After 35 hours of natural labor, our Theodore Gregory was born on September 26 at 2:39 pm. At birth, he weighed 9 pounds, 10 ounces, measured 23 inches long, and had a head circumference of 14 inches (and I didn't even tear). He has dark hair, and his grandmother pronounced him quite handsome. He is not supposed to be able to pick up his head and look at things, but he obviously hasn't read up on his abilities.
Since we decided to give birth to him at a birthing center rather than a hospital, after he was born, he had his newborn exam and his vitals checked several times. I had my vitals checked several times, ate a healthy meal, drank a bottle of an electrolyte drink, took a shower, and went to the bathroom, after which we did some paperwork and went home.
Pictures to follow.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Dreaming of Baby
As you may have surmised, not much to write about has been happening with Bunny. There are no new pictures, new tricks learned, no toes to goggle over (although they do pack quite a punch, it's really only for me).
However, I had an interesting experience doing a guided relaxation exercise with our Bradley Method teacher. She turned on some soothing music and had us close our eyes. She told us to imagine that we were floating on the ocean, drifting to a far shore. I don't remember more precisely what she said to direct our relaxation, but I vividly remember what I was visualizing.
I was trying to figure out whether or not I was pregnant, and ended up seeing the baby as a boy at different ages. We were floating with Peterbird on a blue cloak which the Theotokos was holding open for us. The far shore we came to was Mt. Athos, where we were greeted by Fr. Seraphim and Fr. Christodoulos, whose faces were shining with joy. Fr. Christodoulos greeted Bunny, and Bunny was going to stay there. I was a little sad to leave him, but very happy that Bunny could stay with Fr. Christodoulos in such a happy place.
Considering that the Bradley teacher is not Orthodox, and I hadn't been reading anything especially spiritual at the time, I thought it was especially interesting to have thought instinctively of all these things. I don't think I will rely on it as a True Vision or anything, but I know that I have a cloud of witnesses who love and care for me and my family even though I cannot see most of them.
However, I had an interesting experience doing a guided relaxation exercise with our Bradley Method teacher. She turned on some soothing music and had us close our eyes. She told us to imagine that we were floating on the ocean, drifting to a far shore. I don't remember more precisely what she said to direct our relaxation, but I vividly remember what I was visualizing.
I was trying to figure out whether or not I was pregnant, and ended up seeing the baby as a boy at different ages. We were floating with Peterbird on a blue cloak which the Theotokos was holding open for us. The far shore we came to was Mt. Athos, where we were greeted by Fr. Seraphim and Fr. Christodoulos, whose faces were shining with joy. Fr. Christodoulos greeted Bunny, and Bunny was going to stay there. I was a little sad to leave him, but very happy that Bunny could stay with Fr. Christodoulos in such a happy place.
Considering that the Bradley teacher is not Orthodox, and I hadn't been reading anything especially spiritual at the time, I thought it was especially interesting to have thought instinctively of all these things. I don't think I will rely on it as a True Vision or anything, but I know that I have a cloud of witnesses who love and care for me and my family even though I cannot see most of them.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Pentecost
Today my husband commented that it was just like me to get stretch marks in time for Pentecost. It took me a little while to get this (I can only see them in the mirror, as they are below the visibility mark, like my feet) and realize that they are shaped like tongues of fire. So we've got the "current nursery" decorations down, at least.
Bunny and I are interacting more these days. He kicks (or orples, or does something in there to attract my attention) and I pat back. If I've been paying proper attention, he wakes up and moves around about every two hours or so, and does move more when we dialogue. It reminds me of the petition for "captives" even more, since it's like two prisoners on either side of a wall, trying to communicate. "Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face-to-face."
And Fr. Peter has finally felt Bunny kick. He doesn't seem all that interested in putting his hand there, but he'll keep it there for a while if I put it on my tummy. For whatever reason, Bunny usually stops kicking when his father's hand is there, but when he does kick big enough to be felt outside (as opposed to my viscera—thanks, kiddo), his father's face lights up and delights me.
Bunny and I are interacting more these days. He kicks (or orples, or does something in there to attract my attention) and I pat back. If I've been paying proper attention, he wakes up and moves around about every two hours or so, and does move more when we dialogue. It reminds me of the petition for "captives" even more, since it's like two prisoners on either side of a wall, trying to communicate. "Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face-to-face."
And Fr. Peter has finally felt Bunny kick. He doesn't seem all that interested in putting his hand there, but he'll keep it there for a while if I put it on my tummy. For whatever reason, Bunny usually stops kicking when his father's hand is there, but when he does kick big enough to be felt outside (as opposed to my viscera—thanks, kiddo), his father's face lights up and delights me.
Friday, May 2, 2008
The Earth Offers a Cave
We now have pictures of the 20-week ultrasounds. It really struck me that the little one looks like he's in a cave, which brought to mind the kontakion of the Nativity by St. Romanos the Melodist.
I love going to the doctors' office. Everyone is kind, and laughs at my jokes (and attempts at jokes). The ultrasound technician says things like, "The umbilical cord is perfect" and "The spine is wonderful." (I am quickly learning to be fond of people who say nice things about my baby.) Also, the doctors answer my questions (mostly with things meaning, "Yes, it's weird, but you're just pregnant. Get over it.") rather than the usual instance, where everyone asks me questions and I have to answer them.
A wonderful woman (now due with her seventh!) had talked to me about the topic of "finding out the sex of the baby." She said that in her Lamaze class, the people who found out were much more impatient the rest of the pregnancy, compared with the people who waited. I figure, I'm already so impatient for the pregnancy to end—especially with the pictures of the wee one whom I just want to cuddle in my arms—that I should choose to wait. It has been getting fun thwarting the people who ask, "Is it a boy or a girl?" (Answer: "I certainly hope so!") or "Are you going to find out?" (Answer: "Yes, within a year, we hope to have things figured out."). I don't mean to be snarky, but I like to think that my father would be laughing, since this is the kind of answer I grew up with.
Overall, I am feeling better these days. I get housework done, and revel in the happiness of a clean house. (Or at least one which is working towards cleanness.)
The "mommies of the parish" have deluged me with kindness in the form of gift cards. I took Fr. Peter shopping with me, and there is something to be said (not only for clothing which fits properly, but also) for bright, happy colors. I had not realized how Bostonian and bland my closet had become—not completely, but compared to the sunny Floridian colors. So I got a bright pink top (Emily would be so proud) and a bright turquoise top amongst the first round of using up the gift cards. (It didn't hurt that even the doctor yesterday commented that I looked well. She meant my coloring, but I was happy that I'd picked a color that looks good on me.) God bless now-Fr. Evangelos (then-Angelo) and his future presvyteres retreat about how to dress.
I love going to the doctors' office. Everyone is kind, and laughs at my jokes (and attempts at jokes). The ultrasound technician says things like, "The umbilical cord is perfect" and "The spine is wonderful." (I am quickly learning to be fond of people who say nice things about my baby.) Also, the doctors answer my questions (mostly with things meaning, "Yes, it's weird, but you're just pregnant. Get over it.") rather than the usual instance, where everyone asks me questions and I have to answer them.
A wonderful woman (now due with her seventh!) had talked to me about the topic of "finding out the sex of the baby." She said that in her Lamaze class, the people who found out were much more impatient the rest of the pregnancy, compared with the people who waited. I figure, I'm already so impatient for the pregnancy to end—especially with the pictures of the wee one whom I just want to cuddle in my arms—that I should choose to wait. It has been getting fun thwarting the people who ask, "Is it a boy or a girl?" (Answer: "I certainly hope so!") or "Are you going to find out?" (Answer: "Yes, within a year, we hope to have things figured out."). I don't mean to be snarky, but I like to think that my father would be laughing, since this is the kind of answer I grew up with.
Overall, I am feeling better these days. I get housework done, and revel in the happiness of a clean house. (Or at least one which is working towards cleanness.)
The "mommies of the parish" have deluged me with kindness in the form of gift cards. I took Fr. Peter shopping with me, and there is something to be said (not only for clothing which fits properly, but also) for bright, happy colors. I had not realized how Bostonian and bland my closet had become—not completely, but compared to the sunny Floridian colors. So I got a bright pink top (Emily would be so proud) and a bright turquoise top amongst the first round of using up the gift cards. (It didn't hurt that even the doctor yesterday commented that I looked well. She meant my coloring, but I was happy that I'd picked a color that looks good on me.) God bless now-Fr. Evangelos (then-Angelo) and his future presvyteres retreat about how to dress.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wee Cozonac
This is the twenty-first cozonac of this year's batch, in my husband's hand. He is a dedicated baker, who kept baking on Holy Saturday even when Dr. Tim and I went to the beach. Maybe next year he will have a helper in making messes in the kitchen. (I did separate most of the 50 eggs required this year. Before ditching him.)
Monday, April 28, 2008
First Pascha
After the church was darkened at midnight, the candle of Pascha raised by my husband, singing, "Come receive the unwaning Light!" and we all went in a joyous procession outside, each candle burning brightly in exultation, we went into church to hold the festal Divine Liturgy. After the singing of the first set of the Paschal hymn: "Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down Death by death, and on those in the tombs bestowing Life," a chanter began another hymn: "This is the day of Resurrection..." which ends in the Paschal hymn. After that hymn's pronouncement of "Christ is risen!" I felt the baby move for the first time.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Names: January
Because my sister thought "Peter Gregory" was horrifyingly strange, I am enjoying going through the synaxarion on hand and further horrifying her with the thought that I might name my child after one of these saints. (For her reaction to "Peter Gregory"—which is a darn sight more normal than "Crispin Jarlath" (cool, but I don't think I would do that to a child)—this sister is disqualified from having her opinion count on naming any of my children. She also thinks pretty much any Greek name is weird. Her children's names, naturally, are "normal"—except to anyone besides her, which makes the whole thing funnier.)
However, as I was going through the pages, making fun of the "weird" names, I realized that these were people who were probably praying for me right now. Also, some of the "weirder" ones started to grow on me (in bold).
I had so much pleasure going through just January, I thought I should stop and savor them rather than rushing through the entire year. Yes, I could just look at September, but there's no reason to have a shared birthday/nameday, is there? Although September 19 does have Dorymedon, Seguanos, and Yaroslav, and babies are notoriously on schedule.
However, as I was going through the pages, making fun of the "weird" names, I realized that these were people who were probably praying for me right now. Also, some of the "weirder" ones started to grow on me (in bold).
* still unable to pronounce this one at all, or pretty much any Georgian name, except Khahaber, thanks to knowing Fr. Khahaber | |
** extra fun teasing my sister with this one, which she managed to take seriously for quite a long while |
I had so much pleasure going through just January, I thought I should stop and savor them rather than rushing through the entire year. Yes, I could just look at September, but there's no reason to have a shared birthday/nameday, is there? Although September 19 does have Dorymedon, Seguanos, and Yaroslav, and babies are notoriously on schedule.
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