Italian Bread

When you came to my apartment to take me on our first official date 11 years ago, you greeted me with one hand behind your back.

But instead of flowers, you handed me a long loaf of sweet Italian bread. You apologized for it not being flowers and explained that being around flower stands makes you uneasy--they being so foreign and feminine, and you being so...man's man.

Do you know I kept the paper wrapping from that loaf in my scrap-booking file?


We road the BART to a mall in San Francisco where I hinted that I wanted some Haagen Dazs so that you could do the chivalrous thing and buy me some. But you said something to the effect that ice cream is junk food and no one needs the overpriced, extra calories. Wrong thing to say to a young woman susceptible to the reigning cultural aesthetics of being too thin!


And then I hinted that you could buy me some nice token of your affection, nothing expensive, but something meaningful. You had no idea what to get and we spent the rest of the time looking around the cheap jewelry kiosks. I found something I liked, but by that time, the stands were closing. We went back empty handed.

You walked me to my apartment and I expected a lingering goodbye. Instead you said, "Bye", and turned right around and left! How abrupt. How sudden. How rude!


I guess first dates are not the best indicators of the future of a relationship. Because that was a pretty disappointing first date! You didn't do the right things, say the right things, or buy me the right things.


But I guess all those gestures don't matter all that much, in light of deeper abiding things--like true affection, admiration, appreciation, and the sense that I'm more myself when I'm with you than when I'm not.


And I guess that's why the last 7 years of marriage have easily been the best 7 years of my life. Happy Anniversary, my once awkward guy with a loaf of sweet Italian bread.

12--Tuesday

Last night we experimented with giving you one bottle at night so I could get a longer period of sleep.

I think it worked pretty well. Your latch wasn't that great when I fed you after the bottle, so it did spoil you a little bit. But it was worth the 5 hours I got!

In other news, we gave you your first bath and hair wash today. Crazy to think that you still had stuff in your hair from the womb! But not anymore thanks to Johnson and Johnson.

11--Monday

Today you had us begging for mercy.

For 10 hours straight you would not sleep for more than 10 minutes at a time! We were so worried that something was seriously wrong with you, but your temperature was fine.

Was it overheating due to the heatwave? Was it the Chinese herbal stuff that I've been taking? Was it just normal newborn fussiness?

Definitely one of the worst days ever!

10--Sunday

Last night we tried having you sleep with us in a basket in our bed.

It turned out to be more convenient to soothe you and nurse you that way. I think we'll start doing this from now on. Wonder if this will turn into a lifetime of sleeping in our bed until you're a teenager?!

Gratuitous photo that has nothing to do with the above. Sorry about the Urkel pants little guy!

9--Saturday

Not much to report today, just more of the same.

We've discovered that you love sleeping on your tummy so we let you take naps that way. I know the medical/babycare community would be horrified because of the risk of SIDS, but what can I say? Tummy sleep is just so much better!

8--Friday

Happy 1 week birthday Judah!

I can't believe your dad and I survived! We're still alive. And more importantly, we've managed to keep YOU alive! Praise the Lord and thank you Jesus. Now, if only his good mercy would extend into another week, we can experiment with substituting 1 bottle feeding per day and mom can get more than 2 hours of sleep at a time!


Days and nights blur together and I feel like just a glorified milk dispenser. The only thing I live for are your little "reflexive" smiles. I know they're not "social smiles" yet, but I melt when I see them anyway.


Dad loves to give you tummy time and you seem to like it too. You can already turn your head from one side to the other and you kick up a storm, like you're trying to move forward. What an athlete!

7--Thursday

Today you had your first visit to the pediatrician.


We love her. She's the nicest, warmest, sweetest doctor your mom has ever met. Your mom is scheming of a way to also be her patient somehow, hmmm....

She said your jaundice is all but gone (yay!) and everything else checks out great. You even weighed EXACTLY what your birth weight was today. It's like you knew what was coming and decided to impress the doc.

Mom and dad are still exhausted, but there's a faint light at the end--it's called "substituting one feeding with a bottle." Can't wait to introduce a bottle to you so I can get more than 2 hours of sleep at a time! Wonder when I can start?

6--Wednesday

You've become Mr. Crankypants, General Fustard, and all those other fussy names.


The worst is when you're hungry and have gas at the same time. I try to feed you but you're screaming from the gas. I try to burp you but you're screaming to eat. And sometimes you just plain reject the breast (just the right one) even though you're starving. What's up with that?!

The only upside to your crankiness is watching your dad tirelessly attend to you. He's so patient and gentle (and desperate), trying to comfort you for hours. One day I hope you learn to appreciate what a great dad you have.

5--Tuesday

Has it only been one day since yesterday?

It feels like it's been at least 2 long days. I guess, with a newborn, you really feel ALL 24 hours of the day!

You've gotten more fussy and harder to put to sleep. Mostly it's due to gas, but there's also the "unknown" component. Your parents are exhausted.

Today, Auntie Em visited you from NY and brought you a little friend!


Also, dad can't stop taking pics of you. You must think your dad is a small silver rectangle with a flashing light.

4--Monday

Today we took you home from the hospital because you passed your billirubin test! I felt overjoyed. What a relief not to have to continue that horrible light therapy!


You're only 3 days old and you're already like a "real" baby, instead of a newborn. Your cord stump fell out today and you nurse like a champ (which means you pee and poop like a champ too).

3--Sunday

Today you were in the NICU for 24 hours, starting at 11 in the morning. The light treatment was supposed to help breakdown the billirubin in your body, which causes jaundice.

It was heartbreaking to not be able to hold you and comfort you, but I'm thankful I could take you out of that damn plastic cage to breastfeed. Even so, when the doctor first told me you had to do this therapy, I cried, despite my best efforts not to, for the first time in over 3 years (not counting sappy movies of course).

When we got to the NICU, we saw lots of seriously preemie babies, and I had to remember to be more grateful.

2--Saturday

Your second day was a blur of happy "skin-to-skin" sleep. You slept a lot and we slept a lot.


I really hated how nurses would come in and disturb your sleep every 2 hours, poking and prodding you with stethoscopes and thermometers. Some nurses were gentle, but some were rough and callous. I felt murderous rage at one nurse in particular who stripped you naked, left you lying there shivering and screaming as she worked at a snail's pace.

But if I thought that was bad, boy, was I not prepared for the trauma of the next day!

1--Friday

You were born on Friday the 13th around 3 in the morning.

Labor was excruciating, mostly because the contractions kept coming so close together, but it was thankfully short. Just 3 and a half hours from active labor to popping you out! 30 minutes of pushing and you slipped out like a perfect, gooey, mucousy jelly fish (with poop on your heels!).

The doctor immediately cleared your airways and put you on my chest. I was in shock. This was inside of me?! And of course, I was in love.

As much as I never want to leave you, one day I'm going to "lose" my baby. You grow and change so much the first year, I want to take at least one picture of you a day--it's all I can do to "keep" you with me.

Happy Dueday

Happy Dueday Judah.

I wish it were your BIRTHday, but I guess you and the womb had other plans. Sigh.

These last 3 or 4 days have definitely seen a hugely disproportionate increase in discomfort. It's like the body hits the 40th week and everything drops. I used to think the bladder was squished, but now it's ridiculous. I'm running to the bathroom like a madwoman every 30 minutes, only to have so little come out. And everything generally hurts down there, like having perpetual mild menstrual cramps.

But I'm most worried that you're not getting enough nutrition as my placenta gets depleted. And that I might have to get induced (which probably means my hope for an epidural-free delivery will be gone).

My doula says I should take Evening Primrose Oil and get acupuncture to coax you out. Other people say I should take long walks. At this point, I'm game to try anything!

Women in High Places

Elena Kagan will be the 4th woman to be appointed to the Supreme Court.

Apparently, it's significant that she's a woman. But I'm not entirely sure why.

Is her appointment supposed to symbolize some kind of "equality" or advancement of women in society? Is it supposed to signal to little girls everywhere--you too can aspire to the highest pinnacle of worldly achievement?


I suppose those messages are being sent by Kagan's ascension to the high court. But I also hear another message that isn't quite so "empowering". I hear--If you want to climb the ranks to the top, you have to give up on healthy relationships (and a family in particular)--especially if you're a woman. At least that seems to be how it is in the legal field.

The legal profession has seen required work hours climbing ever higher for decades, crowding out any opportunity for legal careerists to do anything other than work and take care of their hygiene and health (which too many unfortunately forgo).

I think it's telling and chilling that the only women justices who've ever had families were born in the early 30's--when times were slower-paced. Men, however, still benefit from the bias of traditional gender roles within the family. And being an absentee father is and has always been more acceptable than an absentee mother.

What Kagan and Sotomayor (both unmarried and childless) represent to me is The Choice. The Fork in the Road. In the legal profession, you can climb higher, or you can have a family.

But cheer up ladies, at least you have a choice! (spoken with only mild sarcasm intended)

Pardon me while I fume

I don't rant often, but this is really galling and I just have to get it off my chest.

JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING IS GENETIC DOES NOT MEAN IT IS AUTOMATICALLY ETHICALLY NEUTRAL.

Let me say it again--Just because you're "born that way" doesn't necessarily mean it's okay to ACT that way.

While many genetic traits are ethically neutral--the color of your skin, hair, height, etc, many other genetically linked traits are not--violence, aggression, antisocial behavior, etc.

If a violent sociopath says "I'm genetically predisposed to raping kids" guess what? He would probably be right! But that does NOT mean we shouldn't condemn such behavior.

"But it's genetic" is NOT an automatic ethical defense.

Everything But the Baby

I'm now 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced.

I've been feeling Braxton-Hicks contractions for days and the baby has dropped lower allowing me more room to eat (yay!) but less room for the bladder (boo!).

Any day now.

During these days of anticipation, I live in a world of paradox. I'm ready and I'm not ready. I'm excited but I'm terrified. I hope for the best, but try to steel myself for the worst. I sort of know what to expect, and yet it seems all so very very unreal.

You would think I would've been reconciled to the idea of having a kid by now. But I still wake up in the middle of the night, terrified--WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?! A human. A person. A kid. We're going to be PARENTS? WHAT? HOW? WHAT? And yes, that is the exact extent of the coherence of my thoughts.

Reading up on birth and baby care only heightens my sense of disorientation. Everything DEPENDS. Your labor may last 2 hours, but it may last 20. Your labor may be excruciating, or it may not be so painful. Getting an epidural might help a lot, or it might really slow things down.

As for your baby, he may be a fussy guy or really calm. He may be a champion breastfeeder, or a lazy eater. Or, he may be that most dreaded of all things--a colicky baby!

Every labor is different. And every baby is different. Great.

For a person who likes to be in control and anticipate everything, this is NOT a comfortable situation to be in.

But I have gotten ready what I could. Look at all the things waiting for you when you come out Judah!

Here's your changing table with the plushest pad and softest cover ever. I can't stop running my hand over its delicious softness. You're gonna love those diaper changes.


And here's your bassinet with a nice firm pad and organic cotton fitted sheet. You can thank Uncle Amazon for recommending all these great items.


And here's your going home outfit and the softest, cushiest baby blanket ever from your only and thus bound to be favorite Aunt.


You'll love going home in your infant car-seat insert--also the softest, plushest thing I've ever felt up.


You have so many hand-me-down clothes, especially from your future-bud Isaac. But I'm most excited to dress you in your Cal onesie this Fall. Now that USC's banned, maybe your favorite team, the Bears (that's right, you don't have a choice) have a chance at the Rose Bowl!


And I'm really excited about putting this little jacket on you cuz your dad has the exact same one which he wears Every Single Day. All I need now is to get you light grey sweatpants with elastic on the bottom (yeah, your dad is stuck in the late 80's) and the mini-me uniform will be complete.


And you know, if you're in our family, you always wear a sun hat.

The Home Stretchhhhhhhhhhh

After 2 weeks of maternity leave, I've pretty much gotten all the baby gear ready.

I'm not going to lie, it was/is awesome. Everyday was like Christmas--getting all these packages from Amazon, Target, Walmart, Diapers.com, etc. The UPS guy is like part of the family now, we see him so often.

Here's a changing table I made, which matches his bassinet (not pictured).



Nesting is fun, but you know what's not so fun? Being a big fat house. As I tell the spouse everyday--I feel so fat, fat, fatty, fat. Because I am. My rib cage has expanded a lot, my limbs are swollen with bloat, and of course, the ol' belly is looking like a huge ripe tomato. And the spouse says, without guile or much wisdom--"Yeah, you are much bigger, everywhere, not just your belly." Ugh. Honesty is over-rated.

When I lumber around the house, I seriously feel like Shrek, just less green.

Here's me in all my 9.5 month glory. Probably, the last belly pic I'll take until D-Day!


And I am so ready. Okay baby, you can come now!

Is that me?!

OMG--I went on this website and got a little shock--this chick looks like me! How'd they get my picture?! Maybe I have a long lost twin out there somewhere...

You can see the website here.


Then I called the hubby over to look at it and he flipped out too.

The Upside of Masochism

A lot of things in life are disappointing once you actually get them. After fervent anticipation, the actual experience just never quite lives up to the hype. (And yes, that's what I plan to tell my future teenagers about the birds and the bees).

But maternity leave is NOT one of those things. The last few days I've been at home, nesting like a crazy woman, being busier than ever, but also being happier than ever.

Despite all the chores and baby prep--re-arranging furniture, organizing onesies by size, taking hospital tours, reading about colic and indigestion, etc. etc., I can only describe my state of being as...blissful.

I'm pretty sure it's all due to the absence of corporate work. I had no idea what a mental and emotional tax my work was until it went away.

It's like I'm living out that old adage--Why do I hit myself with a hammer all day? Cuz it feels so good when I stop.

It really does. It feels. So. Good.

Freedom...sigh

If this is the day I've been waiting for for nearly 9 months, why do I feel so meh about it?

Didn't I hunger, pine, and groan for this blessed day--my last day of work before starting my maternity leave?

Then why do I feel exhausted, apathetic, and even stressed out now?

Because of The List. The long long loooooong list of chores, errands, and baby prep I've been accruing in my head.

Such a massive debt of "to-do's" have accumulated that my brain feels like it's going to hemorrhage. The list is so long and ponderous I can't even begin to record it onto paper. It's just a dark, fuzzy, shadow in my brain--menacing as distant thunderclouds.

All I can think of is--this baby BETTER not come early!

I'm a horrible mother...

...to my office plant.


I was so happy to leave the office for the 4th of July long-weekend that I neglected to water my already saggy plant. So it's no wonder that I came in today and faced this half-dead weed.

But the worst part is, I didn't even water it this morning (just kept forgetting) UNTIL my co-worker came in and gasped in horror, grabbed a nearby water bottle, and doused it quickly as if it were on fire.

I hope this is not an indication that I'll be one of those parents who forget to feed their kids--didn't I feed you yesterday?

Our Lion Judah

So...we decided to name the baby.......(drum roll please)........

Judah!

One day the spouse and I were throwing out Biblical name possibilities, Abraham, David, Zebediah (uh, no way), Isaiah, etc, and then he said, "Judah?"

And we both felt something lock into place.

We like that it's one of those unique names (does anyone know a Judah?) that doesn't sound like it's going WAY out of its way to be unique. And it's a strong name--the tribe of Judah carries the bloodline of the Kings of Israel, including THE King of Israel, Christ himself, the Lion of Judah.

And, just to add a dash of multicultural superstitious fate--the baby will be born a Leo in the Year of the Tiger. If that doesn't scream, big, power-cat, I don't know what does.

So today, my awesome friend extraordinaire, Peg, threw me a lion-safari-themed baby shower, replete with little animals everywhere.


There were the lip-smacking Lion of Judah cupcakes from Teacakes.


And the adorable jungle-animal sugar-cookies from Winnie--almost too cute to eat.


Down to the little animal-shaped pasta in the pen holders!


Some scenes from the crime:

Marianne is scandalized that baby Sydney's not wearing any pants--Don't they teach decency in nursery anymore?!


Marianne asks Mere if she's scandalized by pant-less infants and Mere's like--well, it depends...


An adorable diaper cake courtesy of Mere and Rachel. Baby Sydney is a girl after my own heart--loves shoes!


Peg pretends she didn't know I was pregnant until today.


Thanks ladies for celebrating the coming of our little lion with me!

My Everloving Spouse

Me: Doulas are supposed to help the mom during birth. They massage you and stuff.

Spouse: That's nice. I'm so sore from sitting in front of the computer all day. Maybe I can have your doula massage me too, you know, while you're in labor.

Me: *exasperated look*

Speaking of which, I've been thinking and learning all about labor and delivery lately, now that the big day is fast approaching.

Of course it goes without saying that the whole ordeal freaks me out. Mostly, I can't believe how much my, um "skin" will have to stretch to accommodate the, uh, yeah, let's leave it at that.

How is that humanly possible?

And yet, millions of women have done it for millions of years, yeah, yeah. So I've been told. That seems to be the number one thing people like to say to comfort a first-time-freaked-out 8 month preggo. And it's a little comforting.

Until you also realize that millions of women for millions of years have been experiencing excruciating pain during the whole process too. And that's the crux for me--the pain.

So now I'm devoting much of my birth prep to pain management--breathing techniques, scents to smell, soothing music (think 8-hour playlist of Enya), acupressure, whatever it takes. I'm on a mission to gain zen-like mastery over the ultimate discomfort. Okay, maybe not zen-like, but at least some level of tolerance that doesn't make me want to reach out and hurt someone. Poor spouse.

Maybe, in the end, I'll even let him borrow my doula...in between contractions.

Pwnage #5: Oh maternity leave, how I long for you

It started Thursday. I thought I could go to Bible study in the evening, but just as I was leaving the office at 5:20pm the client sent us the draft. Perfect timing! (for ruining my plans).

I worked until 10:30 that night on the draft. The funny thing is, all throughout the day, I was forecasting to the spouse whether or not I could make it to the Bible study. The morning started with a 90% chance No :-(. Then around 4pm I realized my workload was lighter than I thought and it became 90% Yes :-)! And then at 5:20, it was 100% No. I'm more volatile than the Dow! Heck, than the market of the least stable country out there!--Greece?

Friday, I worked from 8am to 11pm.

Saturday, I ran errands all day, including taking a 7 hour birthing class. Fun. (That's sarcasm).

Sunday, I unexpectedly worked all day (after church) until 10pm. Key word being "unexpectedly."

All these surprise attacks have inspired me to write this haiku:

Little flashing light

On my blackberry causes

Me fear and nausea

Celebrity Celebrity Dopplegangers

It just struck me today how much Natalie Portman looks like Giada de Laurentis. They're both petite, with a rather large head to body ratio, and have the same facial bone structure. To wit:



If Giada were exciting enough to have a TV movie made of her life, Natalie should totally play it--Not Without My Lemon Zest, The Giada de Laurentis Story.

Incidentally, I'm always delighted to come across a pic of Ms. Portman. I just love her and I love seeing her sartorial choices.

Natalie--if you're reading this, I love you girl! Let's hang out sometime. You, me and Reese.