my little guy

Ollie is three weeks old already. Today he weighed in at seven and a half pounds! He gained about a pound in a week and a half, and for a baby who was down to five eleven and who we had to feed (breast milk) with a dropper for an entire 24 hour period and gave us quite a scare, this feels like the happiest day on earth! Oliver is now acting like a newborn, instead of a lethargic early term baby - and even though it is difficult we are happy that he keeps us awake at night, cries to be nursed, and nurses for hours at a time (on again, off again). I have found that attachment parenting (or our version of it) works really well. He is never more than a few feet away from me and I carry him around frequently in a sling or moby wrap. I also love that he sleeps soundly in between Ron and I at night, I can't imagine putting him in a crib and most likely won't at all if we can help it.

What has been difficult is constantly nursing when I am totally famished - for all of you nursing moms, I don't know about you but I eat like four times more than when I was pregnant, so I feel constantly hungry. We are lucky to have great family and friends who have kept us nourished and the house well stocked with food the past few weeks. I constantly feel like I have to make a choice of feeding my self or Ollie. Often I get a cram a snack in before feeding or bark orders at Ron to get me something (I never thought I'd be sick of asking for things). Besides this, life is great, tired and sleep deprived, but great. We have a nice little routine down and have began to go out into the world a little bit. Trips to the co-op for groceries and a "party" at my sisters house on Sunday made our lives a little bit more adventurous. I could write for hours about little Ollie here, who is currently stirring next to me - letting me know it is yet again time to latch on. Until next time!
Jess and Ollie

PS - the blanket I made over the summer and I am rather proud of it. The inside is made of cotton sherpa - and so soft and snuggly.

Ollie Update - Week 2 and The Abridged Birth Story

Me and my sister, Ollie and Cora

I can say that the birth, besides being very surprising (four weeks early), was an incredibly intense yet empowering experience. I think I was dilating the whole day before and didn't know it, and had lost my mucus plug, but again didn't think anything of the discharge (it wasn't bloody or smell bad so no fuss right?). Around 4pm exactly two weeks ago I was watching a movie in the bedroom and I felt Oliver slide down in a strange way. A little pee came out (indeed it was urine not water breaking) and I couldn't stop - we called the midwife. She said take a warm bath and drink some Cranberry juice. By the time Ron was back from the store getting juice, I was having bad period like cramps. We were totally scared, called the midwife again. The cramps were getting worse and worse and I couldn't escape them, all I wanted was a little break to get an emotional grip on this whole thing - I looked at Ron at one point and said, "I'm in labor". I needed to admit it. We were in the living room, I was on hand and knees - moaning through contractions. Our midwife came in and indeed me being half naked and really into contractions - she was certain I was in labor. She said to us that "we're having a baby today! and all was well because I was a few days away from 36 weeks". I felt so relieved at that point, just to have someone else say it was okay, we were okay to birth at home. My mom showed up shortly after, I had moved back into the bathroom on the floor (it was nice and warm) still on hands and knees. My first thought was "I need to get to the bedroom, I can't have this baby on the bathroom floor". We went into the bedroom - there I rode out a few more contractions with Ron and our midwife doing counter pressure. At that point our second midwife arrived and my sister (and baby Cora). The contractions were intense and I had wished the birth ball was inflated (we only had half a birth kit together and I was waiting to blow up the ball until early Jan). I think I was in transition at this point - I can't recall getting to the bedroom and my thoughts were only, "I can't do this - it's too hard". Suddenly, I felt the need to push - it wasn't a physical feeling exactly, I can only describe that emotionally my body was telling me to push. The midwife checked me (for the first time and oh my god! it hurt, hurt, hurt) I can't imagine having to be checked frequently throughout. I had a small lip left - she suggested I could push around it while she held it back - too painful. I rode out a few more contractions instead. Over the next hour or so - I pushed in various positions, lunging, hands and knees, on the birthing stool (shaped like a big toilet seat), leaning against Ron. Pushing seemed to take forever, I found solace in watching my progress in a mirror (directing the mirror position while pushing - I was very aware of what was going on around me). My sister, mother, and Ron were doing a great job of telling me that I was doing well. I kept asking if this was all going smoothly - and that it was okay it was taking long. The midwives only said - your baby is the perfect size for you and it is taking as long as you need and that yes, it is all normal. Ollie's heart beat was great, despite being on the perineum for so long.

Pushing was by far the hardest thing I have ever done. It took all of my strength both physically and emotionally to get him out. The thing about pushing is, for the most part, you have control over how hard and long you push. I would only give on big push and then need a rest, finally the midwives said that they were thinking about a small cut - I screamed "no!" and shortly after I pushed little Oliver out. I think it was just the motivation I needed to give full quality pushes - I didn't want to be cut - emotionally it would have been too hard for me to deal with. But the exact motivation I needed to push his head out. The body seemed to slide right out. Oliver was here - at 9:58 pm 6lbs 6oz. It took about 6 hours of active labor and two pushing. Not too bad.
And today, after two weeks of nursing a lethargic pre term baby, who is still developing his suckling ability, and one full day of dropper feeding and breast pumping (day 3 I believe). We've established a nice nursing routine and he is almost back up to his birth weight. It was been a wild, intense, and emotional experience, but I wouldn't have expected anything less from my son.