the girl | matching tracksuits

Enter: LMS, Part V :: Birth

Tuesday 09 January 2007 | 0 Comments

One two, one two -- chop chop! There's a sense of urgency to the arrival at the hospital that I've never experienced before. Yet, strangely calm urgency.

We get to the emergency room and the attendant grabs a wheelchair for K and I head back out to park the car. By the time I come virtually sprinting into the birthing room, K is on the bed, a nurse is getting a vast array of implements ready, and we're all wondering when the midwife is going to arrive.

The nurse hooks up the two belts around K's belly that measure the contractions and L's heartbeat. She goes over some paperwork with K ("Would you refuse any particular type of medical intervention on religious grounds?" and the like) and then the midwife comes in. This is something like her 1,600th birth -- she's calm, calm, calm.

Contractions continue. Questions continue. More nurses come in and prepare a tray covered with various "sharps" -- scissors, scalpels, needles, and a few things that look more Inquisitorial than medical.

Paperwork complete and sharps in place, it's time to get K to the tub. I glance at my watch -- it's something like 6:40 am. We've only been there a little over forty minutes. Things are going so fast that it's difficult for me to keep everything in perspective.

Once K's in the, everything calms. K relaxes so much -- and is so exhausted -- that she actually begins falling asleep between contractions, which are coming with more frequency and lasting longer. I begin thinking, "Forget this hours in labor stuff -- we're having this baby within a few minutes."

Close.

Through this all, K's constant question: "When will I know to push?" The midwife, the nurses, everyone (except the only man in the room) respond with a reassuring laugh: "Oh, you'll know." One compared it to the feeling you get when you absolutely have to have a BM and there's no toilet around. Nothing like a metaphor even the man can understand.

Sure enough, within a few minutes, K says, "I think I need to push." And push she does, probably a total of less than ten times.

At 8:05, L makes her appearance, covered in cheesy Vernix caseosa, which the midwife advises K to use as lotion around her eyes. Her eyes, not L's. "It's the best moisturizer in nature," she explained.

Within minutes, K's in the bed, with L lying on her chest, and G standing around in a daze...

Latching

Monday 08 January 2007 | 0 Comments

When she's hungry, she'll latch onto almost anything...

Kisses for Papa

Sunday 07 January 2007 | 0 Comments

When L's upset, she starts rooting like mad.

Occasionally, it looks like kisses.

Christmas Pictures

Wednesday 03 January 2007 | 0 Comments

The other night we tried to take a picture of L in front of the Christmas tree. We figured that this would be the last night we'd have an opportunity. I took a few with the flash, and then I tried to get some without.

And of course, she began moving. Like mad. (As always, click on the picture for more images at Flickr.)

Psie smutki

Sunday 31 December 2006 | 0 Comments

I dislike my translation very much. There's no child's voice in it, no simplicity. But it gives you the idea of what the poem's about...

On the bank of a sky-blue river
live many small sorrows.
The first is sad because
he can't play in the garden.
The second -- that water doesn't want to be dry.
The third -- that a fly flew into his ear.
And what's more, that cats scratch,
That he can't catch the hen,
That he can't bite the neighbor's leg,
and that it never rains sausages,
And the last sorrow is that
People travel by cars, and a pup has to go on foot.
But just give him a little milk,
and bye bye sorrows.

Na brzegu błÄ™kitnej rzeczki
MieszkajÄ… małe smuteczki.
Ten pierwszy jest z tego powodu,
Å»e nie wolno wchodziÄ‡ do ogrodu,
Drugi - Å¼e woda nie chce byÄ‡ sucha,
Trzeci - Å¼e mucha wleciała do ucha,
A jeszcze, Å¼e kot musi drapaÄ‡,
Å»e kura nie daje siÄ™ złapaÄ‡,
Å»e nie moÅ¼na gryÅºÄ‡ w nogÄ™ sÄ…siada
I Å¼e z nieba kiełbasa nie spada,
A ostatni smuteczek jest o to,
Å»e człowiek jedzie, a piesek musi biec piechotÄ….
Lecz wystarczy pieskowi daÄ‡ mleczko
I juÅ¼ nie ma smuteczków nad rzeczkÄ….

Bajka iskierki

Friday 29 December 2006 | 6 Comments

I’ve put together a new video. For the music, I chose one of the most widely known Polish lullabies: “Bajka iskierka” (“An Ember’s Bedtime Story”). It’s a modern-ish version by Polish pop stars Grzegorz Turnau and Magda Umer.

An Ember’s Bedtime Story
Traditional Melody, Words by Janina PoraziÅ„ska

From the fire’s ashes
an ember is winking at WojtuÅ›.
“Come! I’ll tell you a bedtime story,
A long fairy tale.

“There once was a princess
who fell in love with a minstrel
The king gave them a wedding,
And that’s the end of the story.

“Long ago lived Baba Jaga.
She lived in a hut made of butter.
And in this house all was enchantment.”
Psst! The ember’s died.

From the fire’s ashes
an ember is winking at WojtuÅ›.
“Come! I’ll tell you a bedtime story,
A long fairy tale.”

Hush! WojtuÅ› won’t believe you anymore,
little ember.
You flicker but for a moment,
then you die.

And that’s the whole fairy tale.

Z popielnika na Wojtusia
iskiereczka mruga:
Chod?, opowiem ci bajeczk?,
bajka b?dzie d?uga.

By?a sobie raz krï¿½lewna,
pokocha?a grajka,
Krï¿½l wyprawi? im wesele
i sko?czona bajka.

By?a sobie Baba Jaga
mia?a chatk? z mas?a,
a w tej chatce same dziwy!
Psstï¿½ Iskierka zgas?a.

Z popielnika na Wojtusia
iskiereczka mruga:
Chod?, opowiem ci bajeczk?,
bajka b?dzie d?uga.

Ju? ci Wojtu? nie uwierzy,
iskiereczko ma?a.
Chwilk? b?y?niesz,
potem zga?niesz.

Ot i bajka ca?a.

With Grandfather

Thursday 28 December 2006 | 0 Comments

Enter: LMS, Part IV :: A Brief, Predictable Interlude

Wednesday 27 December 2006 | 0 Comments

All my life, I've had an impossible, unlikely scenario in my head: driving my laboring wife to the hospital, I get pulled over by the police for speeding.

We're about eight miles from the hospital. It's early Saturday morning. There'll be no traffic, so I decide we'll forget the back routes (which are really a touch longer, but less traveled) and go the main way.

About a mile down the road, we realize K doesn't have her wallet. We go back, get the wallet, and start again.

K is groaning and begging me to hurry; the road is deserted; I speed up and do between 65 and 70 mph on a quiet highway with a speed limit of 45 mph.

As I near the intersection with the main road in town, the highway curves gently to the right, slightly downhill.

On the left side of the street is an Ingles. In a small darkened access road to the left sits a car. I know what it is immediately.

We come to the stop light, and I look in the rear view mirror -- there he sits, though his lights are not on. I decided I'll go ahead and pull over preemptively, but when the light turns green, his lights turn on. I pull over.

Fortunately, the officer is reasonable and lets me go with a warning to drive carefully.

But no offer to escort me? Come on! That's not how we all envision it!

Enter: LMS, Part III :: 4 a.m., Saturday

Tuesday 26 December 2006 | 0 Comments

K awakens me with the news: “I think my water broke.”

Again, from birthing classes, we know that this is not a sign to rush to the hospital immediately. There are still no contractions, and the trick for knowing when to go to the hospital is 4-1-1 — contractions which are four minutes apart, last for one minute each, and continue like this for one hour.

“All this is part of early labor,” the birthing instructor informed us weeks ago. “This could last for hours, and it’s important for mothers to be as relaxed as possible. Go for a walk. Take a hot bath. Watch your favorite movie,” her advice continued.

We’d decided we’d watch My Big, Fat Greek Wedding — a movie about an amusing clash of cultures not entirely unlike what my family experienced at our own, Polish wedding.

But who wants to watch a movie at four in the morning?

K decides to call the midwife, just to make sure everything is fine. She learns that we need to meet at the hospital by eight if nothing has happened. “If contractions do not begin within four hours of water breaking, we’ll need to induce labor,” she explains.

We begin last minute preparations for our big adventure.

Once everything is packed, I come back to the computer and publish the pre-prepared post about going to the hospital. I set the time for eight, figuring that no matter what, we’d be on our way by then.

As I’m finishing up, K informs me that her first contraction has hit. It’s 4:15 a.m., and the contraction lasts about fifteen seconds, and about four minutes later, the second hits, also fifteen seconds.

Four minutes later, the third: about thirty-five seconds.

Four minutes later, the fourth: about forty-five seconds.

K tells me we’re going to the hospital within a few minutes. I’m still skeptical.

A little over an hour later, at 5:30, we leave for the hospital.