Nate did better last night. He started his pre-flip out routine at 12:10 – we hoped he’d go until 1AM – but by 12:15 I had the bottle ready and my boy was feeding over 3 oz. He pooped in the middle but that did not slow him down. Changing him was like hand to hand combat – he’s very strong and determined – but I am bigger and stronger and I ultimately got a fresh diaper on him. Of course, he soiled 3 previous diapers in the process. But I am getting better at having a clean diaper ready after I remove a dirty one. He went to sleep at 1:45am and Shana fed him at 4AM. At 5:45 he was up and making noises. Rather than immediately feeding him, I held and comforted him. It was touch and go. He could explode into wails or maybe, just maybe he’d calm down. I put a cup of water in the microwave to heat a bottle, and the microwave noise seemed to calm him. White noise! I thought and darted towards the laundry room to retrieve a nasty old fan I was too cheap to toss. I plugged it in but it was broken. If nate could have look at me disapprovingly, he would have. I held Nate for a while and walked around with him for 40 or so minutes, then watched some TV while I rocked him on my lap. He slept.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
First night without Carman. We go in confident. We’d put Nate on a schedule. Feed every 3 hours and then stretch the evening feedings to 7:30pm, 11pm, 2:30pm and then sometime between 6-7. That did NOT work. Shana woke up twice during the night to feed him – I don’t think she really slept at all after 1ish – and I woke up at 5:30 to try to sooth him until 7ish. What a joke that was. He was inconsolable much of that hour and a half. His cries were shrieking and brutal. I thought I was so smart by turning on the apartment’s central fan – to simulate the womb – and that worked for like 20 minutes. Brilliant. Then it was about carrying him around and shhh’ing him while he wailed on and off mostly on. At 6:45am, I thought, fuck it, let’s feed this boy, and he’s crying his face off and I’m trying to microwave water to heat up his bottle. I had to chuckle like an imbecile at this moment before he could finally eat. He’s freaking out, Shana stumbles out to say, “I think you should feed him”, and I sigh “I know i know” and then finally the stupid water is sufficiently heated and the stupid bottle gets sufficiently warmed and finally, finally, he drinks his milk. Bingo. Then it’s time to change him after burping him. This was a disaster. Nate craps after I remove the diaper and I block it with a washcloth, the shit gets on his clothes, the changing table sheet, the washcloth, his socks. I forget to heat the water. he pees on me after I get a new diaper and wipe up all the shit spewed on the previous diaper. I give him a quick washcloth bath and change his clothes. There’s a heap of clothes and towels on the floor soiled with poop.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Below is Nate about 5 minutes old. A team of nurses and doctors cleaned him up and put him in this warm comfy place. There was much activity. Off camera, Shana is bleeding and passing the placenta. Her doctor is wearing what looks like clamming boots because -- i suspect -- she must wade through a river of blood. Between the scrum of medical people around Nate and the doctor stitching up a groaning Shana, I am lost and bewildered, a silly happy man taking pictures...
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The morning of 9-10 I woke up and found a bloody show in the toilet. I had a feeling that it would be soon but that day at my appointment, the OBGYN said I probably wouldn’t go into labor for a few days. Michael and I left the office disappointed. It was raining out and I felt sick. I wanted to take a cab but we couldn’t find one so I walked to the Prince St. subway, stopping at Dean and Deluca and treating myself to some very non-diabetic treats. Back in Williamsburg, I did some errands—went to the post office etc, and got some middle eastern food to bring home. When I got home, I felt feverish, took a bath and then ate some dinner. Michael was at his third of three fantasy football drafts so I decided to try to sleep early but I suddenly had pain in my back. Was this a contraction? I had thought it would be in my stomach. The pain kept coming and I called Michael who said to call him back in 30 minutes. I took another bath and still felt pain so I called my mom. She was just about to go into a Robin Williams concert event with dad and said she would call at intermission. Then I called Michael again and told him to come home.
By that time I felt like I was leaking. When Michael arrived home, the whole bed under me was wet. We consulted the What to Expect book—was this water breaking? Were these contractions? It was confusing. I called Dr. Friedman who was on call and said if the contractions got closer to come to NYU. I decided to wait it out and let Michael sleep. I watched the clock and counted and finally decided it was time to go. I was in pain. We got into a car service, immediately fought about which corner the hospital was on and then rode in mostly silence. In triage the nurse started to do a test to see if my water broke, but one look under the sheet and she knew. They immediately put me into a very nice L&D room and assured me the epidural was on the way.
The epidural was a major relief. The nurse then turned off the light, it was about 3am, and Michael dozed while I waited. At some point Judy came into the room and then disappeared. Around 6am I needed more epidural and they checked me –I was about 7 mm. By this time, my parents were in the waiting room (they drove from DC in a rain storm)—as was Margot, Judy, Larry and Brook. An hour or so later I started pushing, which was the most painful experience of my life—it felt impossible. I really did not think I could push a baby out. The nurse and Dr. Friedman and Michael were rooting me on, really trying hard to make me be tough and push. I heard myself screaming, grunting, making animal sounds. I was sweating. I went very far inward, trying to make myself believe I could do what really seemed impossible. I fantasized about a C section and then just when I couldn’t push anymore, something slid out. And it was the most precious thing I've ever seen--it was Nate.