Family Field Trip

On Wednesday, we finally ventured out of the house as a family and were joined by Mom and Vickie to visit the full size model of the James Webb Space Telescope, which was on display in Baltimore's Inner Harbor.  Those who've been following our blog for a while will remember that Billy has been working on developing the telescope's computer ground support system for the past three and a half years.  After seeing plenty of computerized mock-ups of how the telescope will look, we couldn't pass up the chance to see what it will look like when it unfolds in space.

The outing also felt like a good first trip for our family, since the family-friendly policies at the Space Telescope Science Institute allow Billy to spend Nora's first seven weeks at home helping to care for her.  It's hard to believe that she'll be at least seven years old when the telescope launches, but it was fun to imagine how much she will know about space and the telescope itself by that time.  We hope that someday the JWST will radically change the way we understand our universe, as Hubble has done before it, and we look forward to showing Nora these photos once JWST is a household name, too.

Little Brown Head

Most people comment that when they look at Nora's full head of hair, they see her dad.  But when I look at her full head of hair, I see my dad.

Dad left each of us a letter to read once he passed away.  In the first sentence of the letter he left me, Dad writes that he "loved me since the first time he saw (my) little brown head."  I knew Billy had also been born with a full head of brown hair, so even though I tried not to get my hopes up, I was going to be heartbroken if Nora was born bald.  I knew that if she came out with a little brown head, it would remind me that my dad is with me always, even though he will never get to meet her.

But Nora did not disappoint.  The first thing said by the first person who saw her was a comment on her little brown head.  Dr. Penn told me she had "a lot of long dark brown hair."  This is probably a big part of the reason why I found pushing to be the best part of childbirth, even though it was the worst part in terms of pain.  As soon as I knew she had hair, I was reminded that she belonged to me and Billy and that we made her.  But I was also reminded that the love we have for her would be the newest iteration of a love that our parents have had for us since we were born with our own little brown heads.

When Dad's cancer returned in 2007, I was working on my Master's degree applications, and I wrote to him that the diagnosis made me feel badly that I did not plan to have kids until after I finished that degree.  He responded:
I'd hate for you to give up on dreams and hopes just to try to hit some expectation on my end.  I feel fortunate to have lovely children and energy to spend time knowing them as adults.  Little kids are forever, you need to be ready and happy with your decision for your reasons, not mine.  I haven't asked, pushed, or pressed for just that reason...regardless of health.  You'll be a marvelous parent when the time is right, and Billy will be a great dad.  When the time is right.

The time is right now, Dad.  I just wish you were here to love her little brown head, too.  But don't worry.  It only took me two days after I had her home to tell her "Hands over head!" while trying to get her dressed, so I know that in some ways, being a parent will bring me closer to you than ever.

Oscar and his Baby Sister

All things considered, Oscar is doing very well at adjusting to having baby Nora in the house.

While we were in the hospital with Nora, Oscar was staying with Billy's Aunt Nancy, as he always does when we are away.  After our two night stay, she let us know that he had been acting like he was in pain, and that day he seemed to be having a particularly bad time.  Billy brought him home, and though he was better at our house, something was clearly wrong with him.  We had to wait until the vet opened the following day for them to see him, and it was hard on us to see him having such a hard time on Nora's first day at home.  The vet visit revealed that he slipped a disc in his back, so he has been on a steroid and muscle relaxer regimen ever since, though he is almost finished with the medications.  He's had a few setbacks, but overall he seems to be feeling better.  He seems older to us, though, and his days of going up and down the stairs might be over.

This has made it hard to tell if he is melancholy because he doesn't feel well or if it is bothering him that he is not getting as much attention as he is used to receiving.  In either case, he has been really great with Nora.  At first, every noise she made piqued his attention and he got very upset anytime she cried.  Now he is pretty used to her noises, but he still comes into the nursery to investigate when she starts to wail while getting her diaper changed.  We've noticed that he is a bit protective of her in other ways, too.  A few times when other family members have been holding her near the door, he seems to be standing guard to make sure they don't take her away.  He likes to come lay near us or on our legs when we are holding Nora, and though he sometimes sniffs her, he hasn't tried to bother her at all.

I keep promising him that when she gets big enough, Nora is going to give him enough attention to make up for the attention she's stealing right now.  I sure hope his back continues to heal and he continues to feel better, though, because it makes me sad to see him sad and I miss my rambunctious, stubborn little buddy.

How Nora Jane Got Her Name

For the past few years, Billy and I have been tossing around baby names and have a few narrowed down... for boys.  When we found out we were having a girl, we had no idea where to start, but we did have a set of requirements.  We've both spent our entire lives clarifying our names ("Elizabeth?" "Here, but it's Liz"), so we have always wanted to give our kids names that did not lend themselves to nicknames.  We also have common names, so we want our children to have names that are fairly uncommon without being too obscure.  We felt like our daughter would be kind, thoughtful, and probably a little nerdy but with plenty of spunk, so we had to find a name that seemed like it would fit those characteristics.  Obviously, the name had to sound good with our last name, and there were plenty of names we couldn't consider because we had bad associations with them (especially since I taught high school for several years).  I also had a few other less important preferences: I thought it would be cool to give the baby a name with a good literary heritage, and I was hoping there would be a nice song featuring the name.

So we developed a system for considering first names.  We would search for and think about names we each liked, and when we found one, we'd propose it to one another.  If one of us suggested a name the other also liked, we'd "put it on the list."  Once there were around five names on "the list," we actually wrote the list down and Billy and I ranked the names separately.  If any name ranked too low between the two of us, we'd take it off the list, and if we found new names we liked, we'd add them.  (I hope people are laughing to themselves after reading this description.  I'm pretty sure most people do not develop an analytic formula for baby naming, but it is definitely the kind of thing we would do.)  Sometime in May, I suggested "Nora" and was excited when Billy told me to add it to the list, but we hadn't yet re-ranked the names, so I wasn't sure where it stood with him.

Nora was my personal favorite when I went to California for Dad's Lompoc memorial.  While I was there I stayed in Mimi and Papa's middle bedroom, and Mimi told me that a woman in one of the photos was a relative of ours from a few generations ago named Nora.  This caught my attention because I didn't know we had any Noras in the family.  The next day, when Billy and I were talking on the phone, he said "You know, my mom mentioned the name Nora, and I was thinking I really do like that name the best so far."  So I said "That's funny, because my grandmother showed me a picture of a family member named Nora yesterday, and I thought the same thing."  So we decided that Nora would be our preliminary frontrunner.  The last time I'd been in Lompoc by myself, Billy and I had decided independently of one another that it was time to get married.  I came home from the time apart and told him we should get my ring finger sized, and he responded by laughing because he had already purchased my ring while I was away.  Clearly, decisions we make after considering them separately while I am in Lompoc turn out to be good decisions. : )

So after Nora became the frontrunner, I discovered a whole series of reasons I liked the name:
Nora is well outside the top 100 names for the past few years, and its even less common in our part of the country.
Nora in Henrik Ibsen's "A Doll's House" is a woman ahead of her time.  When she realizes that her husband treats her like an object (a doll, specifically), she leaves the marriage, claiming she needs to figure out who she is and what she should do with her life.  I don't want my daughter to feel like she has to live an unsatisfying life in order to accommodate societal norms, either.
Nora Barnacle was James Joyce's life partner, muse, and eventually his wife.  My favorite story about them is that he once wrote "I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere.  I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women."  It reminds me that the longer I am married, the more I realize that the true nature of intimacy is rarely captured in cliche phrases but can sometimes be expressed in the most bizarre ways.
Nick and Nora Charles are a married crime fighting duo in the "The Thin Man" film series.  I don't know these movies well, but I understand that they have a dynamic partnership and Nora is a bit of a firecracker.  Plus, my grandfather loves these movies.
One of the baby naming websites claims that Nora might come from the Arabic word "noor" which means light.  Billy and I both liked this idea, since her conception and impending arrival was a light for us, and especially for my family, during the very dark time following my dad's death.  (Incidentally, it doesn't matter to me that I don't believe this is where the name comes from-- I think it's mostly a disambiguation of Eleanor or Honora.)

So after Nora held frontrunner status for a few weeks, Billy and I were looking at wood letters at Michael's craft store when Billy said "Let's get the letters for Nora's name."  "Does that mean we are officially deciding on Nora?" I asked, and he said yes.  It just seemed like the right choice.

Deciding on a middle name felt much more difficult.  We ruled out names that started with vowels because we didn't want her initials to read NOD, NAD, or NED.  We searched high and low for names we liked that sounded good with Nora and found that we liked single syllable middle names best.  We decided there are two very notable times that a child's full name are used: when she is in trouble and when her name is announced at graduations.  We practiced saying the name pairings we liked in the tones of voice used on each of these occasions.  I had originally suggested Jane because it sounds like the female version of James, which is the middle name that is shared by my brother, my dad, and my grandfather.  I also liked that this would make her initials NJ, which are my brother's initials, since Nora would be the first child of her generation in our families just like he is.  We weren't sure, though.  I think it was one night while watching Louis C.K.'s tv show, which features a plucky young daughter character named Jane, that I said "Billy, I really think I just like Nora Jane the most" and he agreed that it was the best combination we had come up with.  We felt so relieved to have chosen a middle name that we decided, once and for all, that Nora Jane would be her name.

After we announced her name, people began asking us if we were going to call her "Nora Jane" or just "Nora."  For me, that felt like proof that the names we'd chosen sounded right together.  And though there may not be a love song about a sparkplug named Nora, I can still sing our little one to sleep by changing the lyrics of the James Taylor song to "Rockabye, sweet Nora Jane."

And now that I've finally gotten her to sleep for the third time tonight, and finished this blog post I've been piecing together for three days, I can get a bit more rest before her doctor's visit.  : )

Update:  My grandmother informs me that the Nora in the photo in her middle bedroom is her father's mother-- or, in other words, our baby Nora's Great Great Great Grandmother.  : )

Nora's Birth Story

On Thursday, October 13, Billy and I went to my OB for my 39 week check-up.  We were seen by a doctor we hadn't met yet, and though our experience with my OB group has otherwise been very positive, we were discouraged when she told me I had an "unfavorable cervix."  After the visit, I emailed  an update to my mom and a few others, telling them I was upset because I felt I was progressing even if this OB didn't. I ended the email with "Then again, maybe Baby D was just looking for a chance to prove someone wrong, and this visit will speed her up."  Famous last words!

A few hours later, at 12:30am, I woke up in pain.  After deciding these contractions might be the real thing, I woke Billy up to have him time them for me.  Most of the contractions were about 5 minutes apart, but they were not a full minute long, and their length and duration varied.  I told him to go back to sleep, and though I tried to do the same, the pain was too distracting, so I got up and started getting things together for the hospital.  Around 5:30am I woke Billy up to keep track again, and by then the contractions were very regular.  At 6:30, I was trying to decide how long I'd wait before calling the doctor when I experienced a very strong contraction and my water broke.  Decision made!  As soon as the doctor heard that my water had broken, she told me to come to the hospital.  Billy and I finished getting things together, called Vickie, and headed to the hospital.

After being admitted by the triage nurse, we were anxious to see which doctor would be coming on call at 8am and were excited when Dr. Penn popped in to ask, "Are we going to have a baby today?"  Billy and I had appreciated his good humor, laid back attitude, and straightforward answers in our office visits with him.  I was similarly thrilled when the initial check revealed that I was already between 3 and 4 centimenters dilated.  We met our delivery nurse, Lora, who got us into a birthing room. Vickie arrived shortly thereafter to offer her support.  Though I had been nervous about the medical staff respecting my wishes regarding a natural childbirth, Lora and Dr. Penn were extremely supportive of my requests.  I was put on intermittent fetal monitoring, I was given a heparin lock but was not attached to an IV, and I was given one of the largest delivery rooms, which allowed me plenty of room to move around.  I was also permitted to walk around on the floor as much as I wanted.

From that point onward, my sense of time became fairly disoriented and my memories of labor are not particularly linear.  The contractions grew increasingly worse, as I expected they would.  It also became more and more difficult for me to endure contractions while sitting or lying down.  While kneeling over the bed or standing, the pain was fairly isolated in my belly, but if I was sitting or lying, the pain surged up through my whole body and burned around my tailbone.  The strategies I'd learned helped me endure the contractions in the standing and kneeling positions, but those positions made it difficult to relax in between contractions, so I felt myself getting worn out.  I also hadn't slept well Wednesday night, and hadn't taken a nap Thursday, so I felt like I was more exhausted than normal before I even went into labor.

The support I got from Billy and Vickie did the most to help me endure the difficult contractions.  Billy helped me remember the things we'd learned in childbirth class, gave me periodic suggestions, and gave me constant reassurance that I was doing a good job.  Vickie encouraged me to hang in there, and her medical knowledge and calming presence made me feel at ease when interacting with the hospital staff.  Both of them were there to support me physically, as well, whether I needed a reassuring touch to help me relax or a strong shoulder to brace against during a bad contraction.  They also helped ease my tension and anxiety, and hearing them casually interact with one another helped to take my mind off the pain.

The other thing that helped me endure were the mental strategies I had been preparing for the past few months.  Our childbirth instructor told us to remember that "an intense contraction is an effective contraction," so I repeated that to myself when the pain got bad.  It also helped to visualize my cervix thinning and opening up as a result of the pain.  When it got hard to breathe, it helped to recall all those times I've been on long runs and have willed myself to keep going.  I also imagined the contractions as similar to weightlifting sets at the gym.  When it began to feel like too much pain, I kept telling myself just get through two more contractions.

After several hours of laboring in the hospital, though, it did get to be too much for me.  I asked if I could get into the tub in hopes that it might relieve some of the pressure, but my doctor asked me not to do that because my water had broken so many hours prior and he did not want me to risk infection.  I asked for a cervical exam because I was beginning to feel like I needed some pain medication, and I was discouraged when they told me I'd only progressed to around 5 or maybe 6cm dilation.  Lora told me that Dr. Penn had ordered me a dose of an analgesic pain medication that could be administered via IV if I needed it, but because I knew about the risks associated with the drug and the way it crosses the placenta to reach the baby, I told Lora I wanted to keep trying to make it without the medicine.

At that point, I kind of withdrew within myself to give some serious thought to the decision.  I was very committed to a natural childbirth because of the benefits it affords the baby.  But I also promised myself early in my research that if I passed the point of being able to endure the contractions, and I found myself suffering through the contractions, I would allow myself to get some help.  The contractions continued to get worse, and the pain in my belly was soon accompanied by intense pain in my back no matter what position I tried.  I knew that the analgesic was supposed to help ease the pain of the contractions but should not interfere with my ability to feel what was going on.  Ever since we'd gotten to the hospital, the fetal monitoring revealed that Nora was in great shape, so this helped me feel better about getting the medication.  Plus, I thought she might even benefit if her mom was having an easier time.  When another cervical exam revealed that I was around 6cm dilated, I knew taking a dose of the medicine at that point, rather than continuing to wait, would maximize the amount of time my body had to metabolize the drug before Nora was born.  I hoped this would minimize any impact it could have on her.  Eventually, there was no way for me to deny that I was suffering, so I asked for the medication.

I felt the effects of the analgesic immediately after it was administered through my IV.  For the first 20 minutes or so, I was kind of out of it and I was saying goofy things to Billy and Vickie.  Thereafter, I still felt intense pain during the contractions and had to rely on my coping strategies to endure them, but it was much easier for me to relax and rest between contractions.  I feel like this gave me the renewed energy I needed to be able to make it through the transition phase of labor.  When I could feel Nora's head dropping fairly quickly, I asked to be checked again because I felt sure that it was time to push.  Dr. Penn told me that I needed to wait a while longer, so it was a huge relief around 3:15pm when he finally told me I could try to push.  Vickie then left Billy to care for me so he and I could be alone when our baby was born.

I only had to push for around 20 minutes, and this was far and away the most painful and most rewarding portion of labor for me.  For the first time during my pregnancy, I felt like I was actually in control of what was happening to my body and my baby's.  I could not believe how loud I was screaming until Lora suggested I direct that energy toward pushing.  When Nora's head became visible to Dr. Penn, he told me she had a lot of long brown hair.  From that point onward, I knew I was birthing the baby I had imagined in my head and I became a woman on a mission.  Everyone encouraged me so much, and I could feel how much progress I was making while pushing during each contraction.  This helped me keep pushing harder and enduring the extreme pain.  Billy surprised me by choosing to watch Nora emerge, and this meant he could also give me verbal affirmation that I was getting close.  He also confirmed that she came out in the posterior position, which helped explain the back pain I experienced during contractions.  While I was pushing and could feel Nora passing through the birth canal, I was hit full force by the realization that I was bringing a baby into the world, and I experienced a stronger sense of accomplishment than I've ever known before.

Then, all of the sudden, I'd pushed enough, Nora was born, and Billy was cutting the cord.  I looked over at Billy, who had an expression of pure joy on his face, and I was overwhelmed by the realization that we had created a real, live, human.  They let me hold Nora as long as I wanted before weighing and measuring her to confirm that she was perfectly healthy and alert.  By then, Vickie had come back, so she was able to share in our excitement.  Then they gave Nora back so I could nurse her for the first time, and I was so relieved when the techniques I'd researched and Nora's instincts worked together to result in a very successful first breast feeding.

I was overwhelmed again when I was there with Billy, Vickie, and Nora, and I realized that even though things hadn't gone exactly according to my birth plan, I had a healthy baby and I had gotten to experience childbirth in a way that was very meaningful to me.  I anticipate that I'll try to have a natural childbirth again next time, and I hope I'll be able to do it, but I still feel confident that I made the right decisions for me and for Nora this time. I realize how much good fortune it takes for a baby to be born healthy, and how many strokes of luck it takes for the baby's birth to go as the mother plans, so I know how fortunate I am that I got to come away from the delivery room with a healthy, beautiful baby and a rewarding birth experience.  Plus, my recovery has thus far been so quick and painless that I can't imagine birthing a baby any different way.

Patti had been waiting in the waiting room for the better part of the day, so she joined us in the delivery room shortly thereafter, and it was not long before Chuck and Brian also arrived at the hospital and were admitted to the delivery room.  It was fun to share Nora's name for the first time and see how excited they all were about her arrival.  Vickie and Billy began texting people to let them know Nora had been born, the first picture of her began circulating on facebook, and I got a chance to talk to Mom and Nate after we were settled in our recovery room.  I guess that is where the story of Nora's birth ends, and where the story of her life begins. : )  We can't wait to see all the fantastic things her life has in store for her and for us!

We did it!  Nora and her Mama shortly after childbirth.

Welcome Tour

In the one short week since Nora joined our family, she has met new members of that family nearly every single day!  We hope she realizes how much she is loved and will someday look back and recognize how much enthusiasm surrounded her birth.  It has certainly meant a lot to me and Billy to discover just how much joy she has brought into the life of our family already.

Mama and Daddy

Aunt Vickie and Uncle Brian; Nora also got to meet Uncle Nate and Ashley on video chat!

Grandpa Chuck and Grandma Patti (actual grandparent nicknames yet to be determined!)

Grandma Debi and Big Brother Oscar

Great Grandma Vera and Great Aunt Mary

We've tried to snap photos of each meet and greet, but inevitably we've missed a few moments.  Nora has also had welcome home visits from her Great Grandma Mabel, cousins Heather and Kristen, and Great Uncle Gary.  We can't wait until everyone else gets to meet her, too!

Introducing Nora Jane!

Welcome to the world, baby girl!  Nora Jane was born on Friday, October 14 at 3:38pm.  She arrived weighing 7 pounds, 6 ounces, measuring 19 inches, and sporting a full head of dark brown hair!

Billy and I feel fortunate that Nora continues to reveal herself to be a happy, healthy, hungry baby.  We have been touched by the outpouring of love and excitement our family and friends have shown for our little one and for us, and we are thankful that Nora has been born into such a strong support system.  Her arrival has brought us so much joy, and knowing she has brought joy to so many others further enhances our excitement about becoming her parents.

Thanks for making the transition to the new blog!  In the weeks to come, I hope to find the time to share more about our new family life, including Nora's birth story, how we chose her name, how we are adjusting to having her at home, and plenty more pictures!  A few days in, I've learned that spare moments can be found here and there, but the days of sitting in front of the computer to draft long, thoughtful blog posts might be over.  So though the posts may be shorter, I hope to keep them coming when I can.  Thanks for reading and for helping us celebrate our new addition!

Ramona and Her Father

Today marks 39 weeks, so we're only one week away from the baby's due date!  Our weekly OB visits continue to go well, and I continue to feel fairly well considering how far along I am.  The little one still squirms around as much as she can, and her movements have been so consistent for the past week or so that I think she has settled into a single position for the duration.  I continue to frequently experience strong Braxton-Hicks contractions that I hope are getting my uterus primed for real labor!

One of the ways I have been keeping myself occupied is by re-reading the Ramona Quimby books I recently checked out from the library.  I loved these books as a child.  I must have read them all prior to fourth grade because I can remember that when Mom and Dad told us we were moving to Portland, I decided that living where Ramona lived would not be too bad.   As soon as I found out we were having a girl, I wanted to re-read these books because I had so much in common with Ramona that I figure my daughter will, too.  Ramona is just as endearingly awkward and relatable as I remembered.

The book I remember best is Ramona and Her Father.  In this one, Ramona's father loses his job, and Ramona has to learn how to deal with how his mood changes as a result of being out of work.  I think I remember this best because my dad left his job when I was in 8th grade and ended up being unemployed for much longer than he anticipated.  I can remember reflecting back on Ramona's experience when I found myself in a similar one.  I also remember that one of the things Ramona's dad did with her while he was jobless was to roll out a giant piece of paper and draw a picture on it with her.

What I did not remember is what Ramona and her dad drew.  They drew the state of Oregon, and while Ramona began with the Interstate Bridge, her dad started by drawing Mt. Hood.  When she looks at her dad's drawing, she finds that "sure enough he had drawn Mt. Hood peaked with a hump on the south side exactly the way it looked in real life on the days when the clouds lifted" (113).  My dad loved Mt. Hood.  He loved the days in the winter when the mountain was visible from West Linn.  This is exactly where my dad would have begun if he had started drawing a picture of Oregon.  So while today marks exactly 9 months since my dad passed away, and these milestones feel significant, it is during the moments like reading this paragraph that I miss my dad the most.  I am so thankful to be reminded of him, and so comforted by having so many positive memories of him, and yet I am simultaneously choked with grief at the reminder that he is gone.

The other thing that I find exceptionally difficult is coming across my dad's handwriting unexpectedly.  Dad had the most distinctive handwriting of anyone I know.  This happened to me on Monday when, exactly one year to the day from the day he left for Chile, I stumbled upon the postcard he sent to our house from the trip.

Finding the card made me acknowledge what a big difference a single year can make.  It also helped remind me that I should try harder to make the most of these last few days before the baby arrives, even though I wish she would just get here already, because as soon as she does the years are going to speed by even faster than ever.

(And I know this post will provoke the question, but the baby's name is not going to be Ramona.  I do love this name and I did propose it early in the baby naming conversations, but Billy thought we should go with a name we both liked. : ) )

A Team for America

Yesterday, we attended what is likely to be our final Navy football game of the season.  They play again at home on October 22, and though it's possible Baby D will not have arrived by then, I doubt I will want to sit through a football game when I'm over 40 weeks pregnant.

Last week's game was cold and drizzly, so it was nice to have a return of perfect weather this week.  Our friends Amy and Brian left their nearly 9 month old daughter Jenna with Amy's parents, so it was fun to have them join us for part of the tailgate.  As new parents themselves, they had some funny stories to share with us about their first few months with Jenna.  Navy was playing Southern Mississippi, and we ended up parked next to a whole group of their fans, but they turned out to be super friendly.  I was sorry I could not partake in the Bourbon Slush they shared with us and Billy was sorry that his recently developed shrimp allergy prevented him from enjoying some of the jambalaya they spent the entire morning concocting on the grill.

We snapped a few pictures, so I thought I'd share those.

 

Once the game started, we were extra glad the weather was so delightful because Navy's play left much to be desired.  The Mids drove the ball all the way down the field, but after they were stopped at the goal line, Southern Mississippi blocked the field goal attempt and ran it back for a touchdown.  From there, it just got worse.  Navy didn't look much like the team we are used to seeing, so we are hoping they can turn the season around quickly.  I wasn't too uncomfortable sitting in the stands, but I wasn't sorry to leave after the third quarter, either.

I love this picture of me and Billy at the game last year, and I thought it would be funny to recreate the same picture again yesterday to prove that my belly has reached ridiculous proportions.

Here's to hoping that next season, we can pose for the same photo again with me back in my favorite Navy tee and with little missy taking the place of the baby bump!

(A Team for America is a forthcoming book about what the 1944 Army Navy game meant to a country at war.  Sounds interesting!)

Baby Steps

I keep wondering if giving birth is going to turn out to be a lot like running a marathon.  I have a lot of time to wonder about this because I can no longer make it through the hours between 2am and 6am without being awake for at least three of them.  This overnight wakefulness is not a new feature of my pregnancy, and waking up during this period plagued me even before I became pregnant... but the length of time I'm awake and the discomfort I feel during this period have gotten much worse in the past few weeks.  I wake up needing to go to the bathroom.  Then I'm nauseous and hungry, even if I've risked heartburn by eating a snack before bed.  Then I'm still nauseous.  Then I cannot get comfortable, no matter how I sit or lie.  It's as though I am mentally strong enough to put my discomfort out of my mind during the day, but after I put my brain to rest for several hours, my body insists on calling attention to the fact that it has a full sized infant body inside it and that this state of being is not particularly pleasant for either of us.

So sometimes, when I'm not sleeping, I worry about how bad labor is going to be.  Then I get to thinking, even if it is miserable, it means the end is in sight.  Even if I have a whole slew of sleepless nights ahead of me, they will be of a different kind.  So maybe pregnancy will turn out to be a lot like marathon training.

When I was training for a marathon back in 2003, I spent the entire time unsure whether I would actually be able to finish the race or not.  As a result, I didn't miss a single one of the miles prescribed by my four month training program.  Even then, I was worried about the longest training run being over six miles shorter than the race.  What I didn't realize was that the daily rigors of preparing for the race would turn out to be much harder to endure than the race itself, at least for me.  If you can run 20 miles on your own through the empty streets of Valparaiso, you can most definitely run 26.2 miles alongside thousands of other people through the cheering crowds of Chicago.  The race itself, while much harder on my body than any single training run, was fueled by the adrenaline of finally making it to race day, the encouragement of the people I knew, and the excitement of knowing the finish line was finally in sight.

People think of a marathon as a long race because it's 26.2 miles long.  I thought of it this way, too, before I trained for one.  The marathon turned out to be a really long race, though, because on the first day I laced up my shoes, I had over 350 miles left to run before I reached that finish line.  Looking back, its no wonder I made it through the last 6.2 miles of the race that carried me beyond my longest training distance.  I'd already survived the difficulty of the 350+ that preceded them.

Pregnancy and marathon training are not exactly the same because pregnancy doesn't take the same kind of determination.  You can't wake up and think "No thanks, I will pass on being pregnant today because I feel miserable" before rolling back over.   You could, theoretically, wake up and decide "It's 5am, I will pass on getting up to run these eight miles before class" before rolling back over.  For me, though, the determination was never the problem.  I am so determined that it takes more effort for me to quit on something than to stick with it.  The thing that is hard for me is enduring the strain that possessing this kind of determination puts on me and my body.  And enduring my pregnancy has been at least as hard as enduring marathon training.

It might be really naive to think giving birth will be comparable to running the race.  Maybe labor will be so hard that I'll look back on things and think compared to childbirth, pregnancy was a breeze.  But I choose to ignore this possibility for now because worrying about it will do nothing to help me get through the obstacles that still stand before me.  What will help me get through the discomfort of these sleepless nights, and through labor, will be thinking of the birth as the last few painful steps in a long, difficult battle of endurance-- the only remaining steps I will have to take before someone hands me a baby.  Because while there is a lot of uncertainty at play here, I do feel confident that, as great as it was to be handed a finisher's medal and a foil blanket, being handed a baby will be much better.

(I don't know anything about this book, Baby Steps, but that felt like it had to be the title of this post.  And I don't care what this book is about, frankly, because it's nearly 5am and I'm finally feeling like I might be able to fall back asleep.  Goodnight!)

A Good Man is Hard to Find

Flannery O'Connor is right.  A good man is hard to find. Personally, I found it to be impossible.  I had to wait until a good man found me, but I sure am glad I did.

Today, on the heels of his excellent performance appraisal, Billy found out he has been promoted at work!  He has been taking on more managerial responsibilities each year since he started working at the STScI, and now that he has been named a Systems Integration and Test Engineer, his ascension up the ranks is official!  He even let Patti and Chuck meet us for dinner to mark the occasion, so I will not test his patience by going on and on about how proud of him I am.  But I am.  He deserves it.

While Billy is hard at work each day, Oscar and I are working on holding down the fort at home.  My gym routine was starting to leave me pretty exhausted, so I have scaled back to walking around the neighborhood, and nobody is happier about this development than Oscar.  Evidently it wears him out because he has been spending even more time than usual cuddled up in our bed.  I never cease to be entertained by how he tucks himself into the covers, props his head on pillows as if he were a human, and persists at nudging your legs into just the right position so he can maximize his comfort.

So it goes around our house.  We're ready for you whenever you're ready, Baby D!