What happened.
Much to the chagrin of a few people our little baby girl retained her en-uteri moniker of Sweetpea for the first two and a half days of her life. Audrey and I just didn't want to settle on a name until we'd spent a little time with her. We did have a list to work from at least. One of the UCSF doctors told us that we didn't have to name her for six weeks according to state law, which really made me wonder what happens to those recalcitrant parents who push it to 43 days.
We settled on a name that feels a little old fashioned, has a story and is not terribly popular these days.
Clementine Praza Crane-Brown was born March 12, 2005 at 5:07PM, 8 pounds 3.4 ounces.
Clementine sounds old-fashioned to me, provides the fabulous nickname of Clem and will, I think, wear well. To be sure, there is playground fodder there, but we'll have fun arming her with clever retorts that neither she nor her innocently cruel contemporaries will understand. Her middle name is the Czech word used to describe a person from Prague. We chose that because it was in Prague in 1997 where Audrey said to herself, "Oh, that boy. I marry *him*." By then we had known each other for several years. Sometimes, it just takes awhile, and I wouldn't have it any other way. She and I were together at the butcher shop near where I was boarding. I ordered some sliced ham, and that
handful of Czech words was enough for her. It really is terribly romantic. Anyway, in that abstract sense, Clementine is from Prague. The hyphenation of our last names is probably going to be a curse, but if we didn't do something to annoy the older generation and make life for ourselves a little more complicated than necessary, we'd be failing miserably at our jobs as young whipper snappers.
Now, rolling back a few days... At two weeks overdue, Audrey was ready to get things moving, more to avoid induction than because she was terribly uncomfortable. There are many varied and strange methods to jump-start labor, only a few a which have proven to actually, sometimes, have an effect.
>WARNING, GRAPHIC CONTENT<
First, we tried the funny business that got us here in the first place, which was fun but didn't seem to work. Then Audrey tried a big gulp of castor oil on Thursday night. That either did the trick or was a fancy coincidence. By 3:00 AM Audrey was in labor with bonus bowel related side effects. It seems a rather odd thing to do, but Audrey was sure that a cleansing of the bowels was preferable to stripping her membrane. Just mention that to a woman and read in her face just how unpleasant it must be - something about the rim of a cervix, a finger, and a rotating motion.
>END GRAPHIC CONTENT<
Our dear friends Todd and Jessica and their two kids arrived in town on Wednesday, March 9th specifically to help us out and (we hoped) have a little family vacation. As a massage therapist and mother of two Jessica's help was invaluable and terribly generous. Kimber (their oldest) was very excited about the baby coming, helping fuel our excitement for "the big day" in the midst of our anxiety about whether we were waiting too long, how we'd deal with it, etc. Kenna helped us keep our sense of humor about the whole thing ("When will it be my turn to pop out a baby?") and Todd was calm and understanding in the midst of it all, loaning us his wife and creating an impossibly shaped piece of furniture for Audrey to keep books and vitamins on in the odd-shaped corner between the wall, the crib, the window and the bed. I haven't (and probably never will) figured out how to express my thanks sufficiently.
Audrey's mother, Celeste, arrived on Friday, March 11 at around 5:00pm, brought from the airport by our friends Chris and Jenifer and was (and continues to be) the perfect selfless mother throughout. I've heard that many mothers can't bear to watch their children give birth. True or not, this was not the case for Celeste. She will be with us for a few more days, helping to work out the kinks in what I'm sure will prove to be a very kinky (in an entirely new way) life for Audrey and I. Again, I doubt our thanking skills are up to the task.
Audrey's labor was about 38 hours long. About 12 hours were at home, but as the pain became more intense, she opted for the hospital. She was far enough along to be admitted and set up in one of UCSF's pretty nice labor and delivery rooms with really nice views. The maternity ward is on the 15th floor, and many of the rooms have panoramic views of San Francisco, the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. Audrey dilated pretty slowly, and the pace was such that the midwife began to prepare us mentally for the possibility that the baby might not be able to come without surgical intervention. Still, each time she was examined, Audrey had progressed a little further until the magic 10cm. The poor dear had wanted to see what the pain was like before opting for an epidural, and now there is one more mom in the world who knows how awesome an epidural is. We noticed that there was a certain machisma surrounding "natural" birth, which we both found very interesting. Audrey points out that the only people she's heard boast of a labor without pain relief are friends and family, not the mother. Whatever machisma there is for women in childbirth seems to me about at useful as gigantic biceps and ass-pinching Italian men.
Pushing went very well, and the support offered by the nurses and doctors was totally amazing. Celeste and Jessica and I, without ever planning anything, made a very good team. I guess we were able to make the event about Audrey, not us. That may seem stupidly, obviously necessary, but it is by no means a given. There was such tremendous support for Audrey in that room - it was awesome. Audrey pushed hard through each contraction and toward the end was making such fast progress that the doctors started really hustling to get dressed to catch that baby. It's about here that things started to move really fast and are now pretty blurry. There were some complications that turned out to be more unusual than dangerous.
At some point during labor (probably before Audrey started to push) she had a cervical laceration, which I find a little hard to describe precisely, but amounts to a piece of torn (but still attached) cervix impeding the baby's progress at what would have otherwise been complete dilation. If this sounds bad or painful to you, it is both of those things as well as pretty unusual. We had an excellent and very experienced midwife who had never seen this before. She was able to move the piece of cervix out of the way so the baby could pass through. If I have my facts straight (and I might not) that was an odd thing, but not really dangerous.
WARNING GRAPHIC CONTENT
Post delivery, Audrey continued to bleed from both the cervical tear and her uterus. The uterine bleeding can be dangerous as it can be quite copious. Perhaps due to fatigue from long labor, Audrey's uterus failed to contract properly and shut off bleeding as it would "normally". I'm still not clear about when and how the placenta was delivered nor what roll it played in the bleeding, but there were, I think, 4 doctors, lots of blood, lots of clamps and by far the worst pain of the whole ordeal for Audrey as they worked to stop the bleeding. If there hadn't been so much going on, or if Jessica and Celeste had not been there, or if the medical staff hadn't been so awesome, I might have been scared. There really wasn't time to think though, so things just happened, and the people that needed to do those things just did them. I was just along for the ride.
END GRAPHIC CONTENT
In the midst of all this activity I cut the umbilical cord twice and missed the first pronouncement of the baby's sex. That would be funny under other circumstances, but it really wasn't then and it still isn't. Maybe it will be, because is actually rather comical from a certain perspective. For births that proceed without complication the doctors and midwives at UCSF gives the baby to the mother right away and everyone but mom, baby and dad leave the room. That would have been really cool, but circumstances simply made that emotional bonding moment impossible. I do regret that, but there was nothing to be done about it. At UCSF new babies are poked, prodded and given an APGAR score right there in the delivery room by a team of pediatricians, so babies are rarely whisked away to places unknown as I understand was fairly common no so long ago.
Clementine had passed meconium while still inside the uterus, which is not uncommon for a baby 16 days past due, but does require somewhat aggressive attention right away in order ensure that she didn't inhale any of it. Meconium is not toxic per-se but it is an extreme irritant for the lungs, which is of course very dangerous.
All of this was happening at the same time and pretty fast. I didn't know what to do. I was with the baby across the room and then with Audrey, and then someone explained to me that Audrey would be taken to the operating room to repair the cervix, not because it was an "operation", but because the proper tools were there and the lighting good. I just did what people told me to do and went in the general direction I was pushed.
I went with Audrey to the operating room for a few minutes until the anesthesiologist gave her a little something that set her to softly snoring right quick. Then someone suggested that it might be better if I went to the nursery rather then stay for something I probably didn't really want to see. Celeste was outside the operating room doing a remarkable job of keeping herself together, and we went together to the nursery. There I met my little girl and held her and looked at her gave her her first bath. That was very, very sweet. By then friends had arrived and could watch through the nursery window.
As chaotic as everything was, I was never afraid. I don't believe that Audrey was ever in any danger - I felt this only because I never sensed any fear or uncertainty from the doctors and nurses. I know that Audrey was afraid, and I tried to help her. There real pain and fear in her eyes. Billions of babies have been born on this planet, and I tell you truly, it is never a light matter. I am so proud of her and so amazed. She is my hero.
Eventually, everything settled down. Audrey came out of the operating room after a successful repair of her cervix, which we're told should heal just fine and more than likely will have no negative impact on future pregnancies. Ha ha, future pregnancies. We moved to another room and spent the first of many sleep deprived nights with our little squirmy baby girl.
Audrey was pretty weak and dizzy the next day after losing a litre of blood. She was able to nurse regularly though, and she and baby tried to work out that most natural and surprisingly puzzling skill. It was, and still is, a little frustrating at times, but they are making rapid progress, and I'm sure will have a little fatty when Audrey's milk comes in. Clementine learned to latch on pretty quickly, which was a big relief, as that can be such a frustrating hurdle to clear. The last thing Audrey needs are the various negative feelings that go along with difficulty breast-feeding.
Sweetpea, as she was still called up to this point seemed in great shape, but she got a little warm one day and had a couple of high temperature readings. In the end the consensus was that her elevated temperature was environmental not internal, but the pediatricians take temperature deviance very seriously as it could be an indication of an infection - very dangerous indeed for brand new babies. Baby lost 10% of her weight and was dehydrated, which meant that she needed to have something more than the colostrum Audrey was producing. Until Audrey's milk comes in, she and Clementine are using a Supplemental Nursing System, which is a pretty good way to give a baby formula without using a bottle. Because bottle nipples drip, the baby does not need to suck much get fed, which can be troublesome if the mom is trying to breast-feed and bottle feed or hopes to breast-feed a little later. Of course, many babies adjust fine to both methods of feeding. The system involves a syringe of formula and a very small flexible tube. The idea is to get the end of the tube between Audrey's nipple and the roof of baby's mouth. If you get it in the right spot baby will suck the plunger right down, keeping her sucker in shape, giving her the extra food and hydration she needs and stimulating milk production. If you think it sounds easy, you haven't tried it. It's extra fun at 4:00AM. Sure we could just give her a bottle, but the whipper snapper factor dominates again.
Uncomplicated births are usually a two night stay, but Audrey's blood loss meant an extra night in the hospital, and Clementine's dehydration meant one more beyond that. Throughout, the USCF staff was just totally awesome. There were patient, engaging, encouraging, helpful, supportive, and took the very best care of both Audrey and Clementine. I'm so grateful. The medical system may be in very sad state in the US, but it's mostly the system, not the doctors. There are some amazing people out there to take care of you when you need it.
So, that's what happened, but how do we feel?
I'm not sure how I feel yet. As every dad knows, it's an indescribable event. The physical implausibility, the emotional power, the finality, the warm wriggling thing in your hands that is 50% you... I just don't know. It's crazy. But there are a few new things for me.
I now have this fierce protective current running inside me to keep her safe. Bad people of the world, do not mess with my baby. I will freak out and destroy you. Dads you know that feeling, I know you do. I'm a very peaceful person who perhaps tries too hard to avoid conflict, but if someone were to hurt my baby, I think I could kill them. I am not kidding.
That little baby is brand new, but she looks at me. It's the strangest thing. I see how intelligent she is, but it's a totally blank intelligence. There's something really powerful about that clean, clear look. She looks right into me, and she can't understand a shred of what she sees there. But it so obvious that she will, and somehow that's exactly what she needs to do to make me love her. It's really different. You parents, I'm in on the secret now. I feel like Clementine is perfect right now, and it's all managed care from here on out. Magnificent. A little scary. Maybe a little melancholy too.
I went to Walgreen's to pick some prescriptions for Audrey. There was a woman with a sick child in line, and I found myself wondering if I should be worried about that. It's irrational I know, but I sure never had a thought like that before.
We settled on a name that feels a little old fashioned, has a story and is not terribly popular these days.
Clementine Praza Crane-Brown was born March 12, 2005 at 5:07PM, 8 pounds 3.4 ounces.
Clementine sounds old-fashioned to me, provides the fabulous nickname of Clem and will, I think, wear well. To be sure, there is playground fodder there, but we'll have fun arming her with clever retorts that neither she nor her innocently cruel contemporaries will understand. Her middle name is the Czech word used to describe a person from Prague. We chose that because it was in Prague in 1997 where Audrey said to herself, "Oh, that boy. I marry *him*." By then we had known each other for several years. Sometimes, it just takes awhile, and I wouldn't have it any other way. She and I were together at the butcher shop near where I was boarding. I ordered some sliced ham, and that
handful of Czech words was enough for her. It really is terribly romantic. Anyway, in that abstract sense, Clementine is from Prague. The hyphenation of our last names is probably going to be a curse, but if we didn't do something to annoy the older generation and make life for ourselves a little more complicated than necessary, we'd be failing miserably at our jobs as young whipper snappers.
Now, rolling back a few days... At two weeks overdue, Audrey was ready to get things moving, more to avoid induction than because she was terribly uncomfortable. There are many varied and strange methods to jump-start labor, only a few a which have proven to actually, sometimes, have an effect.
>WARNING, GRAPHIC CONTENT<
First, we tried the funny business that got us here in the first place, which was fun but didn't seem to work. Then Audrey tried a big gulp of castor oil on Thursday night. That either did the trick or was a fancy coincidence. By 3:00 AM Audrey was in labor with bonus bowel related side effects. It seems a rather odd thing to do, but Audrey was sure that a cleansing of the bowels was preferable to stripping her membrane. Just mention that to a woman and read in her face just how unpleasant it must be - something about the rim of a cervix, a finger, and a rotating motion.
>END GRAPHIC CONTENT<
Our dear friends Todd and Jessica and their two kids arrived in town on Wednesday, March 9th specifically to help us out and (we hoped) have a little family vacation. As a massage therapist and mother of two Jessica's help was invaluable and terribly generous. Kimber (their oldest) was very excited about the baby coming, helping fuel our excitement for "the big day" in the midst of our anxiety about whether we were waiting too long, how we'd deal with it, etc. Kenna helped us keep our sense of humor about the whole thing ("When will it be my turn to pop out a baby?") and Todd was calm and understanding in the midst of it all, loaning us his wife and creating an impossibly shaped piece of furniture for Audrey to keep books and vitamins on in the odd-shaped corner between the wall, the crib, the window and the bed. I haven't (and probably never will) figured out how to express my thanks sufficiently.
Audrey's mother, Celeste, arrived on Friday, March 11 at around 5:00pm, brought from the airport by our friends Chris and Jenifer and was (and continues to be) the perfect selfless mother throughout. I've heard that many mothers can't bear to watch their children give birth. True or not, this was not the case for Celeste. She will be with us for a few more days, helping to work out the kinks in what I'm sure will prove to be a very kinky (in an entirely new way) life for Audrey and I. Again, I doubt our thanking skills are up to the task.
Audrey's labor was about 38 hours long. About 12 hours were at home, but as the pain became more intense, she opted for the hospital. She was far enough along to be admitted and set up in one of UCSF's pretty nice labor and delivery rooms with really nice views. The maternity ward is on the 15th floor, and many of the rooms have panoramic views of San Francisco, the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. Audrey dilated pretty slowly, and the pace was such that the midwife began to prepare us mentally for the possibility that the baby might not be able to come without surgical intervention. Still, each time she was examined, Audrey had progressed a little further until the magic 10cm. The poor dear had wanted to see what the pain was like before opting for an epidural, and now there is one more mom in the world who knows how awesome an epidural is. We noticed that there was a certain machisma surrounding "natural" birth, which we both found very interesting. Audrey points out that the only people she's heard boast of a labor without pain relief are friends and family, not the mother. Whatever machisma there is for women in childbirth seems to me about at useful as gigantic biceps and ass-pinching Italian men.
Pushing went very well, and the support offered by the nurses and doctors was totally amazing. Celeste and Jessica and I, without ever planning anything, made a very good team. I guess we were able to make the event about Audrey, not us. That may seem stupidly, obviously necessary, but it is by no means a given. There was such tremendous support for Audrey in that room - it was awesome. Audrey pushed hard through each contraction and toward the end was making such fast progress that the doctors started really hustling to get dressed to catch that baby. It's about here that things started to move really fast and are now pretty blurry. There were some complications that turned out to be more unusual than dangerous.
At some point during labor (probably before Audrey started to push) she had a cervical laceration, which I find a little hard to describe precisely, but amounts to a piece of torn (but still attached) cervix impeding the baby's progress at what would have otherwise been complete dilation. If this sounds bad or painful to you, it is both of those things as well as pretty unusual. We had an excellent and very experienced midwife who had never seen this before. She was able to move the piece of cervix out of the way so the baby could pass through. If I have my facts straight (and I might not) that was an odd thing, but not really dangerous.
WARNING GRAPHIC CONTENT
Post delivery, Audrey continued to bleed from both the cervical tear and her uterus. The uterine bleeding can be dangerous as it can be quite copious. Perhaps due to fatigue from long labor, Audrey's uterus failed to contract properly and shut off bleeding as it would "normally". I'm still not clear about when and how the placenta was delivered nor what roll it played in the bleeding, but there were, I think, 4 doctors, lots of blood, lots of clamps and by far the worst pain of the whole ordeal for Audrey as they worked to stop the bleeding. If there hadn't been so much going on, or if Jessica and Celeste had not been there, or if the medical staff hadn't been so awesome, I might have been scared. There really wasn't time to think though, so things just happened, and the people that needed to do those things just did them. I was just along for the ride.
END GRAPHIC CONTENT
In the midst of all this activity I cut the umbilical cord twice and missed the first pronouncement of the baby's sex. That would be funny under other circumstances, but it really wasn't then and it still isn't. Maybe it will be, because is actually rather comical from a certain perspective. For births that proceed without complication the doctors and midwives at UCSF gives the baby to the mother right away and everyone but mom, baby and dad leave the room. That would have been really cool, but circumstances simply made that emotional bonding moment impossible. I do regret that, but there was nothing to be done about it. At UCSF new babies are poked, prodded and given an APGAR score right there in the delivery room by a team of pediatricians, so babies are rarely whisked away to places unknown as I understand was fairly common no so long ago.
Clementine had passed meconium while still inside the uterus, which is not uncommon for a baby 16 days past due, but does require somewhat aggressive attention right away in order ensure that she didn't inhale any of it. Meconium is not toxic per-se but it is an extreme irritant for the lungs, which is of course very dangerous.
All of this was happening at the same time and pretty fast. I didn't know what to do. I was with the baby across the room and then with Audrey, and then someone explained to me that Audrey would be taken to the operating room to repair the cervix, not because it was an "operation", but because the proper tools were there and the lighting good. I just did what people told me to do and went in the general direction I was pushed.
I went with Audrey to the operating room for a few minutes until the anesthesiologist gave her a little something that set her to softly snoring right quick. Then someone suggested that it might be better if I went to the nursery rather then stay for something I probably didn't really want to see. Celeste was outside the operating room doing a remarkable job of keeping herself together, and we went together to the nursery. There I met my little girl and held her and looked at her gave her her first bath. That was very, very sweet. By then friends had arrived and could watch through the nursery window.
As chaotic as everything was, I was never afraid. I don't believe that Audrey was ever in any danger - I felt this only because I never sensed any fear or uncertainty from the doctors and nurses. I know that Audrey was afraid, and I tried to help her. There real pain and fear in her eyes. Billions of babies have been born on this planet, and I tell you truly, it is never a light matter. I am so proud of her and so amazed. She is my hero.
Eventually, everything settled down. Audrey came out of the operating room after a successful repair of her cervix, which we're told should heal just fine and more than likely will have no negative impact on future pregnancies. Ha ha, future pregnancies. We moved to another room and spent the first of many sleep deprived nights with our little squirmy baby girl.
Audrey was pretty weak and dizzy the next day after losing a litre of blood. She was able to nurse regularly though, and she and baby tried to work out that most natural and surprisingly puzzling skill. It was, and still is, a little frustrating at times, but they are making rapid progress, and I'm sure will have a little fatty when Audrey's milk comes in. Clementine learned to latch on pretty quickly, which was a big relief, as that can be such a frustrating hurdle to clear. The last thing Audrey needs are the various negative feelings that go along with difficulty breast-feeding.
Sweetpea, as she was still called up to this point seemed in great shape, but she got a little warm one day and had a couple of high temperature readings. In the end the consensus was that her elevated temperature was environmental not internal, but the pediatricians take temperature deviance very seriously as it could be an indication of an infection - very dangerous indeed for brand new babies. Baby lost 10% of her weight and was dehydrated, which meant that she needed to have something more than the colostrum Audrey was producing. Until Audrey's milk comes in, she and Clementine are using a Supplemental Nursing System, which is a pretty good way to give a baby formula without using a bottle. Because bottle nipples drip, the baby does not need to suck much get fed, which can be troublesome if the mom is trying to breast-feed and bottle feed or hopes to breast-feed a little later. Of course, many babies adjust fine to both methods of feeding. The system involves a syringe of formula and a very small flexible tube. The idea is to get the end of the tube between Audrey's nipple and the roof of baby's mouth. If you get it in the right spot baby will suck the plunger right down, keeping her sucker in shape, giving her the extra food and hydration she needs and stimulating milk production. If you think it sounds easy, you haven't tried it. It's extra fun at 4:00AM. Sure we could just give her a bottle, but the whipper snapper factor dominates again.
Uncomplicated births are usually a two night stay, but Audrey's blood loss meant an extra night in the hospital, and Clementine's dehydration meant one more beyond that. Throughout, the USCF staff was just totally awesome. There were patient, engaging, encouraging, helpful, supportive, and took the very best care of both Audrey and Clementine. I'm so grateful. The medical system may be in very sad state in the US, but it's mostly the system, not the doctors. There are some amazing people out there to take care of you when you need it.
So, that's what happened, but how do we feel?
I'm not sure how I feel yet. As every dad knows, it's an indescribable event. The physical implausibility, the emotional power, the finality, the warm wriggling thing in your hands that is 50% you... I just don't know. It's crazy. But there are a few new things for me.
I now have this fierce protective current running inside me to keep her safe. Bad people of the world, do not mess with my baby. I will freak out and destroy you. Dads you know that feeling, I know you do. I'm a very peaceful person who perhaps tries too hard to avoid conflict, but if someone were to hurt my baby, I think I could kill them. I am not kidding.
That little baby is brand new, but she looks at me. It's the strangest thing. I see how intelligent she is, but it's a totally blank intelligence. There's something really powerful about that clean, clear look. She looks right into me, and she can't understand a shred of what she sees there. But it so obvious that she will, and somehow that's exactly what she needs to do to make me love her. It's really different. You parents, I'm in on the secret now. I feel like Clementine is perfect right now, and it's all managed care from here on out. Magnificent. A little scary. Maybe a little melancholy too.
I went to Walgreen's to pick some prescriptions for Audrey. There was a woman with a sick child in line, and I found myself wondering if I should be worried about that. It's irrational I know, but I sure never had a thought like that before.
