Hell yeah! Six weeks of nothing but breast milk for my piglet. Three month ribbon, here we come.

I remember I used to feel like a badass when we brought someone back at work. There was nothing quite like seeing that rhythm of death on the monitor, and then watching someone jump back from the edge.

Comforting your baby or soothing her to such an extent that she nods off to sleep is SO much better than that.

My low-birth-weight baby is now a breastfeeding success story.

Hadley was born three weeks ago weighing five pounds, six ounces. We took her home two days later at 5.1. I was determined to breastfeed and we went at it with gusto. Roughly a week and a half later, she weighed 5.14!

I'd been stressing over my supply because it seemed like I wasn't getting as much on the rare occasions I pumped; the MD told me to go ahead and pump after feedings to either get the hang of it and to try to increase my supply. At first I'd get four ounces per breast; lately I'd only been getting one or two but that seemed normal from posts I've seen here.

Well, we weighed Hadley today, two weeks after her last weigh in. She was SEVEN FOUR! I was so thrilled! My baby, who had been in the 5th percentile for size, jumped a whopping 5% and is now in the tenth percentile. The Pediatrician said she was perfect and doing amazing. He also said she was really strong and that she held her head up longer than he'd expect from a baby of her age and size.

This appointment thrilled me to no end. It's an amazing feeling knowing that your baby is thriving solely on the nourishment you give her. I sometimes hate getting up in the middle of the night, but at the same time I love snuggling up with her when it's just her and me, and it's all quiet in the world.

I look at her and I can't help but think that she was my reason for all that I am, and all that I've experienced in my life.

Don't have much time for a big post, but I figured I'd post some pics for people to tide them over. Brace yourself, I'm firmly convinced she's the cutest thing on the planet. Then again, I might be biased!

http://flickr.com/photos/geribartz/

Okay it's not really breaking news. I thought everyone already knew this, but after my marathon phone session with Amy, I was informed NO, NO ONE KNOWS ANYTHING.

I'm having a c-section on Tuesday. That's right, THIS Tuesday! Cancel the Monster Trucks and the Swap Meet! The Half-Pint is making her appearance! Although I can't really call her Half-Pint anymore because she gained nearly a pound in...ten days, so I call her Chunk now. I won't call her that when she can hear me, don't get your panties in a twist! The last thing I want is my baby to grow up with a complex and anorexia and then she ends up on Lifetime in her own movie, played by Melissa Gilbert. If any nickname can lead in any way to Melissa Gilbert, it's not healthy on any level.

I actually thought of a great nickname for her the other night because we were lying in bed and once again, my womb was playing host to Fight Club. I thought to myself, gosh, she sure is sassy. And then it led to us having a dog named Moxie, who is also sassy, and it led to FURTHER thinking (I do a lot of internalized dialogue in bed) that I have a Moxie and a Chutzpah.

For you that are UNENLIGHTENED;

mox·ie (mks)
n. Slang
1. The ability to face difficulty with spirit and courage.
2. Aggressive energy; initiative: "His prose has moxie, though it rushes and stumbles from a pent-up surge" Patricia Hampl.
3. Skill; know-how.

chutz·pah also hutz·pah (tsp, ht-)
n.
Utter nerve; effrontery: "has the chutzpah to claim a lock on God and morality" New York Times.
[Yiddish khutspe, from Mishnaic Hebrew upâ, from ap, to be insolent; see p in Semitic roots.]

So, Chutzpah isn't nearly as cool as Moxie, it's more like the Robin to the Batman of Moxie, but that's okay. Moxie is the dominant force in this trainwreck and Hadley will probably be her willing sidekick anyway.

In other news, I'm knitting like crazy. If anyone wants a kid-or-infant-sized beanie, leave a comment. I'm knitting a two-tone purple striped beanie for Hadley-cakes (as her Daddy calls her) right now, but drop me a note and your email address and I can let you know the hojillion yarn colors I have. Bonus points if you request Hogwarts House Stripe Colors.

I went to the doctor and I am proud to report that I gained four pounds! Not only did I gain, but the doctor also told me I could safely travel to my brother in law's wedding in August. This has me really excited, because I was desperately bummed that Matt was going without me. I really want to see his family and be there for that special day and now I can be, yay! Must remember to bring mosquito repellent.

As for other news, I'm slightly anemic. My doctor has this GROOVY test where he slices my finger, puts some blood on a little strip, and checks it for my hemoglobin. At least I think it checks HgB and not Hematocrit but I'm not sure. Either way, it's neat. Anyway, I got a new prenatal with more Iron and stocked up on orange juice. Nurse tip for the day: Vitamin C puts the Iron you ingest to work, so don't bother taking Iron if you're not getting dietary Vitamin C, too.

I feel guilty and a little relieved that I'm staying off work until after I pop. It's been causing me anxiety, not being there and yet at the same time, I can barely do a load of dishes or laundry without collapsing on the couch after. Twelve hour shifts in the pit is just not feasible at this point, as my doctor gently reminded me. So I am relieved at the extra time to rest, but at the same time I feel like I'm being lazy or being a sissy. Nobody's really faulted me for staying off, least of all people I work with, but some people have been like "Uh, you're not going back to work..?" My MIL means well but I don't think she understands I'm still getting paid even though I'm not there, I'm not going to get fired, and that I do stuff around the house in turn. I love her to death, but she sort of made me feel even more guilty. Should I feel guilty, or am I just giving myself an anxiety issue?

I'm updating my livejournal so I can join some parenting communities and not feel like such a lonely prego. I suppose I'll post my posts from my blog to here, make some friends, keep other friends up to date, ET CETERA.


Addendum: If you don't want to hear about my thoughts on being pregnant, having a kid, and becoming a supermom, you should probably do us both a favor and remove me from your friends list. Thanks!

Each player of this game starts off with 10 weird things/habits/little-known facts about yourself. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 10 weird habits/things/little-known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you need to choose 10 people to be tagged and list their names.


Ten things I can do. But I don't think I have ten ljay friends!

1. Throughout my life I've been able to recognize pieces of music from movies and say what movie they're from. I dunno, not that exciting but my mom always thought it was amazing. I'm talking composed pieces with orchestration, not some pop piece of crap.

2. I became a nurse because of the nurse who took care of my cousin Ian when he died unexpectedly. I never met the man, but he made such an impact on my aunt and uncle that they communicate with him seven years later, and have gone to visit him in Montana twice since then. I thought that I'd do something right with my life if I could be that person for someone else.

3. I could read when I was three and a half, thanks to my parents. In the same vein, I took the entrance test to MENSA and could've joined, but after meeting some people in MENSA, I politely declined. THEY'RE ALL WEIRD.

4. My parents were divorced when I was in first grade and I went to a Catholic school. I was the only child in my class whose parents were divorced!

5. I never expected to be married or an ER nurse at 25 years old. When I was in high school, on graduation I planned to join Mother Theresa's order and become a nun. Obviously that didn't pan out! After that I wanted to go to film school, so as you can tell, it was a fickle run of ideas.

6. I can't eat certain meals if my foods are mixed or touching. I've gotten better about that XD

7. I am rabidly obsessed with the X-Men universe and can discuss the characters, plots, and canon for HOURS.

8. I've delivered three kinds of newborns personally, with my hands catching: Horses, Sheep, and Humans.

9. I saw the movie "Gladiator" nine times in the theatre. Eventually I had to start bribing people to go with me.

10. When I was a freshman in high school, my mom almost moved us to Denver for a job. If we had moved, I would've attended high school at Columbine and been a senior the same year as the shootings.

I stole this from Jase, who just stole it from someone else anyway.

January 13th:

1559 - Elizabeth I crowned queen of England in Westminster Abbey.
1968 - Johnny Cash records his landmark album At Folsom Prison live at Folsom State Prison
1854 - The accordion is patented by Anthony Faas.

Births:
Orlando Bloom, English actor
Julia Louis-Dreyfus, American actress

Deaths:
James Joyce, Irish writer (b. 1882)

"And what, monks, is right understanding? Knowledge with regard to sadness, knowledge with regard to the origination of sadness, knowledge with regard to the stopping of sadness, knowledge with regard to the way of practice leading to the stopping of sadness: This, monks, is called right understanding."

I think subject heading for a journal is stupid. But that's a line from the best poem ever, so, oh well.

I don't know why I'm writing this here, aside from just spilling it all out might make me feel better. Everyone I know has been listening to my sob story for days now, and since I think I'm straining the bonds of frienship, I'll just do this, I guess.

Sometimes during the night I dream about being back at Hitchcock. Tom is there. He and Cecilia are the doctors for the day. Taylor is there, making stupid remarks like "Do you want two tickets to the GUN SHOW?" and making fun of Fancypants. Debi is there in the afternoon and we talk about her grandson coming and the sweater I am supposed to be knitting for him. It's a perfect day, and even though I know it's a dream, I don't want to wake up because then it will be gone. Kim called today to see how I was, and to tell me to come get my stuff because "everyone would really love to see you". I don't even want to go. I miss them so much and seeing everyone and having to leave again would just suck.

Nobody has called me back for an interview. I don't think that having two jobs in six months was a good thing to see. All the qualifications in the world can't change that. I don't even know if I want a job in nursing, but everyone keeps telling me to get back on the horse, it's your dream, you're good at it. Blah blah blah.

I used to feel, like. Robust, I guess, is a good word. I was funny and charming and I got along with everyone. I was compassionate and I liked listening to my friends when they needed an ear. I had a family I could hang out with whenever I wanted. I moved to California and now I have a husband that I don't see that much. No real friends; Michelle never leaves her house and I don't want to go there because I hate her dogs. So I wander around my house and talk to people online and just feel worse and worse every day.

My grandpa had a stroke today. Just a little one, but it was in his cerebellum so he can't move too well. He's going to rehab in the hospital and he'll get better. I'm glad. I am afraid that my grandparents will die and I won't be able to be there.

Bruce's liver is finally shutting down and he needs a new one. I don't even know if he meets the transplant list requirements at UW, but they moved him to the top anyway. My mom says he's confused and out of it and his brain swelled because of fluid overload. He had to have five units of blood in five days. That's a person, pretty much. One whole person all shoved right into him. Weird.

I dunno what to do with myself besides sit here. I don't like going out and about alone, so I sit here and draw and feel empty. I used to feel all sorts of things; now when Matt asks me how I feel, I don't even know how to answer.

I guess that's most of it. I should just buy a cardigan and a Dashboard Confessional cd and make it official.
</emo>

I couldn't think of a topic, but while I was gung-ho about this journal shit, I thought, "Hey, I remember when I would start meditation with a saying and end it with Namaste. Journaling can be mindful meditation, sort of, so I'll pick up the trend and carry on. I will start my journals with my very favorite mantra, Om Mani Padme Hum, which means "Hail to the Jewel in the Lotus." I really love this mantra and I feel a definitive sense of a mindful state when using it. It is more commonly known simply as "Om", and it is a mantra to purify the six realms of suffering. As such, it is such a handy little phrase to encompass all teachings. So, I stick with it. I end most of my emails and other things, including meditations, with "Namaste", which spiritually means "The spirit in me meets the same spirit in you." In other words, that's a LOT of spirit.

Anyway. Here we go.

Om Mani Padme Hum

I really missed running. Today was the first time I've ran for pleasure in over a year. I decided to go to the beach and run alongside the waves; at the last minute I decided to bring my faithful dog Moxie. We arrived and walked a little on the cement track alongside the beach, and then we sprinted up over the dune and onto the beach itself. This was actually my first time on this beach since moving here. It was breathtaking. The surf was up and there was a perfect pipe rolling in. The sand was really soft, even down at the tideline, and this meant it took considerable push to keep a strong rhythm. It was perfect.

How can I describe running to those who have never done it except when forced to in school? I can't. Lama Surya Das says that any action can be done with mindfulness; I don't think running is an exception. When I run, I don't think. I hear the music but it's just there, it spurs me on. I feel like a machine, a well-oiled machine with pistons for legs. I run, and run, and run some more until I feel like I'm breathing gasoline, that all I am are two legs, two lungs, one heart. Everything just falls into place. I really feel this only when I use mantra or have a very long meditation; running is the only other activity I've experienced thus far that produces the same feelings. It sounds sort of sappy but it's just a perfect moment; I am the sand, I am the ocean, and I am even the little dog running alongside, scrambling to catch any bird stupid enough to ignore her.

It's bliss. I think that I am hooked yet again.

Namaste.

I just wanted to write an entry to see what it looked like. Uploading more music for my running minidisc, and I'm about to go run on the beach. Rock that. \m/