Rawwwwr!

Happy Hallowe'en from the cutest monster ever!

He's too little to trick-or-treat and it's pouring rain outside, so he's just dressed up to hang around the house. But costumes are fun no matter what!

In the meantime...

I have a couple of restaurant reviews that I need to write up for you guys, but in the meantime, here are some recent photos of my 6-month-old cutie...

Four Months Old!

Odin turned four months old on Monday. I can't believe how time is flying by!

He's such a little person now. He is a squirmy-wormy, who loves to stand up (with assistance) and has been rolling over for a while now. He sucks his thumb and makes all sorts of cooing and gooing sounds. He blows raspberries and drools like nobody's business. He's getting better at going to sleep. He's a big flirt and loves when people pay lots of attention to him. He likes reading books, especially "Peekaboo Kisses" and "That's Not My Penguin". He loves his toys, particularly his rattle ball and Sophie Giraffe. He's sensitive and temperamental and likes things a certain way.

I love him more every day. I don't even know how that's possible...

Here are some recent photos:

The War Upon Wakefulness

Some parents are blessed with babies who sleep when they are tired. Others have babies who insist on being awake for everything, despite how tired and cranky they become. We land squarely in the second camp. Odin is a non-sleeper.

At this very moment I am listening to him fuss in his crib over the monitor. It's 7:00am. He's been awake since 5:30. This is typical, and better than a few nights ago, when he decided to start his day at 2:30am.

Daytime is the same. I hear legends of babies who, at 12 weeks, still sleep all the time. Books tell me he should be napping for at least an hour and a half three times a day. People tell me he should be sleeping through the night.

My baby is the type who fights sleep, literally. Just as he's starting to fall asleep he starts kicking and thrashing about, despite being swaddled into a compact little burrito. I take a kind of masochistic pride in the fact that he can escape any swaddle, including the expensive velcro swaddle blankets. I spend countless hours rocking and bouncing and patting his bum. I put him into his crib asleep, ever so gently so as not to wake him. He wakes up 10 minutes later. I put him into his crib awake but drowsy. He immediately starts crying. I let him cry in his crib for a while. He goes into hysterics and will not be consoled. We develop elaborate sleep rituals that work for three days in a row, giving me hope, then fail miserably on the fourth day and we have to start all over again. I have cried on the floor beside his crib. I have told him to shut up, then apologised. I have unapologetically yelled profanities at the monitor. I worry about the development of his brain.

All of this is hard to admit. There is enormous pressure to be the perfect parent with the perfect baby. Well, he is perfect, he just doesn't sleep.

Our birth story...

I wasn't originally going to post my birth story here, but reading a friend's eerily similar story on her blog made me want to share mine as well...

Odin Kirk Sheppard was born on April 27th at 5:38am at 41 weeks and 6 days. He had presented head-down and anterior for over month, then turned posterior about a week before birth.

I went for a Cervadil induction on Wednesday afternoon, and by that evening I was in full-blown back labour. I laboured at home until about 1am, when I was sure I was in active labour. Kirk paged our midwives and we went to the hospital to meet one of them. She examined me and told me I wasn't quite in active labour yet and that I wasn't yet dilated enough (I had asked that they not tell me dilation numbers). It was probably better to go home, as we live about 10 minutes from the hospital. So I continued labouring at home for another 12 hours with no real change. The back labour was pretty difficult, but I was breathing through the contractions and taking baths and coping pretty well. Kirk was doing an amazing job of taking care of me, even though I'm sure he was scared!

A midwife came to our house around 1:30 pm and did an internal exam. I was finally dilating! We went to the hospital again, and things really felt like they were progressing. I felt great, and even though my back was killing me and I couldn't get comfortable even between contractions, I was dealing with it. But by 6pm it became obvious that the baby was not turning, despite us trying every trick in the book - different positions, heat and cold, homeopathics... I also hadn't made any progress dilating since entering the hospital. We decided that we would try a synthetic oxytocin drip to strengthen contractions and hopefully turn the baby. The baby's heart rate dropped a bit when they first administered the oxytocin, but he quickly recovered and we carried on.

After about 6 or 7 hours of labouring, drug-free, on oxytocin, I was getting exhausted. It had been 45 hours since I'd had any sleep, and I'd been in labour for about 38 hours so far. I agreed to an epidural, hoping to get some sleep while they upped my dose of oxytocin. Unfortunately, as soon as the epidural went in (I couldn't even feel the effect yet), the baby's heart rate dropped again and was slow to recover. The OB on call gave me the choice of a forceps delivery where she would use the forceps to turn the baby, or a cesarean section. In the meantime, the baby's heart rate dropped again and failed to recover, and she called for an emergency c-section.

My midwife Annie took photos for us.

From there everything happened so quickly! The epidural hadn't even fully taken effect yet, so the anesthesiologist came in and decided he'd up the dose for the operation. All sorts of people came rushing in and I totally lost track of what was happening. It all felt very surreal. They wheeled me into the OR while Kirk got changed, and the anesthesiologist checked the epidural. It still hadn't taken effect yet, so he gave me a spinal block. Kirk came and sat by my head, and a few minutes later we heard Odin's gurgly cry. It seemed like an eternity before they let my midwife bring him to us.

It turns out I had developed a Bandl's Ring, which obstructed the baby and was putting enormous pressure on his head with each contraction. The cord was also wrapped around his neck twice. The Bandl's Ring could very likely have led to a uterine rupture had they tried forceps or had I continued labouring, and Odin and I would have been in very grave danger. As it was, we both recovered very well and were discharged home on Sunday. My recovery from the cesarian section was difficult, but I had great help from Kirk, who took 10 days off from work, and my mother and mother-in-law. I don't know what I would have done without the three of them.

Nothing in my labour went the way I had hoped and I'm a little sad that I didn't get a natural delivery, especially after labouring naturally for so long. But the end result is the same, and I wouldn't change anything since it all led to meeting our precious little Odin.

Odin's Nursery

You know those people who post nothing but baby stuff online? It used to annoy me, but now I am one of those people. I get it now. My whole life is wrapped up in this little guy. I don't do anything else. So what else am I going to post about?

And in that vein, here are some photos of Odin's nursery. It's easily my favourite room in the house, and I'm just about done with it. I just have to make a bed skirt and some curtains for the windows, as the matchstick blinds don't block enough of the light for when he starts sleeping in there (he's currently still in our room in a bassinet, but I'd like to start transitioning him to his crib in the next few weeks). But sewing things involves clearing off my desk, which is a whole other task in itself, one that I just don't have time for at the moment. Right now all my time is taken up by nursing, changing diapers and rocking in the rocking chair, and that's just fine by me...

 Kirk's stepmother, Donna, made the beautiful quilt.
Mum and I made the awesome owl mobile.
I got the rocking chair/glider used on craigslist.

The crib is the Mod II by Status. My father made the toy box when I was a kid.

My sister-in-law, Angela, knitted Sleipnir the 8-legged horse. 

I made the birdcage mobile by taking birdcages from Wonderbucks & Michaels,
spray painting them white, putting birds in them and hanging them with wire.

I got the pillow on clearance at JC Penney.

The owl in a suit print is by Ryan Berkley.
The chickadee painting is by Michele Maule.

 Mum had the Odin wall hanging made with letters she took months to source.

Of course I couldn't resist sneaking in a baby picture!

Odin absolutely LOVES his owl mobile.

The small owl rattle is from Baby Bomb and the large bird is by Stuf.

The penguin print on the left is by Michelle of My Zoetrope.

The centre print is from The Haiti Poster Project.

I made the two prints on the right.

The top of the IKEA dresser folds down to make a change table.

I think I got this bird hook from Wonderbucks, but I could be mistaken.
It holds our wet bag for diapers I got from Puddle & Quack.

The square prints are by Trish Grantham.

I made the felt name banner on the door.
The bookshelf is Leksvik from IKEA. 

A lot of these books are my own collection. I hope I'm okay with sharing!

He's finally here!

After 38 hours of unmedicated labour and an emergency cesarean section, Odin finally made his appearance. Kirk and I couldn't be more thrilled to welcome our perfect little son into the world!

Crafty Time! Owl Mobile

I finally finished the felt owl mobile for Odin's room. It was a lot of work but fun to make. Mum helped out by making the brown owl, so it was a multi-generational project! I love it!

Crafty Time! Felt Baby Name

Okay, here come the baby crafts. It was inevitable, you know...

This week I made felt letters spelling out the baby's name for his door. I used to have a very similar one (actually, I still have it in a box somewhere) and I love the continuity of making one for my little guy.

I do wish the felt for the O was a little darker, but these are the blue and aqua shades they had at Michaels. I added the owl because his room has a bird theme and I'll be making an owl mobile very soon (and I'll be sure to post it when it's done).

I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Not professional level by any means, but I like that it looks home made. And it makes me happy when I walk past his door!

Holy crap, it's 2012!

"May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself." - Neil Gaiman

Well, Neil, I plan on surprising myself all over the place this year. And I'm hoping the madness will all be good.

It's been hard for me to get back into blogging. I've been considering it for a while, but couldn't come up with a story or "script" to get the ball rolling again. I haven't been doing much of the things that I would normally blog about (cooking, crafting, art making) for various reasons, and my self-imposed exile from all things social that began last spring/summer has been difficult to break. I only recently re-activated my facebook profile, and even that was a big step.

But New Years Day seems to bring a good excuse to do some public reflection, and I think I'm up for it...

So, what's changed in the last year?

I'm no longer vegan. I'm still largely vegan, but choose to eat some dairy. It started out as a way to get some extra protein and calcium after learning I shouldn't be eating soy, and it turns out I kinda like it. I still prefer my pizza & nachos cheeseless, and don't like lattes made with dairy, but I do eat organic yoghurt pretty much every day and don't always ask for "no cheese" while eating out. I even had ice cream cake at Kirk's last birthday. Honestly, I was afraid to say this online, as I know some people read this blog because it's a vegan blog, but I'm not ashamed of doing what I think is right for myself and hope that most won't judge too harshly. I'm still a committed vegetarian and have been for 2/3 of my life.

I found out, after four surgical procedures and a lot of tears, that I can in fact get pregnant. And then I miscarried, twice. This whole roller coaster fertility journey has taught me a lot, about myself and about life in general. I learned that I can be very fragile yet very strong all at the same time. I learned all too well that, as we've always heard, life is not fair. I learned who I can count on when the shit really hits the fan. I learned that people with good intentions sometimes say the wrong thing, and you can't hold a grudge. I learned that life is short and tenuous and we should never, ever forget that.

I am not the kind of person who believes that everything happens for a reason. I believe that it's a good idea to search for a positive outcome, no matter how tiny, when things are bleak, but I also believe that we're mostly out here flailing about on our own with no "plan" from some god or universal force. That's not a negative to me, but a very strong argument for keeping ourselves grounded, making the best choices we can, and not beating ourselves up for things that are out of our control. I do believe, however, that everything that has led me to this point in my life has helped prepare me for what lies ahead. More specifically, the ups and downs of trying to become a mother have helped prepare me, in whatever small way, for the joys and heartbreaks that come with motherhood.

I am currently 25 weeks pregnant with a little boy. I believe he is the one we will finally meet and share a life with. Kirk and I are both joyous and terrified to meet our son, and after everything that's happened it still seems very surreal.

My only New Years resolution this year is a vague one:
I plan on keeping my head up and facing whatever life throws at me with strength and dignity. 2012, I'm ready for you.

Lost another one

Well, we lost another pregnancy this past weekend. I am heart-broken, and not sure what to do now.

Family Photos

I've been going through the photos on my computer, trying to get them organized. Here are a few family photos, mostly from last Christmas. I thought I'd share so you can see how lucky I am!

 Kirk painting at his desk.

Kirk with his mom & sister. Adorable.

My Mum...

...and my brother, in almost the same pose. 

Mum's dog Toto. Kirk & I got her a lobster dinner toy set,
and promptly put the lobster on her head to take photos.

Jerry. She's my best girl.

Chaos.

Monkey, the "tough one", making biscuits on a blanket.

Know someone who has experienced a loss?

This is brilliant, and something that everyone should read if they know someone who has experienced a miscarriage or a similar loss. It's really hard to know what to say, even if you've been through a loss yourself. This helps. It doesn't all apply to me, but it all applies to someone.

PS - I promise to lay off the miscarriage stuff soon. I just need to get this all out there first so I can move on.

What we wish you knew about pregnancy loss: 

A letter from women to their friends and family 
by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer 
I assert no copyright for the material. Please use it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief. Thank you. 

When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them. The lists tend to be remarkably similar. The comments are rarely malicious - just misguided attempts to soothe. 

This list was compiled as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss. While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss. 
When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners: don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children. No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.

-Don't say, "It was for the best - there was probably something wrong with your baby." The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad. My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out. 

-Don't say, "You can always have another one." This baby was never disposable. If had been given the choice between loosing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would have said, "Where's the fork?" I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children. 

-Don't say, "It's God's Will." Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don't presume to tell me what God wants for me. Besides, many terrible things are God's Will, that doesn't make them less terrible. 

-Don't say, "Be grateful for the children you have." If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father? 

-Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it." I loved my son or daughter. Whether I lost the baby after two weeks of pregnancy or just after birth, I loved him or her. 

-Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?" It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken. I wish it had never happened. But it did and it's a part of me forever. The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine - or yours. 

-Don't say, "Now you have an angel watching over you." I didn't want her to be my angel. I wanted her to bury me in my old age. 

-Don't say, "I understand how you feel." Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel. And even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently. 

-Don't tell me horror stories of your neighbor or cousin or mother who had it worse. The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until two days before my due-date and labor 20 hours for a dead baby. These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair. Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me. 

-Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up. If I say, "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared. If I'm talking about it, it means I want to. Let me. Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone. 

- Don't say, "It's not your fault." It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed. The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse. This tiny little being depended upon me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it. I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give him a childhood. I am so angry at my body you just can't imagine. 

-Don't say, "Well, you weren't too sure about this baby, anyway." I already feel so guilty about ever having complained about morning sickness, or a child I wasn't prepared for, or another mouth to feed that we couldn't afford. I already fear that this baby died because I didn't take the vitamins, or drank too much coffee, or had alcohol in the first few weeks when I didn't know I was pregnant. I hate myself for any minute that I had reservations about this baby. Being unsure of my pregnancy isn't the same as wanting my child to die - I never would have chosen for this to happen. 

-Do say, "I am so sorry." That's enough. You don't need to be eloquent. Say it and mean it and it will matter. 

-Do say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you." We both need to hear that. 

-Do say, "I have lighted a candle for your baby," or "I have said a prayer for your baby." 

-Do send flowers or a kind note - every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved. Don't resent it if I don't respond.

-Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is on and I don't return your call. If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either. Help me by not needing anything from me for a while.

If you're my boss or my co-worker: 

-Do recognize that I have suffered a death in my family - not a medical condition. 

-Do recognize that in addition to the physical after effects I may experience, I'm going to be grieving for quite some time. Please treat me as you would any person who has endured the tragic death of a loved one - I need time and space. 

-DO understand if I do not attend baby showers/christening/birthday parties etc. And DON'T ask why I can't come. 

Please don't bring your baby or toddler into the workplace. If your niece is pregnant, or your daughter just had a baby, please don't share that with me right now. It's not that I can't be happy for anyone else, it's that every smiling, cooing baby, every glowing new mother makes me ache so deep in my heart I can barely stand it. I may look okay to you, but there's a good chance that I'm still crying every day. It may be weeks before I can go a whole hour without thinking about it. You'll know when I'm ready - I'll be the one to say, "Did your daughter have her baby?" or, "How is that precious little boy of yours? I haven't seen him around the office in a while." 

Above all, please remember that this is the worst thing that ever happened to me. The word "miscarriage" is small and easy. But my baby's death is monolithic and awful. It's going to take me a while to figure out how to live with it. Bear with me.

2011 so far can suck it.

Yes, I've been away from the computer for a few months. I deleted my facebook and twitter accounts and ignored my blog. I'm slowly making my way back into it, so bear with me.

Here's what's been going on. It's a real bummer, so don't say I didn't warn you.


Kirk and I tried to conceive for two years. Over the past year and a bit I've had surgeries for endometriosis and blocked fallopian tubes (twice - the first was unsuccessful). We did two rounds of Clomid with no luck, and decided to take a break from trying. We were both emotionally exhausted from the whole process, and I wanted to give my body and our marriage a break. Then we found out I was pregnant on January 10th, and we were so happy! No drugs or peeing on sticks involved! It was meant to be - a Christmas miracle! We told our families right away.

I had an ultrasound at six weeks to to rule out ectopic pregnancy, as the surgeries increase the risk quite a bit. We were both so nervous! But everything was perfect - the baby was in the right place, there was only one, and it had a strong heartbeat. Seeing that little fluttering heartbeat on the screen felt like such a relief! I finally let myself get really excited about this little life inside of me, and we told a couple of close friends about it. I'll never forget that image of our first baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor.

At eight weeks we went for a check up with our fertility specialist, and she did another ultrasound. She told us that the baby had stopped growing pretty much immediately after the previous ultrasound and that there was no heartbeat. I was (and still am) devastated. We wanted this so badly, and I couldn't stop crying.

Because I've already had so much medical intervention our doctor suggested that I wait for a couple of weeks to miscarry naturally. If nothing happened by then, we'd try a drug to induce miscarriage. A D&C is a last resort for me, since I really didn't want any more surgeries on my uterus. Three in six months is more than enough.

I ended up choosing to take the medication to induce miscarriage on February 11th. Carrying a baby that was no longer alive felt horrible to me. It was too hard and stressful to wait any longer, and I just want to move on. The first dose didn't work and I felt SO frustrated! My uterus can't get anything right! But the second did, and the worst was over with in a few painful (in more ways than one) days.

February 2011 was definitely the most terrible month of mine and Kirk's life together, but as we discussed, if we can get through that we can get through anything. The most joyous day of my life so far, and the most devastating, were weeks apart. That's a lot to take.

I am still trying to accept that this baby would never have been healthy and it's for the best. I spent so much time dreaming about being pregnant, giving birth in September, what the baby would be like, and how our lives would change. That's really hard to let go of, even now. I feel like I should be 19 weeks pregnant now and I'm not. That really really sucks.

It also sucks that nobody ever talks about this stuff. If you're someone who knows me and/or Kirk personally, you probably feel a little uncomfortable right now. Sorry about that. I felt pretty alone during this whole thing. Yes, I had Kirk and my mother who are amazing, and a few friends reached out (I didn't always answer, but I appreciated the gestures just the same), but I don't feel like anyone really understands.

Things are getting better every day, but it's a long road, and I will never, ever be the same again.

Hum Drum New Year

I'm feeling a little blah today. It's raining. The frenzy of the holidays is over. My brother and sister-in-law are back in Toronto. Kirk is back at work. I took the Christmas decorations down this morning and the bare tree is standing in the corner, waiting to be taken to the chipper tomorrow (which kind of makes me feel like a jerk). I'm sitting alone on the couch.

I need a new project, so I've decided to do a portrait of a very good friend of mine. I'll be painting it with acrylic on a 11" square piece of watercolour paper. I'm not going to say who it's supposed to be, in case it ends up not looking anything like her :) Then it'll just be a portrait of a pretty girl.

Christmas!!

Merry Christmas to all! Here are some shots of our living room decorated for Christmas. This is the first time I've had room for a tree (and a real one to boot!), and I'm super excited.

 

the painting on the mantle is by Arden Marow Ross