Not too much right now

Not too many thoughts to offer up right now. Many thoughts tumbling around this rusty coffee can / brain of mine, but nothing that can be appropriately written down yet. Not enough distance or perspective. All is well though, and I love my little one more each day. Some pictures perhaps?

 

Nils

He's here now. All went well. All is well.

And his name is Nils. Why Nils? Briefly:

We wanted a German name. Something that was short and sweet, but left a good tone ringing in our ears. After we had decided on Nils and I was chatting with my mother one afternoon, she joked that we should name the baby something Norwegian. His last name was German, after all. His middle name (my maiden name) was Finnish. Shouldn't his name cover all his ethnicities? Just for kicks I went to a couple "Norwegian boy names" websites and sure enough, there was Nils. Settled. 

A couple months later I was having a daydreamy doodle-type moment, and wrote out his name on a piece of paper. It was the first time I had ever done this, and something about it struck me as odd. It turns out that "Nils" is composed entirely of letters from the name "Allison". I know, I know. That probably isn't so meaningful. It's not an exact anagram after all (Nilsalo? Can't do that to him.), but something about it just feels nice to me. I spent nine months forming him. His cells came from mine, he listened to the blood running through my veins. I imagine little parts of me breaking away to form parts of him... and it seems so right that a few letters broke away from my name to form his. Wouldn't it be nice if for the rest of my life, every time I heard his name I remembered that bond? You know, because I'm in danger of forgetting and all.

On to pictures:

One day old in his hospital bassinet.

Sleeping on my shoulder. I know it looks like I've got a sneer on my face, but I swear I'm just looking down.

With Oliver after a long and difficult night. Both finally getting to do what they want - sleep.

Nearly a week old now, and flashing those eyes of his at us.

Babies don't smile at this stage, I know.Doesn't it look like he's smiling, though?

the last one, I swear

Still waiting. 8 days overdue now and I'm still hanging out here. Just waiting.

No, that's not entirely accurate. I'm not just waiting. I've gotten a few things done. I finished up two handknits for the baby, for example. Pictures below, and I swear these are the last "things I made for the baby" pictures I will be posting for awhile. Also the last post before the baby himself. I'm determined about that one.

 The "easy baby cardigan" I was working one during one of my last posts. It was taken from More Last Minute Knitted Gifts, and was just as advertised - easy. A tiny Mr. Rogers sweater! I'm rubbing my hands together with glee.

My  "manly baby vest", as posted on The Thrifty Knitter. Super soft, super cute... is it wrong to dread the day he grows out of it?

All right, Allison. Enough with the knitting and the posting already. Just have the baby!

So much time

I've been off work for a week now. Just me. No baby to take care of yet. Just lots and lots of time. I'm sort of savoring this down time, and sort of wringing my hands with impatience. How to fill the time?

So far:

I've just about finished my little baby sweater. 

I've stocked my freezer with meals to eat later, when we're exhausted and overwhelmed.

I've made lunch dates.

I've napped.

I've run a whole mess of silly little errands.

I've spent a lot of time on the phone.

I've cleaned and organized my apartment.

I've gone to prenatal yoga.

I've sat quietly, focusing with creepy intensity on my wall calendar.

Two days overdue. Little Steff Man is going to come when he's ready, and I kind of like that idea. He reminds me of me - he'll do things when he thinks the time is right, and not before. Rock on, little sweetmeat! Follow your gut! Just um, do you think you can be ready really soon?

More little things

I don't know if it's nesting, or if this baby gave me just the excuse I had always been looking for. Whatever the reason (a little of both?), I've continued my sometimes-bordering-on-obsessive streak of creating. A bit of knitting, a bit of sewing. As before, the projects are all pretty small. They've all been fun though, and I've learned a little something from each. The best part: my little muse will only give me MORE ideas and inspiration once he decides to arrive. Ah, the possibilities!

If I may share a few of the things I've been working on:

A tag blankie. I can't pretend to know all that much about babies, but many reliable sources have told me that they go nuts for this sort of thing. They love sucking on the ribbons, etc. All right, then. Worth a shot.

My first ever hand-knitted sweater. Exclamation point! It took me many starts and start overs, but I'm more or less happy with the end result.

A fleece winter hat, as modeled by an Ugly Doll (which I did not make). You can't see the hat's cute little elf-like pointy top from this angle. Will that keep you from sleeping tonight?

A small pile of swaddling blankets. Now all I have to do is figure out the mechanics of the actual swaddling process.

In progress now: a baby blue cardigan. This one is a bit bigger than the green sweater - once he outgrows the first he'll be able to slip right into the second. Don't worry, love; you'll never go without a mama-made sweater! Not even if you want to! I make this promise to you!

Back to waiting

I had December 29th all set up in my mind. I was making my peace with the idea of surgery, and getting excited at the idea of actually knowing what day my son would be born. Letting go? Allowing life to take its course? That stuff's for losers.

As I arrived at my doctor's appointment this week, I was informed that the date had been changed to December 28th. One day earlier even! One less day to wait! Okay, I could do this. If breech was our fate, and I was potentially destined to deliver all my children via C-section ("normal" birth after a C-section is apparently not so common)... at least I'd get a date to circle on the calendar. And I wouldn't have to worry about wasting two weeks of my maternity leave just sitting around my apartment, staring up at the ceiling.

Oh, silly Allison. You should know better than to get too attached to any idea of how birth will be. As it turns out, Little Steff Man pulled a dramatic, last-minute maneuver and turned head down for me. My own "mother's intuition" being somewhat underdeveloped (ahem), it took a sonogram to tell me this. I should have known, really. I had stopped getting quick, stabbing kick pains in my lowest parts. I had started feeling movement higher up and waaay to the right, something completely new. Etc. etc. I guess I was just so eager to have a definitive plan that I ignored the actual signs as they presented themselves to me.

It's back to waiting, then. This is good. I want to do this the way women have been doing it for thousands of years. I want to know what labor is like. I've managed to switch gears now, from researching C-section recovery to reading up on how to tell false labor from the real thing. It's all good... but I still kind of hate the uncertainty. When will it all go down? In four days? In four weeks? Guess I'll just have to let go. Let life take its course. Gol.

22 / 16 / Really, who knows?

 

This is it.

Okay, not really. It's not it yet, though I feel like I'm constantly on pins and needles. Just about time, right? Any day, right? Ooh, is that a cramp? The earliest sign of labor?

Tomorrow, Tuesday, marks the day that our little one is officially considered "full term." 37 weeks. He could be born tomorrow and not be considered premature. That means he's more or less ready to come out, right? Any time now, right? Ooh, is that another cramp?

Doing the math then, there are 22 days to go. Only, there might not be. More accurately - according to my doctor - there probably aren't. Little Steff Man, determined to do things his own way, is breech. Butt down actually, with his legs folded up close to his face. There is, apparently, not a doctor on the East Coast who will deliver a breech baby. I've done acupuncture, I've tried moxibustion, I've layed at home with my face in the ground and my backside high in the air. No success. In the face of all this, and as the window of "he can still turn" has just about passed, I've been scheduled for a C-Section. December 29th. 16 days from now. 16 days! That's just a little more than two weeks! Is that possible? Honestly, I kind of thought I would just be pregnant forever; never actually have the child.

There are about a million different thoughts going through my head. Sadness at the thought of missing out on labor. Nervousness about the possibility of surgery (I've never even sprained an ankle before). Certainty that there must be something I'm forgetting to research. Uncertainty: has it finally become too much to walk to work? Above all these though, is the one thought that comes to me strongly and regularly during the course of each day: my lord, I can't wait. I can't wait to meet him, to look into his eyes for the first time, to be his mother. I'm glad this thought trumps everything else, because it's helping me get past the details and just focus on that one important thing.

Ooh, is that a cramp?

A final bit: nicknames we've been using these last months:

*Milk-fed piglet

*Sweetmeat

*Chubba the Hut (after a recent ultrasound picture seemed to show an enormous set of cheeks and a weird, Jabba The Hut-like eye)

*Little Monkey

*Chen (won't try to explain the pronunciation; this is the German suffix that makes something a diminutive. It's basically like calling him "Little.")

*Scrumchkin (scrumptious munchkin)

Just a couple more weeks and we can use his real name...