And Then There Were Four

In case you hadn't heard, on Thanksgiving (November 28) at 10:53pm, we officially welcomed our son, Jasper Whitfield, into the family.

We hadn't made big plans for Thanksgiving -- honestly, since Lo was 3 weeks early, I'd spent the previous 2.5 weeks feeling like I was living on borrowed time -- (Bukka) Ben came over, and we had a bacon-wrapped turkey breast and some sides. I'd done most of the prep-work the day before and had made notes as to how things should be cooked (temp, time, when to go in the oven relative to the turkey) just in case.  Thanksgiving morning, I woke up and had some semi-regular contractions.  I was excited ... and also a little ambivalent -- now that it was Thanksgiving, I wanted to enjoy my dinner, goshdurnit.  I downloaded a free contraction-timer app (there's an app for everything!) and started keeping track.  They were about 15min. apart at that time.  That continued for a few hours and then stopped.  Yay, I thought -- I'll get Thanksgiving dinner, and then we can have a baby on Friday.  That'll be perfect.

As it was, I'd finished my last shift of work -- and boy was it a fine fare-thee-well-for-a-while kind of shift! -- on Monday the 25th (through Tuesday morning) and wasn't scheduled again until December 27.  This meant that I was technically on maternity leave -- the sooner this little Dude-ling decided to join us, the more time I'd get with him before starting back up with "regular life." Since I'd had a good rest on Tuesday and had time to prep on Wednesday, anytime after the Thanksgiving meal would work out pretty well...

So, anyway, back to Thanksgiving.  The contractions started up again and seemed stronger, so I asked Z if he wanted to see if Ben would come over earlier ... just in case. By the time Ben arrived, the contractions had stopped again.  I basket-weaved the turkey with bacon and put the ginger-apple pie in the oven.  And then the contractions started again, and I put my feet up and put the Rutter boys to work chopping, and cleaning, and generally sous-cheffing.  We started dinner at around 6:00-ish.  Zac piled his plate so high ("Then I won't need seconds," he said).  At 7:00-ish, Zac wondered aloud if he should put on a pot of coffee ... as the contractions had started up again and were getting closer together and much more uncomfortable, I tried to shoot him a meaningful look as I said, "Yes, make coffee." (Translation: "It's going to be a long night, and you've just had a ton of tryptophan...")  Zac and his brother chatted a bit, and I retired to the bedroom to call my OB just in case.  As I relayed to her my symptoms and reminded her of Lorraina's relatively rapid arrival, she said that we should head in and get checked out just in case.

Zac walked into the bedroom as I was getting off the phone.  I informed him that we needed to go to the hospital. We hugged Lorraina, and I heaved myself into the Green Machine. I begged Zac to avoid the bumpy roads.

We arrived at the hospital at 8:00-ish, and Zac asked if I wanted a wheelchair -- because it's about four bajillion miles from the underground garage to the L&D ward. (OK, it's not that far, but it's a bit of a hike through the buildings and up slow-moving elevators.) I obstinately refused, as is my wont. We got checked into a lovely, large room that would have had a view except that the lights were on in the room, and it was dark outside. There was a large clock on the wall. (Already, Fletcher Allen was miles ahead of Lenox Hill! I still find it hard to believe that there was no clock in the delivery room and I was "timing" my contractions with Lo by the Weather Channel "Weather on the 8's" .... Seriously.) The resident came in, introduced herself, and then got personal.  I was 7cm dilated. It was go-time.  My OB arrived. It was go-time ... oh, and by the way, as things were progressing so rapidly, there might be no time for an epidural.  Also, there were fewer anesthesia teams available for the epidural ... and they were in the OR.  It was a holiday, after all.

WHAT!?

I almost cried.  Heck, there's no "almost" ... I'm pretty sure I cried. I whined. And then I began screaming. By the love of all that is holy, please, please let me have drugs.  The delivery team kept telling me that I was doing a good job, and that I was "being amazing," and there was one point where I said, "I don't want to be amazing. I just want it not to hurt anymore." After my water finally broke, the anesthesia team was able to come in and give me the epidural (praise the Powers That Be!).  The anesthesiologist was very nice, but she went over the possible complications SO SLOWLY that I thought I was going to die. Or scream. Or die screaming. I was so far beyond being ladylike. I was a primal beast being tossed about on a sea of knives. I was not present. There was no Amanda, only Zuul.   I don't remember what exactly she said, but I remember when she said, "Your husband can sign the consent form." And I laid my head down on the pillow and cried, "YES. PLEASE." (Well, I probably said please. I'm usually the polite type.  I do recall apologizing for all the yelling and screaming and unladylike behavior in between my Zuul-times.)  Eventually the epidural went in (they kept telling me to relax my shoulders. Really. RELAX. Yeah. That's why I want the drugs. TO RELAX. There is no relaxing with this maelstrom of pain, my dudes. No relaxing. I. AM. NOT. CHILLAXED.), and there was mild tingliness and then peace.

I had about ten minutes before it was go-time again.  And once again, my baby got halfway out and then changed his mind, and his heart rate dropped. And it was time for a vacuum-assist. Again. (Zac says that he's going to assail the kids with a dustbuster when they don't want to get up and go to school in the mornings, "I guess you need a vacuum to get you out ... just like when you were born!") And then there were three Rutters in the room. And then he cried out, announcing his arrival.

Welcome to the world, welcome to the family, Little Man. 

Jasper Whitfield, 13 hours old

With Love,  -A

Stillness

This morning Lorraina woke up just before dawn. I changed her into a dry diaper and brought her into our room for a little "Snooze-Snuggle." Sometimes this works to buy another hour or two, sometimes it works not one whit. This morning, I got about 30min of extra shut-eye. (Although, I'll admit shut eye next to a toddler is not close to actual sleep. It's more of a vague mixture of "happy to be under the covers" and "did she move? is she awake? why is the cat yowling now?" and "live in the moment, Rutter, they're only this little once."  So, only a little relaxing.  But more relaxing than making breakfast while simultaneously chasing a toddler around the house ... so ....  I digress.)

Anyway, this morning had a touch of magical serenity.  Lo was cuddled up with her head between my shoulder and chest, her arm wrapped around my neck and her small fingers gently grasping my hair, her soft breaths just loud enough for me to hear.  Zac was asleep on the other side of the bed.  The dark sheets which pass for curtains were letting only the smallest sliver of pre-dawn silver-grey light into the room.  The Sprout was slowly moving about.  It was as if in those scant moments, everything that mattered to me was right there and at peace.  I was overcome by a feeling of quiet joy.  I lightly hugged Lorraina closer to me ... and she murmured, "Mama."  And all was right with the world for another ten minutes or so.

Love and Peace,
-A-

Learning to speak "Toddler"

So ... time flies when you're parenting a toddler, working various part-time jobs, and trying to figure out your way in a new city.  It's hard to believe that it's been over a year since we've moved to Burlington ... and now we're most certainly the parents of a toddler.

In the past few months, Lorraina has gone from tentative steps and vague quasi-language to running, climbing, dancing, and creating her own little dialect.  Examples of her "Lo-speak" include:
                       *"BukkaBaa" = Uncle Ben
                       *"Zhaaa" = Jack
                       *"Way!" = Wesley
           ..and my current personal favorite,
                       *"Bee-oh-baa-bay" = spider (made with accompanying motions for 'ItsyBitsySpider')

In the last week or so, she's picked up "No," "Please" ("pwee"), and "Thank you" ("aan oo").  Of course, the "no" is pretty darn clear and the rest are a bit mangled.

She's got some awesome animal noises, even if her cow-moo and elephant trumpet are just a bit too high-pitched.  We went to the county fair and she had a great time "baa"ing at the sheep and making "eee-aaww" noises at a few donkeys.

She uses some sign-language, too.  Her favorites are "milk" (and what I can only assume is "MILK!" when its done emphatically with both hands), "more," and one that she seems to have made up all on her own, "bacon" (pats head).  This one is (I believe) from an evening where she decided that bacon, in addition to being delicious, could also be worn as a hat.  We don't wear bacon-hats here at home, and she doesn't watch a lot of tv (mostly Red Sox baseball) ... so I have zero idea from whence this fascinating nugget of toddler-linguistics evolved. 

It's quite incredible to watch her assert her self-hood and independence ... although, I must admit that it's often frustrating as well.  Is that parenthood? Trying to let them become the best "them" they can ... without harming themselves or others?  *sigh*  Tough stuff.  (And it'll only get tougher, if the current trajectory is to be believed.)

And in other news, this particular branch of the Rutter family is embiggening once more: the newest addition, the Sprout, is due November 30.  Now, far be it from me to count on due dates, seeing on how the last one went down (I had plans, dagnabbit!), so when folks ask I just tell them 'Winter' or 'end of November-ish.'   We're very excited about things (Zac was excited first, I was ... wearing normal non-elastic clothes! getting settled into a new life! not quite ready, yet! ... but now I am enjoying the little kicks, jumping-jacks and squirmles and looking forward to meeting our little guy.) ... Lorraina likes saying that there's a "bay-bee" in my bump, but she has NO IDEA what's going to happen.  How could she?  Neither do we.  It'll be a wave of chaos and love and we'll ride it: sometimes gracefully and joyfully, sometimes barely holding on, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut as we are propelled onward into the future.

Until next time,
Love,
A&Z&L

Our cute little Monkey at 19 months.

LoLo says 'Wheee!'

Previously on The Embiggening...

So, it's been a while since we've updated this blog.  It's been on my "to-do" list for, oh, at least seven months or so.  I just keep finding other things to do: work, sleep, laundry (so much laundry!), try to watch TV with Z and fall asleep on the couch.... Lo is 14 months old today and watching March Madness with Z and her Uncle Ben.  I imagine it must be soothing to hear the squeak of sneakers on wood, as that's a lot of what she heard in her first few months.

I had a few half-written posts, so I'll paste the interesting bits here:

From September 2012:

In the past few weeks, Lorraina has showed us how unprepared we are for a mobile baby.  She's decided that now that she has two teeth and an expanded baby vocabulary (bway-bway! <<wookie noise>>, dadadada, heyheyhey, aiaiai, <<raspberry noise>>, and more), she's off to explore the world.  She started with a nice belly-down army-crawl which was pretty easy to corral.  Now she's actually crawling  ... most frequently toward things that are Not For Babies (maple leaves, pet hair on the floor, and electrical cords for starters).  Last week she learned about gravity by leaping off the bed (she's fine, we felt like jerks).

It's amazing to watch her become, as Zac says, "a little people." She's showing more and more of her personality every day.  She's such a (generally) happy, outgoing baby.  She goes for walks with Zac in the backpack carrier and "collects people" -- she flashes her grin and squeals at folks until they smile back.  She's been pretty well received in Burlington.  She loved spending the end of summer in a back yard -- she "helped" by ripping the grass out.  Perhaps one day she'll be a helpful little garden weeder?  We can only hope.   As we had joked when she was born, she is an impatient little Monkey.  She progresses from: "hmm, perhaps I am a little hungry" to "Oh yeah, I'm hungry!" to "HUNGRY LADY IS HANGRY!!" to "WHY IS THERE NOT FOOD IN MY MOUTH RIGHT NOW? I'M FREAKING OUT! WHERE IS MY PUREED SQUASH?!!" in about 38 seconds flat.  My mom reports that I was much the same.  Oh, dear.  Well, if she gets "hangry" and "impatient" and "reactive" from me, perhaps she'll get "sporty" and "confident" and "self assured" from Zac.

From December 2012:

My mother likes to tell the story of how I got into kindergarten a year early (or possibly just on time, depending on who you ask).  I was born in the end of November and the entrance cut off was a September birthday.  My mother thought that it was ridiculous. Also, after being a stay-at-home-mom for five years, I think that she was ready for me to be out of the house....  Anyway, the big day came and the nuns wanted to test my readiness for kindergarten.  I passed the more intellectual tests, but when it came to motor skills, I had a few areas that needed improvement, specifically, I couldn't draw an open cross and I couldn't skip. 

Years later as an adult, my lack of these skills comes as no surprise -- I'm terrible at drawing (you should see my bizarre square-ish representation of the heart and its chambers) and I'm not that sporty. 

I would imagine that it never occurred to my mother that one might have to teach skipping to a child, so when the school system brought my lack of learned motor skills to her attention, I was given intensive "skipping lessons" by her and my aunt. I learned. I went to kindergarten "early."  All was well with the world.

These thoughts crossed my mind late last week when I was reading a set of "milestones" for Lorraina's age (11 months! when did my baby get to be 11 months old!?). Of course, every milestone chart has a little statement on it that says something like, "These milestones are just guidelines. Each child will develop at his or her own pace" so that parents don't freak out, I suppose. I was scanning the milestones, checking things off my little parent checklist (yep, she crawls like a superstar, yep, she creeps around using furniture, yep, she grabs things and points at things and nods and and and) when I noticed "clapping" listed. Clapping? no, she doesn't clap ... but we never thought to teach her clapping.  Also, what? We were supposed to be working on 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' and 'Pattycake'?! 

And back to the present:

Zac did some intensive "clap classes" with Lorraina, and now she claps like a champ. He also taught her "wave bye bye" and "high-five."  Looking back, I realize that I haven't heard the "wookie" noise in a while.  I can't even pinpoint when it stopped... like I can't pinpoint when exactly she went from "lovable lump" to "little person with ideas of her own."

We're still kind of working on "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and Z and I disagree on the lyrics to 'Pattycake,' but despite our lack of experience, Lo appears to be thriving.  She's walking (and trying to run), she's talking a little, she helps us dress and undress her (and just today, I caught her trying to undress herself. Oh dear.), she's singing and dancing.  Dancing! My goodness, she is possessed by music sometimes: she'll be sitting and suddenly she nods her head, does a shoulder shake, or (my favorite), while crawling, wiggles her hips and kicks out her legs to the beat.  Watching her be-bop around fills me with such joy.

Lo said her first words (as in the first words that everyone would agree were real words and were used in appropriate context -- I think she said some words before this, but I'm her mom and I have a passing fluency in 'LoLoSpeak.') at ~13.5 months.  She said "BuhBye" while waving her hand. She sounded like a Sugarbaker sister from Designing Women.  She has a few other words (Mama, Daddy, this, that) and a lot of expressive chirps and gestures ... and a whole vocabulary of fart-sounds/raspberries.  Fantastic. She is definitely our kid.

Love to all,
A/Z/L