Despite the terrified look on his face, Luke loves bath time. At first he was pretty passive and would just get a wide-eyed, excited look on his face. This last couple of times he has splashed around so much in his little tub that it seemed easier to move him to the big tub rather than clean up all the water mess. I don't mind because all during bath time I can't wait to see if he becomes the next Michael Phelps. Or maybe we'll just end up splashing around in Grandma Schofield's pool this summer. Either way I'll be thrilled.
Last weekend my Grandpa Schofield came into town with my Aunt Patricia. We also got to see cousin Ashley-- I'd like to see all three of them more often, but it's nice to see them when we do. This means that Luke has met 4 of his 5 living great-grandparents. Now all we have to do is trek across the country to the Florida Keys to see Grammy, and we're all set! Florida is definitely at the top of my vacation wish list-- great mission, great weather, and most importantly, great grandmas.
Mac and I welcomed little Luke at 6:25 a.m. on Friday the 7th. He was sunny side up (facing the wrong way), which complicated things a little, but he was a trooper through all the hours of labor and all of the newborn poking and prodding that goes on in hospitals. Any time he and I would fall asleep a nurse or doctor would come in for vitals or other screening. We were really blessed with incredible nurses (and doctor's too). Here are some pictures of our little trooper: Brand new! He really like being swaddled.
Well at about 9pm Diana started having contractions at about 10 minutes apart. At around 1:30am (I think) they were about 5 minutes apart (or less). She woke me up at around 3am, we've all showered, and now we're just waiting for her to say "Let's go". And then we'll go. She was at the Hospital for 4 hours yesterday doing some tests and waiting for results (the waiting is what took most of the time), and they told her that if she didn't go into labor by sunday night, that we'd go in then, and they'd induce her Monday morning. I'm so glad we don't have to do that! She's doing very well, and has figured out how to manage the pain, so that's awesome. I can't believe it's finally happening. Woo!
Today I ran across an article by a cultural anthropologist entitled "The Rituals of American Hospital Birth" which can be found here http://www.davis-floyd.com/USERIMAGES/File/The%20Rituals%20of%20American%20Hospital%20Birth.pdf . I wish everyone would read it, but wouldn't be surprised if no one did because who besides an overdue pregnant lady with little else to do wants to read a 20 page article about the symbolism involved with hospital birth?
While there are many fears that might circulate through an about-to-deliver pregnant lady's mind (you know, pain, complications, pain), my main fear is technology. Seems like a weird fear, right? Technology in birth is what delivers us from all of those other fears like pain or something going wrong with the baby's health or mine, right? Certainly I am somewhat afraid of the pain (although between my mother and my mother-in-law there are 12 unmedicated childbirths, so really if they can handle it, I hope I can as well).
This article talks about where technology can hurt us. I hope this doesn't come off as me being judgmental of women who are seeking a different birth experience than I am, it's the last thing I want to do. Most women are fine with all of the technology used in hospitals to get them to their beautiful, healthy baby. That's what we all want in the end is a healthy baby. In addition to a healthy baby, I would like an empowering, low-tech experience. If what I have said thus far doesn't jive with what you think about birth, or bores you, just stop reading, it'll probably just get increasingly annoying.
If I could have afforded it or if my insurance had covered it, I would have been giving birth at the only birth center in Sacramento. It's a really really cool place where the nurse-midwife has all of the training and technology needed to ensure nothing goes wrong, but it's tucked away because most births don't need technology. She has a bedroom set up where you can eat, drink, move around, get in the bathtub, sit on a labor ball, listen to what you want, basically be in charge of your labor and delivery experience.
Unfortunately, my other two choices are 1) deliver my baby at home, unassisted as I cannot afford a midwife and 2) deliver in a hospital where it is covered by my insurance. All that swims through my head is how powerless hospitals make me feel. I know it might seem dramatic, but look at the symbolism of some of the things in hospitals. When you arrive you are offered a wheelchair as if you are disabled. Then they immediately want to hook you up to IV fluids, which to me symbolizes that you are dependent on the hospital for your well being instead of nourishing yourself through eating and drinking. Next they want to put you on continual fetal monitoring. When hospital personnel enter the room they look at the monitor before they look at you, as if the machine is having the baby. Those aren't even to mention the other interventions that can be used, including my most feared- Pitocin and C-sections.
I think I will conclude my rant now, because even those of you that are still reading are probably bored to tears. All I ask of people (doctors, nurses, friends) is that they attempt to understand where I am coming from. I want more than a healthy baby in the end, I'd like an experience that acknowledges the fact that my body is connected to my mind and spirit, that I am a capable person, and that our bodies were designed in such a way that most of us don't need any help to do what billions have already done.
A couple of mornings ago, we woke up, and Diana looked at me and said "Where's your pillowcase?" I looked at my pillow, and then I remembered getting out of bed in the middle of the night, pulling the case off, and putting it in the dirty-clothes-basket. BUT, I have no idea why I did it! I must have dreamed that it was dirty or something. Strange things, heh. Anybody have similar stories?
This Saturday we went to the park to have a picnic with another family and the missionaries. One of the missionaries loves lacrosse as does my little brother Bryan, so after dinner they all went to the field to play. My dad hung behind to help the other family's 4-year-old tie up his shoes on a bench. Here's what transpired:
4-year-old: How OLD are you? Dad: It's a secret, but don't you think I look like your Dad's age? 4-year-old: Yeah, except your hair is different. Dad: What color is your Dad's hair? 4-year-old: Brown Dad: And what color is my hair? 4-year-old: Gray
The women-folk still sitting at the picnic table got a good laugh out of this, as did my Dad. I think this is just another sign to my Dad that he is, indeed, aging. The first came when he hit 55 and all of his children started to tease him mercilessly about getting the senior discount at some places (which he refuses to do as a matter of pride). The other big awakening for him is that he is about to be a grandpa. When we asked him about what he wants his grandpa name to be, he refused everything from Grandpa to Pops. What name did he approve? Coach. My dad wants to be called coach by his grand kids. Let's just hope he comes to his senses by the time my baby is old enough to speak!
I have always felt that I am a championship shopper. I have a hard time spending money on things I don't feel are a good deal. I have been to just about every store from regular baby stores to discount stores, consignment shops, thrift stores, you name it. Saturday alone I drug Mac to 3 stores trying to find a decent crib. In my mind a decent crib is one that is sturdy, can be used to co-sleep until Luke is sleeping through the night (removable side gate so it can be right next to my bed), and is a killer deal. The last store that we went to was IKEA. I like to check the discount area first, to make sure I'm not missing out on any deals. No luck there. We went through the whole store just to find that the cribs were out of stock. At that point I felt discouraged, like I would end up spending more than I wanted to somewhere else. Before we checked out, I felt we should go and check the discount area once more and look through the un-assembled boxed furniture. Lo and behold they had an excellent crib for 50% off with a very minor flaw that can easily be fixed. I only spent 50 bucks! Seriously, if there was a black belt for shopping, it would be mine.
The morning of the ultrasound was exciting. We got up early, drove into Fair Oaks (a suburb of Sacramento) and were even there before the place opened in anticipation of the big moment. Once the glob of ultrasound goo was on Diana's belly the ultrasound technician didn't waste any time finding our little boy's parts. The look on Mac's face said it all- He's thrilled to be the dad of a little boy! Diana's excited as well and can't wait to meet our little son.
Besides finding out what kind of a "peanut" we're having (I don't know why we started calling the baby a peanut, but it kind of stuck), it was also thrilling to see the movement. Not only were his little legs fluttering, but we could see him practicing sucking. Sooooo cute!
Our wonderful photographer/best friend/person I'm indebted to for eternity created a beautiful slide show of some wedding pictures. The first time I saw it I cried like a baby. I hope you all enjoy it half as much as I do (and that's a lot). It's at this link: Wedding Slide Show