lamenting

The return to work was as I expected -- dreadful. It was the hardest week I may have ever had, emotionally. I'm so conflicted -- how am I supposed to care about anything else besides my family now? Can everyone at work tell my heart's not in it? Do I look like the faker I feel like? The first day was BAD. I had to go home at lunch just to give her kisses. The second day was worse, because I now knew how bad it REALLY was. Jay had to bring her up for lunch, and I cried when they left. I knew I would miss both Jay AND Maura. What I didn't expect was how much missing them both would control my mind. During the day I'm overhwelmed with missing Maura and during the night I'm overhwelmed with missing Jay. We've basically get 5 minutes together as a family in the evenings once I get home from work before he has to rush off to work himself.

It's not yet about feeling like I'm missing some kind of milestones by being at work -- her first time rolling over and her first words are a ways off -- but I just feel like doing anything other than being with them is a total waste of time. It's hard to reconcile that I am choosing to be at work rather than be with her. But I need to cut myself some slack, I think. I'm not choosing it because its what I'd prefer, I'm choosing it because its the best way to provide for that family I love so much. I knew it would be hard, and I can't change the work situation, so I know I need to let it go. I'm really struggling though. Even though I'm well aware that I should only worry about the things I can actually change, the things I can't still make me very sad.

All in all though, the one to come out unscathed was Maura, and that's what matters the most. Jay did great with her, and although he's tired, he's adjusting well, too. It's kind of a sweet routine -- I put her down to bed around 8:30 p.m., she gets up when he gets home from work at midnight and he feeds her. She gets up again usually around 4 a.m. for another feeding that he handles, and then she's up again around 7 a.m. At the 7 a.m. feeding, he takes her out onto the sofa and they both fall asleep with her on his chest. It's heartbreakingly sweet. She loves it, he loves it, and it's nice for me to be able to get some solid sleep before a long day at work. This weekend, I got up and did the night feedings so Jay could have a break and sleep. And I got to get up with her in the morning and sleep with her on my chest. It's an exhilarating feeling, warm and cushy and magic. To feel her chest rising and falling against my chest is a feeling I know I won't get to experience forever, so I take full advantage. I even sneak her on to my chest to sleep when she should probably be put in her crib, but I don't care. I'll never get these moments back and I'm going to get them whenever I can.

The second week is off to an OK start, mainly because I had off work yesterday. We had a great weekend of visiting with my friend Amy and her baby girl and running errands and cleaning. And then Keegan came into town late Sunday night around 11 p.m. from the Buddhist monastery to visit with us and Maura. We had a wonderful day together yesterday, and I took him back to the bus station at 2 a.m. today to return to his life there. He's doing FANTASTIC, and is loving the experience. It was so good to see him, my little brother that I used to baby so much. I couldn't resist it even now that I have my own child; I had to buy him some jeans and food and offer to get him new underwear and toothbrushes. He, of course, knows how to appease me, and let me do it.

Another big work event is on the horizon, and I have to work this Saturday to prepare for it, which makes me very sad. Remember the 12 hour day I had when I was 7 months pregnant? We're trying not to repeat that.

Duty calls . . .until next time,

some new views . . .

I can't even begin to express how sad I am that I have to go back to work on Monday. Jay will be home with her during the day, and I know that's amazing and reassuring, but I can hardly imagine leaving her for a whole day. It's so terrible to think about, I can't even write about it . . .

Maura is doing AMAZING; at her doctor's appointment last Thursday she was 7 lbs. 11 oz., which makes her feel like a TANK to us. She's still only in the 10th percentile, so who knows, we may have a skinny girl on our hands (not too skinny, we like girls with meat on their bones. With me as her mother I'm still not sure how she'll get away with not having some T & A).

Dare I say it has gotten easier to care for her? She doesn't sleep much, during the day or night, and we've yet to establish a routine, but we've gotten used to it. She's feeding a bit more regularly, and finally off the special preemie formula, but sleeping is tough. She doesn't nap, and if she does on the off chance, its in the evening approaching bedtime. And at night, we're lucky to get 3 hours of solid sleep. The doctor thinks its all related to the IUGR; we may never know what parts of her failed to fully develop, so she may be a bit behind for a while in getting her systems regulated. Although when she is alert, she recognizes voices, turns her head, grabs toys, and is even trying to hold her head upright. Developmentally, she is up to speed, but her internal systems are a bit haywire. I have full confidence it will sort itself out when she's good and ready.

Last week was my first week alone with her all day and night while Jay was at work, and it took a while to get the hang of things, but I did it. I just buckled down and gave myself a pep talk and said, "Listen, I am her mother. I can do this." So we went to Target, to the mall, out to lunch, and if she had a meltdown, it just had to be and I took care of it as best I can. I do know one thing: I will never roll my eyes at another parent again. I used to see babies screaming and parents doing things with their children I always swore I wouldn't do, but now that I have one of my own, I understand that every parent does the best they can with what they have. Every parent is just trying to keep their head above water. I feel a part of that "posse" now, and feel universally bonded to other mothers in a way I never expected. I feel like I could hug every woman I see with a child and just say, "I know, I'm one of you now." I love it.

This is kind of tangential, but I've recently discovered Facebook, and while the fact that I JUST discovered it makes me pathetically behind the times, it has allowed me to connect with people I once knew (many of whom are mothers) and it totally warms my heart in an unexpected way. Women I once knew as single freewheeling chicks are all on their own journeys, many of which include children, and although the thing that once connected us is no longer there, I feel strongly that memories link me to them in strange ways, and that now that I'm officially an "adult" (as having Maura has made me feel), I can connect with these people and wish them well and have it be just that, connected with people I care about that played a huge part in my life and that I would like to see doing well themselves. I could go on forever, but I can't tell you how good it feels to reach out to the people I often think about and hear they were doing the same. As weird as it sounds, it gives me tremendous pleasure to see an old friend's face and hear they are doing well. People don't ever mean for relationships to end, or to move on from the people who were so important in their lives at one juncture, and I feel thankful that Facebook has given me a chance to reconnect and wish those people well, even if they were only in my life for what seems like the blink of an eye. Every blink is valuable to me now; my perspective has totally changed.

As you can see, I am (and feel) all over the place, mainly because I'm in awe of how she has changed my life. I value myself more, love my husband more than I thought humanly possible, and feel like I now understand what it means to put someone else's life before your own. I would die for my daughter, no matter what the circumstances. I cry with how much I love her. It's the best feeling in the world.

one month old!

Hard to believe, but Maura is one month old today!

It has been the ride of our lives, this first month with our girl. Some days I still can't believe it's real. She seems to have completely recovered from any problems she had when she was born. We go to the doctor next week, but according to my unofficial weigh-in, she's right at about 7 1/2 pounds. She eats, poops and pees like a champ, and she (sort of) sleeps well. She recognizes our voices, turns her head from side to side, loves playing on the activity mat, and is very alert more and more every day.

It's such a life-altering experience, being a parent. I get overwhelmed all the time; not with how tough it is, but at how much I love her and what an enormous responsibility is before us. I spent the first few days home from the hospital in constant tears. It was hard (and still is) to take it day by day, moment by moment. I would hold her and just cry, thinking that one day I was going to die and leave her. This is still my saddest thought, and always in the back of my head. It propels me to try to relish every moment with her now. I used to think I'd be worried constantly about how she would be as a teenager, how I'd be able to manage being a good parent and a good wife and a good worker, but I hardly think about those thing now. I know we'll make it through, as long as I'm lucky enough to be alive. My family is my reason for living. I am so lucky to have them.

She is generally a good girl; a little fussy and unpredictable and beautiful through it all. It's hard when we don't know why she's crying (harder still when it's 3 a.m. and we've exhausted every possibility) and she's got a cold now, which makes us feel terribly hurt and sorry for her. Jay and I have both said if we could jump into her body and feel her pain for her we would. I'm sure every parent feels this way, but the old cliche is so, so true -- nothing can prepare you for parenthood.

I'm pretty much fully recovered from childbirth, although not at all looking forward to going to work in two weeks. I have to blow dry my hair, put on make-up, iron a shirt? It all seems so trivial now. Maura has finally met almost all of her immediate family; my Mom came for a week this past week and my Dad and brothers are coming in the next two weeks. Jay's family has gotten to be around her from the beginning. She' so lucky to have so many people who love her.

I've tried to send pictures to everyone's email, but here's a few for those of you who haven't received them. She makes the best faces.

she's here!

Maura Elizabeth Smalley joined us on Thursday, August 21 at 1:35 p.m. She was 4 lbs. 15 oz. and 18 inches long. Sorry it has taken me so long to update! Here's the birth story:

On Wednesday the 20th I headed to the hospital for a repeat ultrasound to see if the girl had grown any from the previous week's ultrasound. Before I left the house, I thought, "This could be it. Shave your legs and pluck your eyebrows, do your hair and bring your bag." I didn't really believe it though, as they said I would get at least two days notice if I was going to be induced.

I arrived for the ultrasound and the tech immediately said, "She hasn't grown." I had gotten an official diagnosis of IUGR (interuterine growth retardation) earlier in the week, which basically means that my placenta just gave up around 34 weeks, and she was unable to gain any nutrients from my body from that point forward, which caused her to stop growing. It was a dangerous condition, particularly if the ultrasound proved that things had not improved over the course of a week.

The tech searched around looking at her blood and oxygen supply and went to go report to the doctor on call. 10 minutes later they came in and said that the baby was in distress and they were going to move me to labor and delivery. I got up in a daze and they said, "We're starting the induction." I was like, "Now??? Can I call my husband? What's going to happen?" A very nice doctor put his arm around me and said, "Your baby needs to be born. This is a great time to deliver, and you'll be just fine. 38 weeks is a perfect time to have a baby." They felt that she would not need NICU care once she was born and that it was safe to deliver at the hospital there instead of one in the city, so they brought me into a room and had me change into a gown. I called Jay and told him it was a go, which induced a bit of panic. He left work right away and was by my side within an hour.

It took a few hours, but they came in and set me up with pitocin, which is an artificial hormone that stimulates the uterus to contract. They told me the induction could take three days because they had to go slow because of her size and state. This was around 1:30 p.m. We sat and waited for the pitocin to take effect, but by 7 p.m., I hadn't really dilated any further and they wanted me to be able to eat and sleep before they kept up with everything any longer. The doctor came in and said that while the baby was OK, no matter what she needed to be born the next day, at the latest. So they turned off the pitocin, let me have a cheeseburger, and gave me orders to sleep, as the pitocin would be starting up again the next morning at 4 a.m. They were going to let it "saturate" in my body overnight.

We were too excited to sleep, and with all the goings on and checking in with the nurses, we didn't fall asleep until about midnight. At 4 a.m. as promised they came in with the pitocin. By the time I was checked again at 7 a.m., I had dilated only another half-centimeter, and while I was feeling contractions, they were only mildly uncomfortable and not very frequent, even though I was on the highest level of pitocin. At this point, they decided to break my water to get things moving. And move they did . . .

The contractions kicked in majorly, which as I imagined, were quite painful. I was breathing through them and Jay was calming me down, but when they came in at 10 a.m. after three hours of it, I was ready for the epidural. The epidural was finished by 11:30 a.m. and was a god-send; it didn't hurt AT ALL going in (no more than an IV prick) and the relief was almost instant. They checked me again to get a baseline and I was 4 cm. Everyone took bets on her birth time; everyone said no earlier than 10 p.m. We hunkered down for the long haul.

About an hour later, I started to get very cold, teeth-chattering and all. They checked me again and I was 6 cm. They came back 20 minutes later to adjust the pitocin, took one look at me, checked me again, and I was a full 10 cm. The doctor was like, "Ummm, call the pediatrician and let them know they need to be here for a birth immediately." She looked at me and said, "ready to push? You better get ready, we're starting in a few minutes and this baby needs to get out." She was struggling, and they had to insert an internal fetal monitor to the top of her head since the monitor on my belly wasn't able to keep track of her well enough. It all happened so fast, and next thing I knew, my legs were up and I was pushing.

In what felt like an instant, (and was only about 20 minutes), out came Maura screaming her little head off. They plopped her on my chest, and time stood still. I couldn't believe she was here and I was touching her. They had told me to expect that she would be moved right away to an isolette and that I wouldn't likely get to hold her right away, but because she was crying, they felt it was safe to let me hold her for a minute. Too soon they moved her to the warmer, and Jay got to cut the cord. I kept asking if she was OK as a team from the pediatrician's office were conducting her Apgar tests and checking her lungs and heart. I was so preoccupied with her that I don't remember delivering the placenta or getting stitched up. They concluded that although she was fine, she was in fact a preemie at just under 5 lbs., and they believe that I was not in fact 38 weeks, but more like 36, which is pre-term. We're still not sure if we believe that--it means that every ultrasound we'd had to date was incorrect in assessing her size and my due date, which is highly unlikely. But the pediatrician was convinced she was no older than 36 weeks, and so they were going to treat her as such in the nursery.

They cleaned everything up and decided that we could hold her for a while until it was time to move me to a new room and give her a bath. We were ecstatic -- again, we had been told not to expect this, that we would likely have to watch her being wheeled off to the nursery immediately. I couldn't stop crying at how much I loved her, and Jay was in heaven, holding his daughter like a natural. I'd never loved him so much as in that moment.

About an hour later they came back to move me and took her off to her bath. We were told they would come get us in about an hour or so once they were finished to show us a few things about feeding before we got settled in our room. They asked if it was OK to have a group of nurses and interns with her in the nursery as they got her cleaned up and ran some final tests on her muscular development, reflexes, etc. Of course, we said yes, and as they wheeled me to my new room past the nursery they held her up in the window to wave to me.

We got into our new room and I said I wanted to go check on her. We got half-way down the hall and the nurses stopped us and told us there were some problems. Her breathing was very labored, and she turned "dusty" during the tests. They had to abandon the bathing and put her in a warmer and run some tests. They let us go in as they were hooking her up to some makeshift oxygen tubes, and calling for more support from the pediatrician. They did a chest x-ray and determined she had something called TTN, which basically is a condition in preemies that causes fluid in the lungs. After much trial and error and us in tears, they decided to put her in a "hood" which is basically an upside-down bowl over her head that was going to feed in oxygen through some tubes filtered by a dehumidifier. And they hooked her up to an IV, which they wouldn't let us witness.

I have never been so terrified in my life. They let us come to look at her and touch her and talk to her whenever we wanted, but we had to spend the first night without her in our room. I barely slept, and went and sat with her a few times through the night. I felt terrible -- people came to visit, but no one got to hold her. And watching her on the monitors and stuck with an IV and not in my arms, I couldn't keep it together.

By noon the next morning she was doing better and they were slowly weaning her off the hood. By 4 p.m., she was breathing room air on her own, and they let me go in and feed her. It was exhilarating. Finally, after my body had failed to feed her for her last few weeks inside me, and after I was unable to do anything for her in her first day of life, getting to feed her gave me a purpose I could hold on to, something I could do for her that would do some good.

The next two days in the hospital were perfect--we got to have her in our room that night, learned to feed her and take care of her, bonded as a new family, got to know each other. I have many of my life's best moments that took place in those days--holding my sleeping daughter to my chest, laying in the hospital bed in the middle of the night with my husband curled up behind me, holding me as I cried at all of the love I felt for him and her, watching Jay lay with her on the silly fold out bed at 3 a.m. as we got ready to feed her. I still cry every day at those memories, knowing I will never get them back. As exhausted and out of sorts as I was, it was when I was at my best.

The decided to keep her another day to monitor her, and they let us stay on as boarding parents so we didn't have to leave her. We were so excited when we got the word we could take her home. The nurses and doctors were wonderful and wished us well, and then we were on our way to our new life.

The past two weeks have been like nothing else in my life. We love Maura so much it hurts sometimes to look at her because I have to hold back from sobbing. We can't imagine our world without her. It's the hardest thing we've ever had to do, but we're getting better at it by the day. I've never been so in love with Jay, and although I sometimes feel like we are two ships passing in the night, I couldn't be the mother I aspire to be without him by my side, and I want to do it again as soon as possible so we can keep building on the love we have for each other. I finally feel complete!

She is growing well, and as of her two week appointment yesterday she is up to 6 lbs. and 19 inches. Small, but growing like a champ!

Thank you to everyone for your love and support. Thanks to your generosity, we re the most well-fed new parents and she is the best dressed girl on the block. I'm going to try to update here as frequently as she allows, hopefully at least once a week.

XOXO,
Emily, Jay and Maura

some news

So we got some news on Thursday at the ultrasound that is not the best news, but not the worst news, either. For a reason yet (and maybe forever) unknown, the baby is not thriving in my uterus. At 37 week/1 day gestation, she is only 5 lbs. 3 oz., which is about the size of a 34 week old baby. Somewhere in the past three weeks she has stopped growing. While everything in the ultrasound showed that she looks healthy otherwise (has all her fingers and toes, has enough amniotic fluid available to her), she is not doing well in there and I will be induced sometime before 39 weeks (August 27) so she can come on out and get the help she needs to thrive.

While there can be a few concrete causes of this (high blood pressure, drug abuse, smoking), I have none of these risk factors. And while we have been under tremendous stress lately with our living situation, stress did not cause this, although it can make the situation worse. For that reason, I was put on bed rest, effectively immediately. I can drive to my doctor's appointments (and I now have one every day next week) but can't go anywhere else. And when I'm home, I need to be a "couch potato," as the doctor says.

It's been difficult to process this, as we have so much else going on right now. Jay and I didn't even have a chance to talk about it all face-to-face until he got home from work on Friday night at midnight. We've had lots of love and support from family and friends, and we're dealing with it as best we know how. We're finding it best for us to spend as much time left as we have before the baby comes with each other, and be calm and quiet and think through everything and talk about our concerns and just be with ourselves in these last few days before our lives will forever change. I know I've said this before many times, but Jay and I are a good team, and we're going to be alright, no matter what, because we have each other.

Despite this news, this still remains a very exciting time for us. We are daydreaming about our days as a new family, feeling more confident than ever that we can handle anything. Her nursery is set up with all her beautiful things, waiting for her to come home. Our bags are packed and we've got a cute outfit picked for her to come home in.

And while the birth experience will likely be different than we imagined, it will still be ours to share in our own way with our little girl. As I said, if I do not go into labor between now and the 27th, I will be induced, which can be up to a 3 day process because they have to proceed slowly because of her size. If there is any sign of fetal distress, I will have a c-section immediately. We will find out on Wednesday at the next high-level ultrasound how the cord and placenta are holding up and how she is doing. That will be the determining test that will dictate when I am induced. If she is still not thriving, I will likely be given 24 hours notice before the induction, unless they think there is a great risk and we will proceed immediately. If she looks like she's growing slightly, they will schedule the induction for no more than 7 days from that point.

As I'm already full term (which is defined as 37 weeks), her lungs are anatomically developed but she may need some assistance with oxygen when she's born. "Premature" is defined as 5 lbs. and under, so unless she drops weight (which is possible during an induction), she will not be considered premature. And while we plan to deliver at our normal hospital, we may deliver elsewhere if the doctors think we need to be at a more major medical center.

There are a lot of factors to consider, and many scenarios to play out. We are still working things out in our own heads, but are confident that things will be just fine and that there are far more dire situations in which babies enter the world and thrive.

I'll try to keep this updated as the week wears on. Lots of love to everyone.

it's official

We're in (almost).

The moving process will happen over the course of a few days, but as far as I'm concerned, we're in! No more going back to our old place for me, if I can help it.

I've included some pictures of it without all of our stuff in it. It's nicer, bigger and cleaner than I imagined. Now all it needs is a little baby girl in one of the rooms and we'll be all set!

I'm officially full term this week, which is very exciting. Three weeks to go until my due date! I'm having an ultrasound tomorrow to check the fetal weight and positioning, as they think she's still transverse breech. And with the stress of the past few weeks I haven't been gaining weight (in fact I've lost a few pounds), so they want to check on her size. She should be about 6 to 6 1/2 lbs. now, and I think she'll be 7 1/2 lbs. when she's born, which means she'd need to cook for another two weeks at least. Fine by me! Although I feel ginormous, and look it, too, I don't think she's going to be a 9 lb.+ baby. I still haven't hit a 20 lb. weight gain, and according to the doctors there's a good 10 - 15 lbs. of "other" stuff (fluid, extra blood volume, placenta, etc.) gained with pregnancy, so while it's possible she'll be 9 lbs., it's highly unlikely. Famous last words, right?

If I get any good ultrasound pics tomorrow, I'll post those, too. For now, here's our empty (but BIG, BEAUTIFUL and CLEAN) new home:

on the move

Well, it has been a tumultuous week, to say the least. I won't bore everyone with the long and dramatic details but the short version comes down to this: we're moving. Next week. Yes, I know I'm 9 months pregnant. Yes, I know we just moved in March. Trust me when I say this was not in the cards even two weeks ago.

Our current apartment situation went from bad to worse last week, with threats of eviction, STILL no clean up of the basement, only recently restored hot water, no furnace, conversations with lawyers and the health department and finally, a decision that for our health, safety and peace of mind, we needed to get the hell out of there as fast as we could.

Those that know me well may not find this surprising, as I am usually the first to jump ship at the sign of trouble. Jay is much more rooted. However, it came down to what our life would be like continuing to live in an apartment below a landlord who didn't give a rat's ass about keeping the house livable, and who confessed to not having the money to do even the smallest of repairs, which spelled big danger for ever getting the furnace fixed in time for the New England winters (which can often start with needing heat at night as early as September). If it was just Jay and I, we could have survived. But not with the baby. The health department, housing department, the lawyer, my doctor -- everyone said, if you can move now, do it.

So we are. We found a great place in a managed apartment complex just down the street. It's a two bedroom, clean, nice regular old apartment, with more amenities than we have now (yeah dishwasher!) and our favorite part, a 24 hour maintenance crew. We have vowed not to move again for at least 3 years, and never again to deal with a landlord. The stress has been unbelievable, and although we've made the best of it and it will all work out in the end, I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

We have been so blessed to have such wonderful and supportive friends and families who have helped us through this. We've cried (well, mainly me), panicked, paced, cried more, stayed awake in the middle of the night, been unable to eat, and through it all, have always been able to count on people to help support us and offer their love, time, money, and packing skills if it meant we could make it though this as unscathed as possible. Everyone's really worried about me and the baby, and I must say that between my amazing husband, who has handled the brunt of this disaster, and our friends and families, I just know this is all for the best and that we will be just fine in the end. So thank you, from the bottoms of our hearts.

Let's keep our fingers crossed that the baby doesn't decide to come between now and next week. It's unlikely she will, but just say a little wish to the universe for us!

I don't want to post our new address on the internet, but will send a separate email soon.