William - Nine Months Already!

William: Nine Months

On Thursday, William hit the 9-month old milestone. Despite a mild cold, he had a great well-baby check up. He is over 19 inches tall and 29 pounds of baby awesomeness. He was pleased that this doctor visit involved no shots. Maybe that's why he gave the nurse practitioner several hugs. Not even a year and already the little flirt!

William has spent the past few weeks rapidly leaving behind all things infant and leaping into little boy territory. About two weeks ago he mastered crawling. He's been more or less mobile longer than that, with rolling, scooting and dragging himself along getting him where he wanted to go. Once the "real" baby crawl technique clicked for him, though, he was able to get places ever so much faster. Now we're back to baby-proofing everything at baby level. It's so interesting to see what catches his eye. So far William hasn't pinched his fingers on the toy kitchen cabinets, but we do have the oddity of a baby lock on one of the doors. William is fascinated with doors -- he's realized he needs to back up before pulling a his bedroom forward and crawling through. Then he zips down the hallway, either heading into Anna's room to play with the alphabet magnets or, more often, into Erik's room to bang together pieces of wooden train track. It seems that we have another railfan because William is captivated by Erik's various trains and train layouts. Good to know we won't have to pursue any new toys or activities at this point. William's interest in Erik's things means we have now arrived at the moment I've been fretting about -- keeping big kid toys (Legoland!) out of little kid hands. So far, William hasn't put anything other his own fingers in his mouth, but keeping the tiny stuff away from him is going to be a major challenge for our household for the next few years.

I was going to write that William is finally getting into consistent good sleep habits, but I'm listening to him whimper on and on right now instead of napping. As it's a Saturday, the day's schedule is just different enough to convince him that he might miss something if he gives in to sleep. Overall, he's becoming a good sleeper. After a few weeks of micro naps, he's been taking two solid naps a day most of the time. Now I can't seem to do any errands since I need to be home for his sleep time, but that's fine for now. At night he's always been a decent sleeper. When he wakes it's usually just once, or twice if he's not feeling well. A few weeks ago I thought I was ready to enforce the no-nightime snacks rule and eliminate our 11:30 nursing session, but when it dawned on me that it was one of the few times I could enjoy my littlest boy without company, I postponed the event a few more weeks. So, it was Mom's issue, not his that kept his night waking going. This week I decided he was old enough for us to all sleep better, and with just mild protest he's been doing great. The catch here is that he still has no teeth, which means once I get used to full nights of sleep again, we're bound to have a few nights of discomfort when they finally come in.

The nap protest continues, so I think we have a small grump to deal with today. I think we can cure what ails him with his second-favorite activity after crawling -- eating. William despises prepackaged babyfood (except Sprout chicken dishes. Good stuff. Even I could tollerate that, I think.) but nibbling on whatever else is on the table makes him very happy indeed. So, snack time, here we come.

Welcome, William!

William looking at Daddy, just minutes old.

William smiles for Mommy. 

The big kids love their new brother. 

The Olsen Family, August 10, 2011

Hello, World. I'm William!

Introducing William Jamieson, born August 10. 

Our "little" guy was 8 pounds 14 ounces 

and 22 inches long. 

Baby update: 39 weeks

Here's a picture of our little man from yesterday. Yet again, it was hard to get a good picture since he's always hiding behind his hands. I'm trying to figure out if he was winking at us or managed to give himself a black eye. (The real answer is that it's just a shadowy picture.)

Baby had the same tests yesterday that we did the past two weeks and passed them again with no problem. The doctor says he looks like a beautiful baby. She thinks it's unlikely that I will make my appointment next Monday. Every indication is that he's getting ready to meet us sometime soon. Of course, we thought that for a few weeks before Anna put in her appearance, so it's certainly no guarantee. So, he could show up today. He could be a tease and hang out for another week yet.

Whenever Baby decides to arrive, we are ready. Over the weekend, Jamieson hung up some pictures on the nursery walls and a nightlight suitable for late-night diaper changes. Our main goal is to get Jamieson healthy. He's fighting a rather nasty sinus infection now. Sunday morning, we let him sleep while the rest of us went to church. Nothing like being as pregnant as I am with two bouncy preschoolers to get me plenty of sympathetic looks and doors held open.

The older kids are going absolutely stir crazy with being stuck inside during this summer heat. I just can't endure spending much time outside these days, so they're stuck in with me. On the occasions when we do get outside for a bit, my fair-skinned children turn red within minutes, so they don't fair much better with the humidity than I do. Fall and school days can't come soon enough for them.

It will be interesting to see how the kids react when Baby finally arrives. Erik's current concern is about the crying. He asked how much time Baby and I would be in the hospital. I said it would be two or three days, assuming everyone was healthy. He said we should stay three days because he doesn't want Baby's crying to wake him up. Anna just wants to hold the cute baby. I'm sure she will be frustrated with being dethroned from her role as the youngest. Some days it seems the closer she gets to three, the more she acts like a two-year old. Again, it will be good for them to have school soon. As I update our August and September calendar with all the back-to-school activities, I find it challenging to think that I have to haul a newborn along, too. When Erik was born, Jamieson and I pretty much sequestered ourselves for a few weeks as we tried to figure out what to do with the tiny little person we now had. That didn't happen with Anna and it certainly won't happen this time!

Right this moment, I have a traumatized little dog hiding under my chair. When the kids are getting ready for bed or napping, Callie searches for them and has even been known to nap on Anna's bed with her. (Erik isn't as much of a dog person, it seems.) The rest of the day, Callie spends trying to get out of the way of the stampede. It's tough to be a 10-pound elderly dog around this crew. It's probably not her first choice for a relaxing home, but she's certainly good for us when we slow down enough to snuggle with her.

Baby update: 38 weeks

Baby Olsen, July 25, 2011 (squishing his own nose) 

Here's the latest peek at our little guy. Since he had his fists up against his face, this is the best view we could get, but it's still fun to see. Look at those chubby cheeks! I'm having ultrasound weekly now to keep an eye on how Baby is doing. ("Advanced maternal age," you know.) So far, he's doing great. The ultrasound is for a "biophysical profile" that looks at various characteristics, including movement, breathing, muscle tone and amniotic fluid. He got an 8 out of 8 points both last week and this morning. He also did fine with his "non-stress test" which is just listening to his heart beat and making sure it picks up when he moves. Believe me, he moves! Aside from me being incredibly bored by having to sit in an empty room waiting for enough little lines to be recorded on a sheet of paper, it's certainly nice to know that he's doing well. The doctor doesn't expect him to make his grand entrance for at least another week, so I probably have time to still get pictures on the nursery wall and birthday presents for a certain big sister who will be turning 3 in two weeks.

At this point, I'm pretty much sick of being pregnant. It's hot. I'm pumpkin shaped. I'm tired of heartburn, sleeplessness and conversations about my physique. On the other hand, I'm more than happy to take another week or two to get ready for Baby. There's always some other baby shirt or blanket that really ought to get washed before he uses it. There are more than enough pages in Erik and Anna's sadly out-of-date baby books that need to be completed. My grand plans of stocking the freezer with meals haven't even begun to materialize. Oh yeah, and I hate labor. HATE labor. No getting around that one. Plus there's that year of sleepless nights on the other side of delivery. (Dear Medical Community, the irony of the "back to sleep" campaign is that implies that a baby on his back will sleep. Not in this house.) It's a mixed bag. I can't wait to snuggle the little guy, but I'm happy to wait till he's good and ready. I would, of course, appreciate if we could avoid any more 100-degree days between now and whenever his birthday will be. That would make the waiting a lot more pleasant!

One more thing, yes, he does have a name. It's his middle name that's up in the air, but the list isn't too long. Since you already know that he's a he and he's a cute little thing, you'll just have to be patient on the name issue until there are some additional statistics to go with it!

Baby update: 34 weeks

Not much to report in babyland this week. I had a check up this morning. From the nurse's point of view, it was probably eventful in that I acted like I was going to pass out when she was listening for Baby's heartbeat. Anytime I lay on my back or even lean back with my feet up, I feel ill. So, that got me a nice cold cup of water and a sucker. The doctor blamed the way Baby is sitting, but didn't seem concerned. Otherwise, everything else is fine. In fact, everything is so unremarkable and so little is being done at these check-ups that it almost seems like a waste of time. Better to be an unexciting case than have oodles of questions and problems, of course, so don't mind my griping.

Jamieson has just taken the "big kids" to Grandma and Grandpa O's house for an overnight. So I'm going to take the opportunity to tidy up a bit (and have it stay picked up for a few hours!) and then have some real quiet time of my own this afternoon. Tonight, Jamieson and I will head out for an anniversary dinner at a restaurant without a kids' meal!

Happy Independence Day!

Let the fretting begin

As of Monday, I will be 30 weeks along with this pregnancy. It will also be almost June, the month I keep deferring to, as in "No need to get that baby stuff in order till June." Now it's anybody's guess if Little Guy will show up early, late, or on time, which would be August 8, but there's no arguing with the fact that we are certainly nearing his arrival. And that means it's time for the big freak out to begin.

This week it hit me, or I let myself realize, that I need to go through the whole birth experience yet again. I have two kids. I knew what I was getting myself in to. Mercifully, walking out of a hospital with a healthy infant tends to blunt the unpleasant memories of the hours before the bundle of joy arrives. Unfortunately, middle of the night thoughts in the weeks leading up to doing it again reminds me how much I don't enjoy this aspect of motherhood. In fact, "hate" is not too strong a word.

Obviously, it's the rare woman who raves about how wonderful childbirth was. Usually stories range from pride in what the body can accomplish in extreme circumstances to pride in having a spectacular tale of woe to share. I had one long labor and one relatively short one. To me they were unpleasant, but not dramatic enough for true labor story glory. Yet, they were icky enough from my point of view to make me dread going through it again.

I like to prepare for situations. I read, I research, I analyze my options. For something as unpredictable as childbirth, preparing has it's limitations, which is truly maddening (although an accurate preparation for parenthood as a whole). What I wanted when we were getting ready to have Erik was the natural childbirth experience. I'm not anti-doctor or anti-medicine. I vaccinate my kids and myself. I call the doctor's office when I have a question about their health. I can only endure a migraine so long before I'm reaching for a prescription. I have concerns, though, when such a new, fragile life is part of the equation. Getting to be born with as few medications and stress-inducing procedures as possible seems like a good plan. Turns out, I'm not the mom to provide that, though. I tried. I failed.

As I was skimming through childbirth information last week, it occurred to me that it was foolish for me to ever think that someone of my personality could relax my way through childbirth. We did the right classes, but practicing relaxing? Ha! Didn't happen. I don't relax by clearing my mind, focusing on my breathing, and all that. If I'm stressed, I need to do something -- a walk, a run, clean a closet, read a book. But to just be? My brain turns off for nothing. I don't even nap unless I'm sick. There are just too many things I'd rather be doing. So, I had hardly mastered the art of calm when Erik decided to come into the world. (Too bad, because now that he's here, I could really use it!) He took his sweet time and my exhausted body asked for the drugs I'd resisted after all and they still didn't do much good. Anna arrived in speedy fashion and I, not believing a baby could possibly be born in less time than her poky brother, tried yet a different medical approach. Nope, not much more pleasant.

Again, it's not that I think there's something wrong with modern childbirth. I just read Get Me Out: A History of Childbirth from the Garden of Eden to the Sperm Bank by Randi Hutter Epstein.  I'm beyond glad that I live at this point in history and not even just a few decades ago. My worries about getting through childbirth have to do with control issues and not, thank God, fears for my life. My problem is trust. I haven't had the same doctor see me through all my pregnancies. For various reasons, I see someone new almost every time I'm at the doctor's office. I don't doubt that the folks I'm dealing with share my desire to have a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby. I do wonder if they share my approach to getting there and, if not, I don't see the same person often enough to hear why they do things the way they do. Sure, I'm glad that the nearest hospital is not unlike a spa in decor and amenities. I do wonder, though, if the folks working there can see past their policies and procedures to respect the individuals before them. Either there's no time to explain why hospitals do what they do or I was too out of it to understand, but my memories of labor involve being scared and confused. Not fun. Not fun, at all.

So, this is what I fret about these days. In a way it's like the bride worrying about the wedding and forgetting to prepare for the actual marriage beyond the big day. On the other hand, I've just written off my three-kid life as completely crazy. There's no possibility of order or calm. I'm just hoping the kids all grow up enjoying each others' company somewhat. For me, though, I really wish I could feel at peace with the uncertainty of the whole thing. I wish I felt like it was okay to want to do things in my own way and okay to feel nervous that that's unlikely to happen. I wish I didn't feel like I am disappointing everyone when I don't slap on a happy face and blather on about how excited I am about the changes in our house and how open I am to whatever the doctors feel is necessary. Happy happens when Anna hugs my belly or Erik brags about having two boys in the house with just one sister. It most certainly doesn't happen on command.

The lesson here could be that control freaks shouldn't become parents. I'm hoping it's really that there's a great deal of patience and flexibility that God wishes I'd learn and He's using the children as my teachers. I'm incredibly stubborn, so it's likely going to take their entire lifetimes for me to even begin to get it. My apologies, kids. Just know that Mom was just trying to get things started right for you in her own rigid, obstinate way.

Baby update

Baby Boy Olsen and I are 26 weeks and 1 day into his pregnancy and doing fine. I had a check up this morning. Happily, I'm still not being yelled at for gaining weight and I think I now know where it's going. The little guy is apparently on the big size. My belly should be at 26-28 cm but it's at 29. The doctor wasn't concerned. It's just something to keep an eye on. Really, no one thought he was going to be a peanut, did they? Next week, I get to do the glucose tolerance test.

The kids seem so matter-of-fact about baby's development and eventual arrival. He's just part of the daily conversation. It couldn't be cuter when Anna tries to give him a hug or Erik says, "Hi, Baby" to my belly. If it ever warms up, I will have some explaining to do to Anna, though. She often asks if Baby's ready to come out and I tell her he won't be ready till it's hot outside. She may be in for some disappointment during those first hot days of summer. He's supposed to stay put until August 8, the day before her birthday.