excited to sleep. At least that way we were ready to go. Got breakfast, got the kids dressed, got lunches ready, got to school and got everyone dropped off on time. Good deal!

I discovered that a white dog and navy blue uniform pants aren't a great combination.

On the way out the door Roger said, "It's the first day of school, so meteor don't hit the earth today!" Apparently, he has been under the impression that we're in imminent danger of a meteor strike at all times. I tried to clear that up.

We'll see if they're all still smiling tomorrow!

One Week!

It is one week to the first day of school. One week to my children's first day of school, ever.

We have the school supplies purchased and sorted out into the children's backpacks, the uniforms purchased and tried on and wash, school shoes purchased. Each child has had a well child check and has had confirmed that their vaccinations are up to date. We are getting official school e-mail and mailing. It looks like we're actually going to do this.

And I'm scared.

I know this is "normal." The vast majority of children go to school, and everything goes just fine for most of them. But it is not our normal. We have always homeschooled. I have dealt with schools as a student, as an education student, as a substitute teacher, but never as a parent of one of the children. This will be a new role for me. I have always had the children with me for most of the day. Having them going for a majority of the waking hours will be very different. And I've always been the one totally in control. I have to let go of that control a little bit, here, and trust that other people can help and it will be fine.

Why School?

Last year was one of our best homeschooling years. I found a curriculum, Catholic Heritage Curricula, that provided a framework that I could work from for our entire schooling experience, and which relieved a lot of stress on my part. We made good progress throughout the year, and actually finished up nearly all of our planned lessons for the year. The kids seemed to like the school work, or at least they didn't hate it and didn't complain too much. So, considering how well things have gone, why are the children enrolled in school for the first time ever for the fall?

A major part of the reason is described in this blog post by Simcha Fischer. I have been trying to fit us into the "outfit" of a "homeschooling family" for several years, simply because I liked the idea, even if it did not necessarily work for us. My husband and I had previously made a commitment to homeschool, even before we had children, and due to this commitment I kept trying to walk in the homeschooling outfit, even when I was inclined to consider school from the time my oldest was first school age. If I found the perfect curriculum fit, then it would work, wouldn't it? I tried a different curriculum, different approach, different organizational method each year, and I managed to muddle through but not to thrive.

I don't know that the "school outfit" will be a better fit for our family, but I'm willing to try it on. I know well where homeschooling doesn't fit us, but I think trying out schooling may relieve pressure on me and help our family thrive, or at the very least it will make me appreciate homeschooling as I become more aware of all the negatives of school!

The End of the Year

The boys finished up their school year at the end of May (yes, this post is late!). This was a momentous occasion, because it is not only the end of this school year, it is also the end of this phase of our schooling adventure. Next year the children will be going to Catholic school.

Some pics of our celebration:

Pauly and his end of year completion certificate.

Roger is a little bit happy about finishing second grade.

The cake!

Fish!

Bob has started fishing again recently, since he has a bit of time before his classes start again, and he's been bringing the kids along, here and there. Pauly was the first to catch a fish, while on our camping trip.

Roger caught the next fish, while he and Bob were fishing one afternoon.

And today Bob took Rosie fishing, since she needs more one on one attention to learn what to do, and she caught THREE fish! They threw one back, but here are two of them.

Done with Kindergarten

Last Friday, Rosie finished up all her Kindergarten level work, and we celebrated with a certificate and cake.

State Cake

Pauly has spent the last 9 weeks more or less studying his home state of Kansas. On Friday, we made a cake in the shape of Kansas to celebrate.

Bob and Pauly making the plan. 

 The cake after being cut and iced.

 Pauly adding the major rivers.

Pauly and the finished cake.

Blogging

I've been meaning to blog regularly. I was planning an update on our homeschool year, what we thought of the materials, adjustments that we were making, new things we were doing. It hasn't happened. I've been planning on updating about the baby, what new things he was doing, my evolving thoughts on on the feeding/medication decision, and always plenty of pictures. It hasn't happened. So I'm posting this to let all my faithful readers (all three or four of you!) know that I'm being lax.

That Elusive Smile

Julian, at almost six weeks, is at that age when it is just about impossible to actually obtain photographic evidence of smiley interactions. He was being smiley and cute, so I grabbed the camera and propped him up for a better shot, but this is all I got.

I caught a hint of a smile in the last pic, but he smiles more than that, I promise!

Gratuitous Cute Baby Pics

Here are my favorites of the pictures taken by the hospital photographers.

Who knows what to expect? Part 2 - The Necesarean

After the BPP, things began moving. My nurse came back into the room and announced, "I was right! You're being admitted and we're going to deliver the baby." She had prepared us for this possibility earlier, when Bob and I had still thought that it was likely that we'd just be monitored for a while and then go home. Of course, after the baby completely failed the BPP I knew that it was time for him to be evicted. During the time we'd spent monitored at the hospital, the contractions I'd been having started becoming more regular and distinct, although they were still not that strong. His reaction to the contractions also became more obvious. I heard the resident doctor and nurses discussing the fetal heart rate strip in preparation for calling my own doctor, and I was surprised to hear them using terms like "some late decels, little to no variability, no accelerations." There are different kinds of deceleration patterns, some worse than others, and I knew enough about fetal heart rate monitoring to know that this terminology meant that the fetal heart rate pattern was worse than I'd thought.

The resident doctor called my doctor, Dr. D, while she was in my room and while they were finishing up my admissions paperwork. I was surprised that after she'd spoken to him for a while, she handed the phone to me and said "He'd like to talk to you himself." He asked me what had brought me into the hospital so he could hear what had been happening in my own words, and he talked about the test results from the heart rate monitoring and the BPP, and why he thought it was best to go straight to a cesarean. I was in complete agreement with that, though I'd never have predicted before hand that the word "cesarean" would be a relief to me. I wanted to know my baby was safe, and I didn't see how he could tolerate stronger contractions when he couldn't handle weak pre-labor ones. I handed the phone back to the resident so the doctor could give his orders, and I started getting prepped for the section.

I absolutely thought this section was the right choice, medically, but I was completely terrified. I was worried about the baby's safety, but I was also worried about the section itself. I'd never had significant surgery, and since I'd had four natural deliveries I'd never even had an epidural. I wasn't sure what to expect from the experience itself, it was totally different from what we'd done before and what I'd been preparing for.  While they weren't wasting time, it was also not a desperately urgent section. Baby continued to be monitored while we prepared for the section. I talked to the resident doctor, the anesthesiologist, and signed the necessary paperwork. The nurses tried to keep the mood as light as possible to be reassuring. We joked about how good Bob looked in the blue surgical scrubs, and lamented the fact that the camera was out in the car, we hadn't expected to meet baby that night. My OB arrived, and I was never more grateful for his sense of humor. The first thing he said was, "See what happens when you choose an OB for prenatal care? You have all kinds of complications."

Still, by the time we got to the OR I was terrified. The nurses and anesthesiologist were wonderful, but it was still very difficult for me to relax. The idea that I'd be able to feel what was being done, but it just wouldn't hurt, was very scary. I finally began to relax some and was able to chat with the anesthesiologist and the nurse once I was pretty sure they'd begun the surgery, and I hadn't felt any pain. When the doctor ruptured the amniotic sac, he noted that there was a lot of meconium, another sign that baby had been significantly stressed in utero. They suctioned out his mouth and nose before he was even all the way out, then unwrapped and cut the cord (it was wrapped around his neck and shoulder twice) and handed him to the nurses. He shocked everyone by making his first weak cry on the way over to the warmer. They'd been prepared for a medically compromised baby, but he really did quite well. Bob tells me that he was purple and limp when he was born, but he began to breathe on his own right away and soon began to pink up and regain his muscle tone. I was so happy I was practically crying as I watched them examine him in the warmer. His wiggles and stretches were all the more precious because they'd been absent for the last several hours before he was born. Soon the NICU pediatrician attending the delivery said that he was obviously not needed here, they quickly weighed and measured the baby, and he was brought over to be with me while we waited for them to finish the closure of the incision. Everyone thought he was beautiful, of course, and there was much discussion about whether or not he had red hair.

After the section, Dr. D told me, "Your tubes and ovaries look great, and the incision is a low transverse one. You should be good for four or five more vaginal deliveries with no problem." Bob appreciated this, but I don't think we'll take him up on his suggestion. We joked that I'd "gone over to the dark side," since I'd had a completely medicalized delivery after four natural, low intervention ones. The dark side seems to have cute babies.

When we got back to the same labor-delivery-recovery room that I'd been monitored in, they unwrapped baby and we got the skin-to-skin cuddle and breastfeeding time that we'd missed out on right after the delivery. I got some juice and crackers to snack on. Bob fell asleep.  Overall, the experience was far, far better than I had thought a surgical birth would be, and luckily the recovery has also been easy so far. I hope that stays true. In any case, I have a beautiful healthy baby.

Here's a gratuitous cute baby pic -- Julian at two and a half days old, ready to go home.

Who knows what to expect? AKA Birth Story - part 1

Sunday was a day of waiting and anticipation. It was two days past my due date, and I was hoping that it would end up being The Day. My doctor was on call during the weekend, but was going to be off most of Monday, and I was afraid I'd end up delivering during the one day he wouldn't be available. Bob had been predicting a birth date of the 18th, which would be Monday, for some time, so that just encouraged me to hope for baby on Sunday. Saturday evening I'd had a good string of contractions about eight minutes apart, but they stopped once I went to bed.

I was encouraged Sunday morning by a couple episodes of bloody show. That meant labor couldn't be too far away, but it certainly didn't promise that it would happen the same day. Unfortunately, the rest of Sunday was disappointing. Despite walking around at Target to encourage things, overall the day was quiet. I seemed to be having less frequent pre-labor contractions than I'd been having. Around four in the afternoon, I noted to Bob that the baby had seemed quiet all day. He hadn't been active during my nap like he usually was. I just assumed that I'd been focusing so much on the absence or presence of contractions that I hadn't noticed his movements as much as usual. I figured I'd lie down later and he'd be moving just fine, but right then I had things to take care of. In retrospect, I wish I'd taken the time right then to lie down, drink a cold sweet drink and count his movements. Instead, I fixed dinner, did household chores, and stayed busy until bedtime. At that point, I remembered that baby had been quiet, and after thinking about it, I actually couldn't recall when I had last felt a distinct, strong kick from him.

I was a bit worried, but not too much. I lay down, and tried to stir him up a bit. Usually, if you would push on him a bit, he'd poke back, or move away, but definitely be responsive in some way. Both Bob and I had enjoyed "playing with him" this way in the past, and it was pretty reliable. Sunday night I couldn't wake him up. When I pushed on him, there was no pushing back, no moving away, no resistance. It just didn't feel right to me at all, especially combined with the thought that he'd been quieter all day. I desperately tried to remember when I'd last felt him move, and all I could come up with for sure is that he'd been very active after I'd gone to bed the night before. I thought that he had made some small movements throughout the day, but I couldn't be sure, and that terrified me. I went and drank a Dr. Pepper to hopefully wake him up, and I called the doctor's office nurse helpline, but I was pretty panicky at that point. I went ahead and called my mom to come up and watch the other kids so we could go get checked out. I was supposed to wait 30 minutes after drinking the cold, sweet drink to go in, but I knew I needed to go in for my peace of mind, regardless. I wasn't sure whether I was being reasonable, or was being unnecessarily paranoid, or if I'd already messed up by not going in earlier.

On the way to the hospital, I felt one soft movement that I was pretty sure was Julian. After we checked in, I felt one more brief movement. At that point, I figured that I just hadn't waited long enough for the soda to kick in, and we'd find out that he was fine. Still, I think the sound of his heartbeat when the nurse first found it was an amazing relief. They wanted more than a brief listen, so I assumed we'd be monitored for an hour or so, find out he was fine, then get to go home. It didn't turn out that way.

It wasn't long before I noticed the first deceleration -- or slowing down -- of his heart beat. It was noticeable just from listening, I couldn't see the EFM strip from where I was. The pressure sensor for the monitor wasn't in a good position, after a while they moved it so that it would pick up the small, prelabor contractions I was having. It became clear to them (I could already tell) that the decels were definitely related in time to the contractions. While I heard the decels, I wasn't aware of something that is actually more significant: he wasn't having any accelerations in his heart beat. This lack of reactivity is a significant sign that baby may not be tolerating the uterine environment. The doctor ordered a biophysical profile, which is an ultrasound that looks at particular measures of baby's well being, to find out what was going on.

When the ultrasound tech arrived to do the biophysical profile, I was well aware of what to expect. I'd already had a couple BPPs this pregnancy, because the doctor had wanted extra monitoring of the baby due to my exposure to fifths disease, which can rarely cause problems with the baby. In those BPPs, the whole thing was over fairly quickly, as the necessary movements were noted quickly. The BPP Sunday night was different. The ultrasound tech took the measurements to estimate baby's size, and measured the amniotic fluid index, then tried to meet the other criteria. She was looking for body movements, extension and flexion indicating good muscle tone and practice breathing motions. She had to note the presence or absence of these movements over a thirty minute time period. As I noted before, with my previous BPPs, all the movements were noted quickly, and the whole procedure took 15 minutes or less. This time, we spent most of the thirty minutes watching a perfectly still baby on the monitor. Poking, prodding, shaking, speaking to him, etc. did not elicit any kind of response whatsoever. The tech kept asking if I was feeling any movements, she didn't want to miss recording something. I wasn't feeling anything. She'd periodically check his heart rate again, which did provide some reassurance. Still, the ultrasound made it clear that something was very wrong with the baby. It was not easy to watch.

Julian Pictures!

Here are some pictures. They aren't perfect, but they'll do. We just ordered a CD of the pics they took here in the hospital, and we'll post those when we get a chance.

 Julian's a grumpus.

 This pic looks a lot like his daddy's baby pics.

 The older kids enjoying their baby brother. Verity is not in the picture since she's busy climbing the walls.

 Julian was mimicking Pauly's facial expressions, and cracked all the kids up.

This last pic, Verity had asked to hold the baby and Grandma helped her out. She held him about 30 seconds, then screamed "No, I don't WANT the baby!" and pushed him away. Thank goodness grandma was right there to help Julian.

Eggs

Roger made himself lunch today. I was mean and would not let him have cold cereal because he'd already wasted nearly a whole bowl when he didn't finish it at breakfast, so he decided to make himself some scrambled eggs. Four, to be precise. I warned him, "You'd better eat everything you fix."

When he got up from the table to go play I asked him, "Did you eat all the eggs?" "No!!" he exclaimed. "Why not?" I ask. "There were a whole lot of them and I was full!!" I looked at his plate and saw that it was empty. "What did you do with them, did you throw them away?" "No!!" "Then what happened to them?" "I was full, I couldn't eat them!"

Finally, I figure out that he thinks I meant all the eggs in the fridge when I asked him if he'd eaten all the eggs. The whole time I was thinking, "What the heck happened to those eggs, then?" and he was likely thinking, "Is mom nuts??"

Two and a half weeks left

until my due date. Things are now going swimmingly with the pregnancy. All of the various issues I'd been concerned about have cleared up and things are going along normally now. Hopefully it will stay that way through the delivery!

Are we ready? Not in the slightest. I haven't gotten the infant seat from out of storage at my parents' house, haven't washed and organized the baby's clothes, and in fact don't even have drawers or a box or anything to put the cleaned and organized clothes into, and don't have a place for such drawers even if we had one. We haven't gotten the cradle out and put it back together (and I'm not sure where the cradle's sheets are!), or packed a hospital bag, or collected phone numbers together so we can call people after the birth (my address book has met a sad an untimely end). The house is still a pig sty, no meals in the freezer, I'm sure I could list more things that are undone. The child has no socks at all, but does have a fedora waiting for him. Don't you love our priorities?

In other news, the boxes containing all our homeschooling materials for next year are now in the state, and will be delivered tomorrow! Ten to one those things will be gone through, organized, and carefully put away before I even think about the baby things.

Should we trust birth?

"Trust birth" is a phrase that I've commonly heard among those in the natural or home birth advocacy movement. There are even Trust Birth groups springing up advocating this. Such groups may state that trusting birth is natural, and fearing or distrusting birth is unnatural and has simply been taught through our culture. Is this correct? Fear of childbirth has in fact been common throughout history, in all times and cultures. Why? Because while birth is a natural process, it is also naturally a dangerous process. Childbirth in humans is an evolutionary bottle neck, where the advantageous feature of large, well developed brains conflicts with the advantageous feature of narrow pelvises, to aid bipedalism. It is also a complex process, to which no other natural process can be an adequate comparison. Pregnancy itself precariously balances the needs and health of the fetus against the needs and health of the mother. The result is historically high rates of both perinatal (around the time of birth) mortality for the babies involved and maternal mortality. This has the evolutionary purpose of keeping head and pelvis size in check, yet as a human event each loss represents a tragedy. We are not willing to accept the death of a human being as simply "evolution in action."

Improved sanitation and nutrition and modern medicine -- including antibiotics, safer cesarean sections, improved ability to monitor the health of mom and baby during pregnancy and childbirth, and developments in neonatal resuscitation and life support, among many others -- have dramatically decreased the perinatal and maternal mortality rates, although attempts to further reduce it are constantly being made. We now take these improvements in mortality rates for granted. We assume that mother and child will come through birth and be fine. Ironically, it is these very improvements that allow us to assume that birth is low risk and worthy of trust.

If we cannot trust birth, should we then fear birth? Are all interventions good and necessary, with no harmful side effects? Is the best response to make birth a completely medicalized event, attempting to remove all uncertainty? This position forgets that birth, as a natural physiological process, is not fully understood by science. We know of what can go wrong, but still often do not know why it goes wrong. We don't fully understand the purposes of the natural physiology of birth -- we can't know for certain what elements in the process of birth serve a purpose in the health of the mother and child, and we don't always know the long term effects of medical interventions.

I propose the best attitude of a birth attendant is not "trust birth," nor is it "fear birth," but rather is "respect birth." That is, respect birth both as a natural physiological process which goes well much of the time, AND respect birth as a complex event with inherent and natural risks. Birth attendants need both to allow labor and birth to unfold, and to exercise vigilance and intervene when deviations from normal begin to put mother and child at risk. This balance isn't easy, it likely takes significant training both in normal births and potential complications. It means accepting and responding to the scientific evidence on birth practices and interventions without prejudiced ideology. It means abandoning simple catch phrases or black and white positions and truly grappling with what we know, and what we don't know.

30 1/2 week update

Less than 10 weeks until my due date! Only 10 more weeks of stabbing pain when I walk, joy!

Mostly I am doing the same, feeling gigantic, getting plenty of "Is it twins?" comments, and being exhausted. I had another ultrasound yesterday, to verify that my previously low-lying placenta had moved up (it had) and to check on baby's growth, since I've been measuring big and have been getting increasingly bigger -- I'm now measuring 5 cm ahead. I have never measured big this early, and it is definitely making me more uncomfortable. I'm already experiencing shortness of breath and I can't see how I'll have room to grow for 10 more weeks. The ultrasound showed a baby on the bigger side, but not gigantic. It also showed what my doctor called "a generous amount of amniotic fluid." In my understanding, this can be problematic but at this point we will just need to continue to monitor it, so I'll likely have another ultrasound in a few weeks. Baby is already head down and hopefully will stay that way. Here's some pics:

28 Week Update

Well, I'm gigantic. Or at least I feel like I am. I am measuring 5 weeks ahead, but doctor seems to feel that this is likely due to stretched out muscles from my four previous large babies. I do have an ultrasound scheduled for 30 weeks, to check baby's growth, check my amniotic fluid levels and verify that my placenta, which was low-lying at my 20 week ultrasound, has moved up.

My ligaments and muscles aren't very happy about the size of the baby, and they'll probably only get less happy. I'm feeling pretty feeble but resting and using maternity support have helped. I'm considering making an appointment with the physical therapist at my OB's office, but I'd need to get a referral from my primary care provider and am not sure it would be worth the hassle and the time for the appointments. I am going to try following a stretching and exercise regimen I found online.

Had the gestational diabetes screening today, I'll find out the results in a day or two.

Here's a pic of my hugeness: