Sunday, June 13, 2010
Week 4 Photoshoot by Lance
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Affirmations
- Credit cards do more harm than good.
- Sunscreens do more good than harm.
- Macey's is the only True and Living grocery store.
- Antibacterial soaps should be used sparingly. Like steak.
- Women should feel free to breastfeed their children in public places if they want to.
Seventh Generation "organic" toilet paper is the worst product ever made, disintegrates upon contact with air, and results in bodily waste on your fingers. - Whether you stay home with your children is neither a good indicator of intelligence (I know plenty of super-crazy-smart SAHMs and plenty of super-stupid grad students / professionals.... and vice-versa), nor good mother-ness-ship (I know plenty of super-crappy SAHMs and plenty of super-awesome-loving mothers who work... and vice-versa). Feminist efforts should be about equal opportunity and fairness - not living some formulaic lifestyle that validates other feminists' choices. So basically,
- People should live and let live. Within reason. Lengthy discussion to follow with Peter regarding clause "within reason."
- Jesus's most important message was to love one another.
That's about it. I used to have a much longer list of personal convictions, but life and experience wore most of them out of me. Before I was a science nerd (biology), I was a super science nerd (math/physics) and spent a lot of time working out proofs and thinking about theorems. You know, "If... then... " statements and such. Things are so tidy in math. I liked that. Not so much in life.
An important part of human development is understanding cause and effect relationships. If you touch fire, your hand will hurt; if you use Seventh Generation toilet paper, your hand will stink. However, looking or relying on such absolute certainties when it comes to humans or emotions or love doesn't work nearly as tidily as stating, "If two points lie on a plane, the line containing them also lies on the plane." People are multifaceted, changing, complicated creatures. For example, I used to hate beets, and now I love them. See how deep and complex I am?
I've been thinking a lot about decisions and their consequences. Should I let my baby cry-it-out? Should I allow myself a can of Diet Coke once a day? Should I read her Shakespeare or P.D. Eastman? Should I make her sleep in a crib all the time to foster independence or should I allow her to sleep on my chest to foster bonding? How can I child-proof my house so that she will never, ever, and I mean EVER get so much as a paper cut.
A few years ago I was a student at BYU trying to make a decision regarding a love interest. I wrote "pros and cons" lists. Assigned points, even. I thought of a thousand different considerations. One afternoon I was running along the Bonneville Shoreline Trail, trying to reason out these weighty matters. I finally stopped, in tears, and thought... I can't decide anything... there are no guarantees. And then I realized that that was the answer. There are no guarantees.
Maybe I would live happily-ever-after with so-and-so, and maybe I would end up single ... in my thirties. Gasp.
There was no way to know, really. All I could do was make the best decision given the information I had, and hope for the best. I finally heard what my friend Kendall kept trying to tell me - that life doesn't culminate at some arbitrary endpoint called death, where somebody deems it either a success or failure based on a list of "good" and "bad" outcomes; that life is now, is continuous, is dynamic. At the time, I was all transcendentist-like, so I was carrying some paper and penned:
There are no guarantees
You can climb every mountain
And ford every stream
And examine every stone and stigma for secrets
But this trail won’t be here in ten years.
Go ahead.
Magnify flagella and Neptune under carefully crafted lenses
Plot patterns and trends on neatly Cartesianed paper
Elucidate transduction pathways of molecules and societies.
But don’t be alarmed -
Today’s luminous discoveries will be scoffed at tomorrow.
Go ahead.
Breathe your Nepalese mountains
Look to Kant, to Jung, to Nietzsche.
But your canonized scripts might be wrong, too
And your constructs as fallible as Pisa.
You can love me or not, but please don’t ask me to sign my name
In blood
Or ink
Or promises to never change;
I will.
Because even the most scintillian structures in atoms dance erratically in waves
And the noncompliant universe breathes in
While we spin madly about,
Breathes out.
Don’t be alarmed.
Today I am taking some deep breaths and reminding myself: there are no guarantees. I will likely do something, sometime, that will permanently damage my child. She will encounter pain, sorrow, and regret, and there is little I can do to prevent it. So I'm trying to shift my paradigm a bit from, "How can I ensure my child has the most charmed and perfect life ever to be beset a child under heaven," to "I'll try my best to let my child feel how utterly she is loved and adored and wanted." I'll teach her how to keep on keepin' on. To forgive. To give. And maybe, during the continuum of her life, she will know more acceptance than heartache; more joy than disappointment; more kinship than loneliness; more hope than fear.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
But this I can guarantee: she will know love.
Perspective II
My name is Squiggles. I am almost 3 months old! During my mortal probation, I have been busy eating, eating, and eating. Sometimes I eat for 2 or 3 hours straight... that's Actually how I got fat. Check out the Michelins on my thighs!
I went to the doctor's Monday, and I weigh 11 pounds! I've also ditched my conditions of being orange and acne-fied. Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Week 4
We've been trying to give Amelia more tummy time. She likes it as much as her mother likes anchovies. As in... willing to give it (them) a shot, but is filled with horror after a few seconds.Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Week 3
He said she was doing much better than he would expect for a baby born so early, and that she continues to be a "star." He also said we could start putting rubbing alcohol on her cord to expedite its departure from her person. I think she just wanted to hold onto a little piece of me.
We've enjoyed relaxing at Grandpa and Grandma's especially because Grandma has a hot dinner on the table every night and insists on doing dishes herself... what a pleasant introduction to motherhood - all I have to do is feed the baby, and cuddle with her and my husband.Thursday, May 13, 2010
Week 2
A couple days after my milk came in (which took almost a week), Amelia became strong enough to stop using the SNS line. She started gaining weight rather than losing it, so Dr. O'dell let us take the IV out of her forehead. One of the nurses immediately replaced it with a bow, much to Tim's chagrin (they used KY gel to make it stick, which is really difficult to remove from skin once dried). I was happy to hold her without worrying that I would inadvertantly rip the line from her head and scar her for life.
On Sunday, the doctor told us that Amelia was almost ready to go home. He said she could go home either Monday or Tuesday, and we opted for Tuesday. It was bittersweet news - on the one hand, it would be nice to take her home and cuddle with her as long as we pleased. On the other hand, as much as I hated all the lines and IVs and monitors, there was a certain comfort in knowing that if she stopped breathing or pumping blood through her body, a team of specialists was within ten feet who could come resuscitate her. Hospitals have strict rules about taking home your child - especially for preemies. The night before her discharge, she had to sit in her carseat for 2 hours while connected to all her monitors to make sure the carseat angles wouldn't impede her ability to stay alive. If she had any "episodes" (heart rate lowering, etc.), she would fail. Luckily, she passed the first time. I sat and watched her the entire time, just in case the monitors failed. We laughed a lot the first time we put her in a car seat... she looked even tinier than usual.

Even though Amelia was finally gaining weight, Dr. O'dell was a little nervous that she wasn't getting as much as she could be, so he instructed us to supplement her nursing with 40-50 mls pumped breastmilk every other feeding, and 2 ounces of a special preemie formula once a day. We could have used the SNS system, but since I have to go back to work eventually, we decided to introduce bottle feeding instead at that point (don't worry, we were working with a lactation specialist). If she had started to reject my breast, we would have discontinued bottles for a while. Happily, this has never been a problem.
Finally the happy and terrifying moment came... we took our little sweetheart "home" to my parents' house. We decided not to fly back to Boston immediately since her lungs were still premature compared to full-term babies, so we stayed with my parents for a few weeks. We were so luckly to have friends and family who showered us with baby clothes, quilts, and burp cloths. In addition, a special woman named Shawna let us borrow a bassinette - I have no idea what we would have done otherwise.

We were under strict orders to let the baby sleep as much as possible and cry as little as possible so that she could use all her energy buidling the fat stores that are so necessary in order to regulate her body temperature. We were also under strict orders to severely limit her contact with other humans. We did pretty well, but did have a few very special visitors, including...
My good friend / cousin Marsha:
A close up:
My brother Lance and his wife Dani, who were really, really good about coming to visit us. They both brought various baked goods and treats to help fatten me up, which in turn helped fatten Amelia up. Actually, I probably didn't need to be fattened up, but I ate the doughnuts, cinnamon bread, and other treats just to be safe.

My friend Melinda, who grew up across the street from us and is like a sister, came several times and kept bringing presents. She said she just couldn't stop. We went to the Walmart where she works, and she called all of her coworkers over to see the baby. A few minutes later, a complete stranger tracked us down in the diaper aisle and said, "Melinda said I had to come see your baby."
While we were in the hospital, Amelia wore preemie-sized clothes provided by the NICU. When we came home, we realized we only had a couple preemie outfits, so we went to every store in Cache Valley and bought every preemie outfit we could find. Unfortunately, preemie sizes are hard to come by, so we ended up buying several outfits meant for boys. When she was wearing such outfits, my mom would say, "Oh, what a beautiful baby boy you have."





















