Updates!

So I've been wanting to blog for a while, and now that I've finally sat down to do it, I'm drawing a blank. Maybe once I get going, I'll write more than you're willing to read... Ha.

Hmm. Well, let's see. How about a status update on James' search for a postdoctorate position?

I realize not all of you are really all that sure about what a postdoc is. Basically, if you're going into academia and planning to be a professor, it's a job you get right after getting your PhD, but before you find a "real" job as a bona fide professor. Essentially, you find a professor to act as your mentor, and your duties include finding a real job, doing research, finding a real job, possibly teaching classes... oh, and finding a real job.

And yes, a postdoc is practically a requisite if you want to get a professorship at an awesome university. If James' goal in life was to be a professor at a dinky little university or little college, he wouldn't need a postdoc position. And, since James wants to do research, he needs a postdoc so he get a job at a university where his primary purpose is research with teaching on the side, and not the other way around.

Still with me? Good.

So James is set to graduate mid-June. Right around then, you may commence calling him Dr. Dilts. James has essentially set it up so that he can continue working at the university for two months following his graduation (so, until mid-August, say) and get a paycheck and important benefits like medical insurance... Huzzah! We were really worried about those few months for a while, imagining that we'd have no income and no insurance, but thankfully this doesn't seem to be what's going to happen. YAY!

As for the real job starting in the fall... Well... it's hard to say. Here's what James was expecting to happen, and why.

The most likely position seemed to be the one at UC San Diego. He has a collaborator there that wants to work with him and is okay with being his mentor for a year or two. This guy actually approached James and essentially asked James if he wanted to do a postdoc with him at UCSD.

Well... the problem here isn't that the guy doesn't want to work with James anymore, it's that the money to pay James has to come from SOMEWHERE. We weren't expecting this to be an issue, because that professor has said that he'd always been able to pay a postdoc he wanted, and he fully expected this to be the case for James as well.

... And now, he's trying to figure out how to pay James, because all the straightforward options aren't really working out. The "official" postdoc positions through the university were filled with postdocs other math professors at UCSD wanted, due to some department politics. (I.e., "No, it's MY turn to hire a postdoc! You had one a few years ago!" "But mine is the best!" "No, MINE!" etc. Presumably something like that.) And the professor has another graduate student who might graduate in the middle of next year and be a postdoc (with the associated pay increase) for the remainder of the schoolyear, or something... So yeah. Things got complicated.

This doesn't mean James isn't going to get to work at UCSD with this professor. If the professor can finagle enough grant money to pay James a reasonable salary, then it could still work out.

There has also been some rumors that maybe if the professor at UCSD contributed some grant money, and the professor at Stanford contributed some, too, then maybe James could do a postdoc at both... kind of... And yeah. Neither James nor I am sure how that could possibly work, but... yeah.

James has also applied to:

• University of Washington (in Seattle, Washington),
• MIT (in Cambridge, Massachusetts),
• Princeton University (in Princeton, New Jersey),
• Pennsylvania State University (in State College, Pennsylvania),
• University of Michigan (in Ann Arbor, Michigan), and 
• University of Wisconsin (in Milwaukee, Wisconsin).

These are all far less likely to work out than the UCSD position, because they depend on a professor that James doesn't really know piping up and saying, "Ooh, I'd like to work with him" upon seeing his application amongst a big stack. So yeah. Unlikely. But... possible. (Oh, and adding to the stress? It's unlikely that any of these places would actually send a rejection letter to you once they've filled the position with someone else. For all we know ALL of the above positions have already been filled, and we are clinging to false hopes! Eep!)

We've been very prayerful about things. We keep getting assurances that things are going to work out precisely the way the Lord is planning them to (no duh), but we still don't know where we're going. Sigh. It at least helped my stress to know that we now have plans clear into August now instead of just until June.

So yeah.

In short, things could maybe might probably possibly I really, really hope work out for San Diego. Otherwise, only the Lord knows.

Let's see now, what else.

Dragon is a happy kid. He's pretty smart, I think. It's hard to pinpoint why I think this, but I am getting the idea that he is smarter than Amelia was at the same age. Hard to say, though. It could absolutely just be my imagination. I think part of it is his constant expression of interest and curiosity. Sometimes I'm afraid to mention adult topics in front of him, because I just feel like he is filing everything away for reflection. I wasn't ever afraid to do in front of baby Amelia.

And I feel like he is doing things slightly faster. He is almost sitting stably. He can sit without support for maybe ten seconds at times. He's exactly five months old today, and I'm pretty sure Amelia wasn't sitting yet until after six months. So his gross motor skills are better, though I don't think his fine motor skills are as advanced as hers were. In any case, he is obsessed with sitting. Sometimes he will cry until I allow him to sit up instead of lie on his back.

Ooh, also he is verbally more advanced than she was. He's a screecher, and a squealer, and apparently that's more common in older babies. He has (on more than one occasion) squealed so loudly as to silence a room of 20+ people. He's been doing that since maybe three months?

Oh. Also he is big. He, disturbingly, fills out his 9-month clothes quite well already.

Ah, I suppose I never told you details about the hypospadias evaluation. We went up to Portland to see a pediatric urologist. He looked at Dragon's penis and said that actually, his urethral opening seemed to be where it's supposed to be, meaning that's there isn't actually any hypospadias. It just kind of looked like it, because the foreskin wasn't completely formed (called a hooded foreskin), and the penis has a weird twist to it (that's called chordee), and both those are usually only seen with hypospadias. It's quite unusual to see the chordee without hypospadias.

The doctor predicted that Dragon wouldn't have any problems with urination, erection, intercourse, or anything else as a result of these things, and said that in this case, the problem is likely completely cosmetic. He said we could have it repaired if we wanted.

And, well, I thought... nah. Don't need to. I hadn't wanted to circumcise Dragon because that was a purely cosmetic surgery. On genitals. Right next to the anus, while the kid is in diapers. Genitalia seem like a very important set of things to be doing cosmetic surgery on just for fun. Um... seems dumb. And, so I thought, well, let's not do . And then, when he's older, if it does happen to bother him (which I don't think it will, but we'll see), then he can still have it corrected.

Anyway. What else.

Amelia... is getting to be extremely intelligible when she talks. It's weird to finally be able to understand the majority of the stuff she's saying. And I can understand what she's saying when she sings, now, too. She's growing up! (And, she's getting shockingly big, too. I just moved her up to 4T clothes. Eep!)

My two kids are so happy together. I think they are going to be bestest brother/sister friends. Hopefully the third child will also be a good friend in there. But Amelia and Dragon already just love each other to pieces. Amelia's intensity sometimes freaks out Dragon, but I think usually it just delights him. He likes her, and she likes him.

(As a bonus for you, I've been trying to come up with a single word to describe each child, and I think I will describe Amelia as intense. That's her word, for sure. Dragon is harder, probably because he's so young. For now: delightful. But other words that come to mind are sweet and happy. He's delightful--full of delight himself, and good at filling others with delight. We'll see what I come up with when he's a little older.)

Ah, darn. The childrens are waking up from their slumber. Doom!

Love and Girl Scout cookies,
Jenna and tot and baby and husband :)

Bleary-eyed Blogging Late in the Night

Woot! I really wanted to write some tonight, and though it looks like it is happening under less than ideal circumstances (Amelia refuses to go to bed so we are all up being bleary-eyed), it is happening. Woo?

Wii!
Among significant news, we did get our Wii, and we are playing it fairly often. I've decided that, at least for now, a Wii is a better fit for our family than computer games are. Why? Well, you've got your bigger screen, for one, which makes it way easier for your hyper kid to inspect your gaming skills. You've got your extra controller, so your hyper kid can pretend to play with you, or even actually play with you. And our Wii is situated in the playroom with all the hyper kid's toys, so it has turned out to be a more family-friendly alternative to computer games in our family.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for the Christmas money. We definitely spent it before it arrived (and it did arrive), but thanks, thanks, thanks. We are having a blast.

I have spent most of my Wii time playing Mariokart, and I get so dang excited whenever I accomplish something I've deemed a worthy achievement. Like getting gold medals! Then star ranks! Then double star ranks! I've never gotten a triple star rank yet, but I'm getting there... And I want to tell the world every time I unlock a new character. I got Rosalina and I was super excited. I most recently got Birdo and Toadette and Dry Bones... YAY. You all should be super proud of me for NOT posting an exultation on Facebook every single time I unlock something. Super proud. ... Also you should be proud of me for unlocking all the things. :)

Pertussis! Eep!
Many of you know that I have had a cough for roughly two and a half months. And I really wish I could tell you for sure, but unfortunately, I can only guess. I *think* it is pertussis. If you look at the CDC's website on the signs and symptoms of pertussis, it's like reading a description of exactly what's going on with me... minus the actual "whoop" sound, which is less common in vaccinated people, like me. (And, thankfully, minus the rare complication of coughing so hard that you break a rib... Eep!)

But I am pretty convinced at this point that the bug I caught was pertussis. Everything fits. The rapid-fire coughing in bursts that leave me nearly unable to breathe. The vomiting from coughing so hard. The exhaustion. The fact that I still am coughing three months later. And that every time I go to the doctor, he or she raises his or her eyebrows, rubs his or her chin, and says, "That sounds an awful lot like pertussis..." Unfortunately, the bacteria has long been gone from my system, and I have antibodies for pertussis from the vaccine anyway, so there really is no way to confirm the theory at this point. Boo.

If it *is* pertussis, though, boy, do I just need to say a prayer of thanks that Dragon is still alive! He got it, too. He's been coughing and such, but not a whole ton. The biggest issue with babies and pertussis, though, isn't the cough, it's that they simply stop breathing. So yeah. I am happy the baby is still breathing! I am grateful now that he got some antibodies from me during pregnancy and from the breastmilk after I caught the disease.

And a little angry that I caught pertussis. Ugh. Don't talk to me about anti-vaxxers right now. My brain gets upset if I think too much about it, particularly if I go down the "well, what if Dragon had died from pertussis" issue. It helps, though, to remember that the CDC thinks that the recent pertussis outbreaks aren't the anti-vaxxers' faults. There are other reasons happening here, apparently.

The good news is, I can tell that coughing fits are happening less, so maybe it will all be over soon! "Soon" meaning in like... two more weeks? I hope! Man, I can't WAIT to stop coughing. It really has been nearly three months. Worst cough of my life...

Hypospadias
David finally has an appointment in early March with a pediatric urologist to check out the hypospadias issue.That is a relief for me. If he does need a surgery, and I have a gut feeling that he might, it will probably be when he's six months old, which would be in April. I'm starting to feel a bit better and have been stressing about it so much lately.

The Scary Future!
So over Christmas break, James' dad gave us both priesthood blessings that made it sound like the next half-year to a year would be extremely stressful for both of us. James came out of it so nervous that he told me that he'd be happy if it turned out to be anything better (i.e. less stressful) than not finding a job after he graduates AND also finding out we're pregnant with triplets. Lol.

Well, nothing has blown up in our faces yet. James didn't get a prestigious NSF fellowship/grant thing that would have guaranteed him a job, but there isn't really anything else that's gone wrong yet. And I'm not even pregnant. Things are going pretty well...

So what's coming? I have no idea.

Though, if you want a little laugh, I was just telling God this morning I did not envision Him making a minivan materialize for free and out of nowhere for us, so therefore twins and triplets were definitely NOT in our future. Because we couldn't fit any more than three children into the car we currently have, and it would totally be impossible at this point to buy a minivan, even used. Thus, I could justify the assumption that we will only get one child out of our third pregnancy whenever it happens. So, I told God, I'm just going to stop thinking about the possibility of multiples.

I now imagine that He heard me say all that, and He cackled.

Tonight when I was talking to my dad, he just happened to mention that maybe he could somehow fix the minivan that's just been sitting in his driveway unused and in need of repair and then somehow give/sell (or something?) to us if we wanted/needed. And I didn't even bring up the subject.

I didn't tell my dad at the time, but I was just imagining Heavenly Father cackling in glee, "See? I can do whatever I want to. I can totally make twins or triplets work out." Yeah, yeah, but, but! Sputter, sputter! We'd still need way more diapers! And like, a gajillion more car seats! And, and. "Hey. I can get you a minivan. I can get you anything." Touché, God. Touché. ... "You are a funny child, Jenna." He is totally teasing me.

So, I will at least admit that it's possible that we might end up with a divinely-arranged multiple birth, but I don't know what is coming. I don't think I'll know until it happens. Ha. Until something explodes, things are going pretty well. I hope the thing that explodes is not my uterus.

Love,
Jenna and the familia



P.S. Mom and Dad, I know you wanted to actually get items for Amelia and David for Christmas, rather than sending money. I also know I was supposed to give you a list of ideas because you've been stumped. Oops, sorry. You being stumped is probably partly my fault. I don't want a lot of things, so when we do want or need something, I'm usually pretty quick to just get it, and then I don't want or need anything any more.

So. The results of my efforts to come up with a long list of ideas didn't get very far. I tried, though.

Here are my ideas for Dragon. First, I have been seriously considering using some of Dragon's Christmas money to buy a Sophie the Giraffe (or even BOTH Sophies, the first two listings on that page). They are apparently the most popular teething toys in the world, despite the price that makes me squirm... and although Amelia was never really into teething toys, I have this notion that Dragon is WAY more into chewing on stuff than she ever was, and that he would happily chew a Sophie to death. I'm also feeling a little silly admitting it, but part of me wants a Sophie because practically everybody I know with a baby in the Eugene area has a Sophie and nearly all of them are like, "DO IT. GET A SOPHIE. YOUR BABY WILL LOVE IT." So I'm intrigued. The only other ideas I had were a super nerdy thing like... a Star Trek uniform onesie from ThinkGeek (best bet on size would be 12 months). Actually, practically anything for babies or kids from ThinkGeek would be a welcome surprise for anyone in the family. And then I had the idea of a pull-along toy. Or maybe something that stacks or nests?

Okay, so, Amelia. Uh. Gosh. This is hard. Well, um, she desperately wants her very own Wii remote. I know, weird. Uh. Books, she likes. She is starting to be okay with "big kid" books, i.e. books that are not board books, but actually have paper pages. If You Give a Mouse a Cookie was a big hit. Um. Any LEGO DUPLO blocks would be welcome. Uh. Princess dresses. Anything My Little Pony. And remember this old wishlist from Amazon? Most of those things are still great ideas.

And, um, if you're short $8.79 for Amazon's $35 requirement for free shipping, you should totally get us this exact waterproof protector for her car seat. We're potty training. Heh heh. We are going to buy that. I *hate* cleaning the car seat that much. Heck, I might buy two.

Hope you grandparental units find something to satisfy your gifting needs. :)

A New Year

Oh my heck. How did this happen? I haven't blogged since well over two months ago. I guess part of the problem is that a good portion of my usual audience--the extended Dilts family--has actually had the privilege of hanging out in person with our family for a few weeks in December.

We went to James' family's home in Enola, Pennsylvania, where we spent three entire weeks. James is the fourth of ten children, and EVERYONE came home for the holidays, and more importantly, a couple weddings. James' brother Ethan got married... as well as sister Rachel. Huzzah!

So there were lots and lots of Diltsen. There were about twenty people staying at the Dilts home proper. Another eight were staying with a nearby sister. So lots of you readers were actually spending time with our actual personages. Whoa!

Oh, and I suppose we even got to spend time during Thanksgiving with a lot of you as well, because we went to James' brother's family's home, and then another brother also brought his own family to this shindig. So many Diltsen!

So that's why I haven't blogged in a while. And thus, for many of the Diltsen, none of the following will really be news, I suppose.

So. We flew home from Pennsylvania last week... and although that went about as well as could be imagined... Heck, I never want to fly with small children again. 'Small children' being defined as 'children small enough to require car seats'. Carrying children through the airport is definitely one of my least favorite things, stroller or no. And besides, one more kid, and it'd probably be more cost-effective to drive to pretty much anywhere in the States anyway. Or anywhere on this continent, even. So I've decided. I never want to fly with children again.

It probably didn't help that I was sick and baby was sick and tot was sick.

Amelia has been super sick for the last week or so. She's starting to feel better, but her mood has been dizzyingly volatile. It doesn't help that she is refusing to eat most of what we give her, too. Oh well.

Partly, Amelia isn't eating because we are starting to eat really healthily again.

It's hard to get children to eat, period. But it is possible to get children to eat healthy food, I promise. The trick is to not have any unhealthy food available. That's what we're doing. Of course, there's always a 'starvation phase' where the kid refuses all the good stuff you're offering in the hopes that waiting it out will somehow make a candy bar materialize out of thin air instead of those vegetables with hummus, but eventually, the kid will decide the good food is better than starving it out waiting for chicken nuggets and cheese sticks. It can just take a while. To my knowledge, no child has ever actually starved when their parents refuse to give them chicken nuggets.

Amelia is in the 'starvation phase'. She is really hoping we'll give her a donut or something. Her tactics are not working, but it's hard on us all. I keep telling myself that this is only temporary and eventually she'll give in and eat again and therefore finally get back into a good mood, but it's rough in the meantime.

One of the big reasons we're starting to eat well is because we decided it makes the most sense for us to have our next kid ASAP, because the farther James gets into his career, the less able he will be to help me out. And we want one more kid--just one more. Then we are stopping. Now, I know I've been pendulous on this issue, but I think I have finally made a real, permanent decision. Three, and that's it. No more. Just three. Just three pregnancies that result in live births, anyway. I'm half-expecting the next one to be twins or triplets or something, just because I decided I only want one more kid. And then, I don't know. I'm seriously tempted to have a tubal ligation or something drastic like that because I'm so sure, and because another kid would likely do bad things for my health. Getting my tubes tied is definitely something I'd pray my guts out over before I actually go through with it, but it is looking mighty tempting.

Among other exciting news this week... We just spent lots of money again and bought a few things. We upgraded our budget software so that we can use the app on our phones. And, speaking of phones, I finally ordered myself a new phone! New to me, anyway. It's a Galaxy S3, I think. I am so looking forward to that, because I honestly cannot even express to you how much I hate my current phone.

(I'll try to express it, though. Among reasons to hate it: it crashes at least once an hour; it often thinks I am touching the screen when I'm not, making using it nearly impossible because it then ignores my actual guiding touch in favor of the phantom touch; it came with so much bloatware that I cannot actually download all the apps I want onto the phone; it mysteriously won't run apps (usually ones I like) it is theoretically supposed to run without problem; it doesn't charge with its own charger; its battery life is pathetic; I cannot update the OS and it needs it; it's slow; it sometimes will not type even when the phantom isn't wreaking havoc with the touchscreen; and there are certainly more I can't remember right now. It's hard to remember all my complaints about it when there are so many. But honestly, the phantom touch issue alone is just THE WORST POSSIBLE THING. It will call people when I'm just trying to get back to the home screen. Typing can be a beast when it thinks there's a phantom intent on typing 'yyyyyy' over and over again. Heck, even scrolling down a website, or turning a page in an e-reader, or even unlocking the screen are often impossible. It's just the worst phone I've ever had.)

So, needless to say, I am exceedingly pleased to be finally getting a new phone. Huzzah!

Also, I am exceedingly pleased that we will be getting a Wii... huzzah! It is coming with the following games: New Super Mario Brothers Wii! Super Mario Galaxy! LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga! Wii Sports (meh). Sonic & Mario 2: The Olympic Games... or something like that (also meh). We also bought Mariokart, of course. And because adding Just Dance 4 to that order was only mildly more expensive than shipping (free shipping over $35 or something), we got that, too. It's an excuse to move my bod. Hhhhot (says James). Also, we figured Amelia would like to dance with us. We also got a second Wiimote and rechargeable batteries for the Wiimotes. Woohoo!

We have not yet splurged on DDR, but don't worry, we will. We figured we should wait until we got our tax return for that. Oh, and also, until we know if our Wii has Gamecube ports and thus is compatible with DDR dancemats. You know, important things.

So I am super excited for all the happy deliveries that will happen next week. I think we are expecting something like five packages in the next week or so. Yay!

Oh, and one of our friends had an old 21" cathode ray tube TV we could have for free. It also has a DVD player built into it, so it's super snazzy. We could, like, watch a movie on it. Instead of, like, on our computer. Weird. This friend also gave us an old bean bag, but it's in pretty sad shape. Still I am pleased. I will probably stuff it with old sheets or old pillows or something. And then we can have a sweet hangout for playing Mariokart on. And by sweet, I actually mean pretty tacky but acceptable.

Anyway.

I did mention that I've been sick for a while. I am sooo tired of feeling crummy. First, I was pregnant for nine months. And then, after I gave birth, I wasn't sick, but I was still physical weak and recovering from the ordeal that is childbirth for a while. And then I caught some awful illness. The acute symptoms didn't last that long, but the cough has been going on for upwards of two months. (So possibly it is pertussis?) The cough is actually often bad enough that I vomit from coughing so hard. Ugh. And then, over Christmas break, I still had this cough, but I also caught some awful (possibly) novovirus that made me spew out both ends for a day or two and then I wasn't spewing, but I still felt awful for a while, and then I think I got a secondary sinus infection that had a special talent at making my body produce extraordinary amounts of thick, green mucus. That is still going on, possibly, but I was just getting over it, maybe. And then today, I am starting to exhibit flu symptoms or something. Awful body aches. I cannot even hold my phone to my ear comfortably right now. It's nuts.

So I have not felt well for about a year.

I am anxious that I may just get pregnant immediately (dang it) and go right from battling a flu to another nine months of constant nausea. Sigh. (And it's totally possible, too. I just verified that I am, in fact, ovulatory, just three months postpartum. I think I started menstruating again this time at about the same time women who don't nurse generally start menstruating. Isn't that weird? It's not like I'm starving David. He is growing even faster than Amelia did, and I didn't start getting visits from Aunt Flo again after her birth until she was over a year old! And even then, I wasn't fertile yet! So I am really surprised that it's even possible to be pregnant again already. Eep!)

Anyway... how's David doing? He's doing really well. He is so chill, and he constantly has this expression of shock/curiosity/wonder. I love it.

For the past few days, though, he's actually been pretty fussy. Perhaps he is sick or something? My mommy senses were definitely tingling that something is off with him.

In any case, my intuition was also telling me that he's been bored out of his mind for the past week or so since we got home. I think he may be a smart cookie. I could swear he is turning pages (rather haphazardly, of course) in board books already, so long as I lift the page so he is at least able to get his hammy fist under the page to nudge it over. And he is just so INTERESTED in EVERYTHING. But this could all just be normal baby development and I could just be imagining that he's going to be a supergenius someday, I'll readily admit that.

And also, David is a chunxtor. He is working on his sixteenth pound as we speak.

I think that might just about be all the updates I can think of. It is promising to be an interesting, and possibly exhausting, year.

Love and homemade bread,
Jenna and Amelia and Dragon

P.S. Oh, and thank you to the family who sent us Christmas money. We wouldn't have been able to treat ourselves to exciting things like actually-functional phones and a Wii without you. We are very grateful!

And Three Become Four

I was able to blog lots more immediately following Amelia's birth than I have been able to now. The irony is, Amelia was a much more difficult child to care for.

Yes, I am going to compare my experience with newborn Amelia to my experience with newborn David. I think it is difficult not to compare your children to one another, particularly when they are so different. I know that may make some of you wince, but I think it's okay to point out the differences.

And the simple truth is this: it is far easier to make little David happy than it ever was for little Amelia. After a few weeks of simply rather easy baby care, James and I both started to worry that we were both actually complete wimps when we received Amelia, and maybe she wasn't that hard.

Well. I pulled out my journal, and the evidence is irrefutable: I haven't had to walk David around the block for hours in the middle of the night to get him to stop screaming even once! We haven't had episodes of SCREAMING for no discernable reason (there's always a reason; you just might not know what it is). Amelia WAS a difficult baby to care for.

David gets "fussy" sometimes, true. But when something isn't quite right for him, I feel like I have a sixth sense to know what it is. I can tell when his "fussiness" is just him complaining about how uncomfortable his intestines are while learning the complicated skill called pooping. (No, newborns don't necessarily know how to do that perfectly at first. They have to learn how to simultaneously tense the right muscles and relax their little sphincters and let it all out... Great drama in the meantime.) I can tell when he needs a good burp. I can just tell.

And then when I can't get him calm simply with cuddles and nursing, often all it will take to calm him down is to stand up and start walking until he's asleep (within five minutes instead of an hour of pacing! amazing!) or maybe give him to James and let Daddy bounce him on the yoga ball. He likes being bounced. Even if the bouncing doesn't put him to sleep immediately, it will at least calm him down so that he's in that nice "quiet, alert" state rather than ballistic.

He doesn't scream the entire time he's in his car seat. We give him a pacifier when we strap him in, and then he doesn't imitate a banshee. (Yes, he does accept a pacifier! What is this black magic?) He will often go to sleep instead. Amelia would scream persistently for hours upon hours no matter what we did in the car.

He allows us to put him down, and he likes the swing. Not like some mythical babies I've heard, but he likes or tolerates it long enough that I can go to the bathroom, or clip my fingernails, or eat a bowl of cereal, or do any other such activity that is best suited to a person with two free hands. It is fabulous.

I can still imagine an easier baby than this, but considering that Mr. Gregarious (James) is his father, I'm not convinced it's possible for us to actually produce one. I suspect this may be as mild as a Dilts can get.

Nursing has gone flawlessly. No problems. Had slightly sore nipples for a few days, had a little engorgement right when my milk came in two days after birth, and then it's been sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows from then on. (Only the sunshine is more like milk lasers. Milk LAZORS!)

More evidence that nursing is going along all right... David is growing pretty quickly. Amelia did, too, but she was screaming whenever she wasn't nursing, so she nursed a lot. I was hoping David wouldn't grow quite so quickly... I mean, Amelia grew quickly enough that I was soon overwhelmed with how heavy she got, and how speedily she got into size 5 diapers and 12-month size clothing. But David is as big as Amelia was at six weeks old, and he is only three weeks old. Dang. Looks like I might end up with another chubster.

Oh, he sleeps, too! A lot. Especially at night. He doesn't really wake up in the night... I mean, he kind of does. He wiggles enough to wake me up, and I offer him noms before he has more opportunity to startle himself awake. I have to make myself disturb his happily sleeping self to change his diaper once a night so the two of us don't wake up in a puddle of his pee. Ew, gross.

Now... all this is great. But lest you think I am living a perfect new mom life, no problems whatsoever, let me remind you that I also have a tot.

Amelia must have heard rumors that when you get a new baby, the parents are not supposed to sleep for the next few months (or even years! I hope she didn't hear that rumor, even if it is true...) following acquisition of said baby.

She is doing her very best to ensure that James and I are getting as little sleep as possible.

Two nights ago, for instance, she would not go to sleep. She screamed for hours while James held her down in bed... and when David finally figured out how to sleep through big sister's screams, I left him to sleep on his own and then I held her down to sleep. She finally passed out at 2am. That's a new record. I mean, maybe she did that a few times as an infant, but gosh. For the tot version of Amelia, this is a new record.

All things considered, Amelia is adjusting excellently to having a new baby brother. She likes him a lot.  She is known to exclaim, "CUTE!" and insist on holding him, and nearly smother him lovingly to death (actually quite scary for me) if I ever leave him unattended. She really loves her little brother and hasn't even once demanded we put him back wherever we found him. She is happy to have him.

All the time, that is, except for bedtime. Bedtime, don't you know, is Amelia's special cuddle time with Mommy.

Well, unfortunately... most of the time, now, when bedtime rolls around, Mommy is nursing and/or cuddling little brother. Which means that Mommy is unavailable to cuddle Amelia.

This has directly resulted in the Amelia-not-going-to-sleep-at-night problem. She had made lots of progress at learning to fall asleep without me before Dragon was born, but she still hadn't mastered it. Obviously. Hence the screaming until 2am. Oh well. The super late nights are (very gradually) happening less often.

James is having a really hard time losing this much sleep. He thinks it is partly so hard because it's more directly Amelia's fault rather than Dragon's fault. In his mind, it would have been easier to cope with lost sleep if it the newborn was to blame, because a newborn doesn't know any better. A toddler, though! Phaw! A toddler should already have adult sleep habits! (Okay, so he knows that isn't true. But he wishes it were. Oh, how he wishes.)

Sure, he is getting more video game time in the late nights while Amelia settles down from hyperactivity to a somewhat drowsy state. But these sleep mishaps are having an effect on how well his mind works during the day, which for an academic is a serious problem. Being able to think at your highest capacity is really important when your job is to mathematically prove something new and super awesome. Oh well.

Now, Amelia hasn't been getting enough sleep either. It's not just James and I who are tired. For those of you who have ever had a sleep-deprived toddler, you can see where this is going.

We have a chronically sleep-deprived toddler. Yeah. She isn't at her rosiest lately. My goodness, she is a volatile mess way more often than we parents are used to dealing with. Rosy toddlers can be a joy, but thorny toddlers without enough of those blossomy moments can really just suck. Especially when you are adjusting to having more than one child at once.

So sometimes we parents are less than stellar at fulfilling her needs. She would probably be doing even better if we weren't so physically and emotionally sapped, because then we'd be able to give her more of the love and attention she is craving, but alas. We are somewhat sapped and it is showing.

It is, however, tough to get too upset with Amelia. Her cries, though deafening, are immediately followed by wails for a hug. I think that's a good thing. She recognizes that she needs help to calm down, and even if you are really ticked at some horrid mess she's made, it is hard to stay too angry when she says she just needs a hug.

(Amelia's cries have gotten LOUDER these last few weeks. Enough so that I one point, instead of responding to ear-shattering shrieks like any normal person would, I just laughed and mourned to James that we didn't have an instrument to measure how many decibels the sound coming out of Amelia's face was. It was simply an awe-inspiring level of noise, and I just itched to measure it in quantifiable terms. Ha.)

As I said, all things considered, things are actually going fairly well. We have a new baby and a chronically sleep-deprived tot who sometimes doesn't feel like she's getting enough hugs, but! Things are going well.

Oh, what about me? Uhh... Well, as I like to shout from the rooftops... I'M NOT NAUSEOUS ANYMORE! HUZZAH!

Other than that, I am recovering pretty well. My down-there stitches hurt for a while, as could be suspected. Now they itch sometimes, as can also be predicted. I'm no longer actively bleeding (you bleed for roughly two weeks after giving birth, kind of the mother of all periods). "Down there" is doing fine.

The bad news is that I overexerted myself soon after David was born so my recovery isn't as fast as it could have been. I could tell I overdid it because my pelvis got really upset at me--sore, and more uterine bleeding, and the urge to sleep for forever.

I know what did it. We went to a science museum-type place a few days after David was born, and Amelia had a blast. I was attempting to follow James and the tot around while carrying David in the car seat, because I really wanted some cute tot pics, but this proved too much for me. My pelvis decided to start yelling, "HEY, LADY! Would you puh-leez quit it? I just pushed out a baby, and I need some time to recover! LIE DOWN!" It was kind of a bummer. I finally had the energy to chase after a tot, and then my body wasn't ready to handle it yet.

So yeah. I had to force myself to relax and not pick up the thirty-pound tot, or the ginormous boxes full of baby clothes, or the heavy car seat containing a not-so-heavy infant, even though I finally felt able to. I had to depend on James a lot more.

(My journal tells me I did the same thing after Amelia was born. I forgot and made the same mistake. Doom! Note to self: After your third baby, resist the urge to do ALL the things! I know you feel great, but you won't feel great if you do ALL the things!)

I am doing pretty well now. Again, I have energy! Yay! In the week following birth, James kept saying, "Wow. You OBVIOUSLY feel better." It was apparently like night and day. I was suddenly smiling and laughing so much more. Making jokes. Moving more like a healthy person. I don't know. You'd have to ask him to elaborate. I wasn't exactly an outside observer.

So yeah. Now... all that leaves to tell you, I guess, is the big thing that has been really stressing me out for the last week. I am now feeling a lot better than I did when I found out last Wednesday during David's two-week well baby checkup... I'm not freaking out about it anymore. I have plenty of time to freak out about it some more later.

David is perfectly healthy except for one thing. That one thing has a fancy name (hypospadias) but all it means is that his urethra ("pee-hole") is not where it's supposed to be.* Whoops. He may need a surgery sometime between six months and eighteen months old to correct it.** It's not for sure, though.

Sometime between three and six months old, we will take him to see a pediatric urologist to check it out. Until then, we won't know whether or not he will actually need surgery, but I predict that he will indeed need it.

Doom. This'd be very stressful for me, even if it's not a "major" surgery. As far as I'm concerned, any surgery is a major surgery on my baby. :( I had a really hard time emotionally this last week just because of this idea of likely surgery. On my BABY.

I think so far I have only mentioned this to James, my mom, and my best friend here in Oregon (and I guess a few others overheard when I told her).  Even though I am usually quite open about a lot of things, it was hard to talk about this for some reason.

I think it might be hard to talk about because it's a penile abnormality. It's not exactly your standard bit of conversation. "Oh hey, my son's penis is a little wonky. By the way. This isn't awkward or anything." Yeah. How do you even bring it up? It is easier to bring up the possibility of surgery before bringing up the reason for the surgery. If it had been any other body part, it might not be so hard. Oh well.

So yeah. Hypospadias. Darn it. Between this, my research to help us decide whether or not to circumcise our son (we didn't), and the nature of my work at the fertility clinic, I now know WAY more about the male reproductive system than perhaps any laywoman has any right to, ha. Possibly more than James does. Okay, definitely more than James does.

Love and milk lazors,
Jenna and Amelia and David

*The urethral opening is on the underside of the head of the penis. Yeah. Not where it belongs.
**Not correcting it will theoretically lead to problems when he's older. Like having to pee sitting down because the pee stream is... very messy, or multiple streams, or whatever. Okay, that's not too bad... But also, more importantly, difficulty with erections and such. Possibly painful erections. Important. If we want grandbabies via David, we will have to consider these things.  (Gosh, it is strange to think that my infant son will grow up someday.)

After David Was Born

Okay, so I was a bit naughty and left you guys on kind of a cliffhanger. You'll have to forgive me. I'd just given birth earlier that day, remember. And then, instead of delivering the continued story the next day as I had promised, I didn't write anything on my blog for a heart-wrenching three days. You'll have to forgive me again. I did have a newborn and a toddler to tend to, and James has been going to work for at least a few hours every day since Wednesday. (I think maybe I will allow him to go back to work all day again on Monday.)

Right. So. Fixing that cliffhanger business. So.

After about two hours of labor, I pushed David out. They put him on my belly, and he started talking and complaining about his exit immediately. Seriously, really cute baby noises. He sounded like the cute baby dragon or baby dinosaur noises you hear on cartoons and movies.

I felt much better, and I felt far better than I had after, say, my labor with Amelia. I felt pretty good, actually. Except that those private bits between my legs were a bit upset. Don't get me wrong, though, it felt much better than the sensation of having a baby trying to get out from there. They just weren't happy again yet.

For those of you who read Amelia's birth story, you may recall that I got an epidural. This time I was completely unmedicated. I hadn't even had Tylenol or anything. Or even a warm bath for pain management (cough, James). Not that I had wanted an epidural, but I have this feeling there wouldn't have been time for one even if I had demanded such a thing. So I had a bit more sensation down there in the nether regions this time with which to feel the delivery of the placenta.

Placentas are slimy, and a lot less bony than babies. It felt kind of gross coming out. I was curious how much the placenta weighed and had them weigh it. It was about a pound and a half, so definitely not record-breaking. After it was out, I can say that I was no longer nauseous.

Meanwhile, David was making cute baby dragon noises and looking around. By this point, I think someone had toweled him off some. (He hasn't had a bath or anything yet besides that quick towel-dry straight from the womb.) A few minutes after birth, the umbilical cord stopped pulsing, and someone (not sure if it was one of the midwives or the nurse) clamped the cord and helped James cut it.

David had come down so quickly that my tender tissues hadn't really had time to stretch out enough, so I had torn my perineum (the skin between the vaginal opening and the anus) a little... though one of the midwives (Anne) told me it was just a little bit. She wasn't sure it was bad enough to even need repair at first, but she decided to put a few stitches in anyway, just to make sure it heals up nicely. Again, given the lack of epidural, I could feel a lot more of this process than I had last time, even with the local anesthetic. Pokey needles are pokey. Ouch.

So yeah. More cute noises from little Dragon. Once he even made a sound that sounded a lot like "uh oooh!", and both Anne (the midwife-in-training) and Annie (the postpartum nurse) kept laughing at how adorable he sounded.

I was starving. I made James spoonfeed me lemon yogurt. Ah, I knew I had brought him for something, besides transportation to the birth center. (I don't know if he'll believe me, but I think I could have driven myself if I had needed to. It would have really sucked, but... yeah. I could've done it, frosty windshield and all! Bahaha!)

I had basically ignored him throughout labor, especially after his cold water faux pas. I'd been too grumpy to actually get upset at him for that... Ah, wait... I suppose I did use him for something during labor. I neglected to mention that I vomited during labor, and James handed me an emesis bag all helpful-like. He might've said (okay, did say...) a few encouraging words (too exuberantly, of course). Otherwise, he was just kind of an annoying, bouncy, excited, and far too happy presence in the room.

(Gosh, James is bad at containing his excitement. In the weeks leading up to birth, whenever I'd have a particularly uncomfortable contraction, James would respond by expressing glee, presumably because he was excited about the baby coming. Despite my attempts to train him to respond with sympathy for my pain instead of glee--we had plenty of time to practice this--I don't think it really sunk in. Sure, he stopped saying things like, "Yay! You're in pain!"... But um, the more intense labor got, the more James bounced up and down with adrenaline and happy excitement. Gosh. Stop being so happy.)

David started nursing pretty quickly. He was really interested in it, but it took him a little while to find the nipple. His latch was pretty good, thankfully. (Amelia had significant trouble with nursing at first, likely because she was over two weeks early, and possibly also due to disorientation and other side effects of the epidural.) David tried to find the second breast, too, but he was so bad at locating the nipple that even with help he eventually just gave up and napped instead.

But, boy! He was persistent. He nearly crawled off my chest (more like nearly launched off, despite lack of wings) more than once, and sucked and licked all over my belly and my chest--everywhere except the nipple, that is. He spent a long time looking for the noms before deciding being born had been hard work and that a nap was in order.

Once David and I were suitably cleaned up, they left us alone for a while. As I said, David fell asleep, draped across my chest. We were both still naked, and we had a warm blanket over the top of us. I still hadn't really moved since I had given birth. I think maybe they had had me scoot over a few inches at some point so they could remove the mess out from underneath me (all the amniotic fluid and blood and exciting stuff that comes out with baby) and put new, clean things there, but otherwise I was in the exact same spot I had pushed in. It was kind of nice to just kick back and relax.

Though... at this point, I was starving. Again. I had James bring me flower juice (water with elderflower syrup in it), string cheese, and a granola bar to tide me over until... well, next snack time. I think Amelia came and visited at this point.

Oh, Amelia. She did just fine. We had brought our friend Cassie Anderson to help out. Despite being woken up at 5:25am, Amelia was in a great mood. She and Cassie apparently had a grand ol' time playing and sharing snacks.

Cassie tells me, though, that when I was making mighty screams, Amelia's eyes got all wide and concerned, and she put her hands up to her mouth, and said, "Oh no! Mommy!" "Are you worried, Amelia?" "Yeah..."

When Amelia saw David, she said, "Ooh, beebee! Cute!" I think, though, that the visit was mostly for her to make sure I was okay. And, well, I was smiling and happy at this point, so I guess that reassured her enough that she could go and play some more with Cassie.

At some point, I handed David over to James, and I walked over to the bathroom. The nurse had the tap water going, hoping that would encourage me to pee, but it didn't really help. After sitting there for ages, I finally did pee, and I exultantly proclaimed, "I peed!" ... just like Amelia does. I felt a little silly for being so proud of myself, but I suppose that's okay.

Maybe three hours after birth, we finally measured David. He weight 8 lbs, 8 oz. He was 21.5" long, 14" around the head, and 13.5" around the chest. He hated it. He made his first truly distressed cries. They were actually even kind of loud. (He is so quiet compared to Amelia. Straight out of the womb, Amelia's cries were piercing, and David's are... mild squeaks.)

Went back to bed and cuddled the newborn some more. He was still naked. And, um, he made it quite obvious that his bowels were working fabulously. He pooped meconium all over me. Twice. We eventually decided to put a diaper on the kid. He soiled that one.

The nurse did a pulse oximetry test to screen for congenital heart defects, but he didn't pass it immediately, probably because he was working hard on both a giant loogey out his top end, and several giant poops out his bottom end. After he got those cleared up, we would be allowed to leave. (The pulse oximetry results had be normal before we could go home. The pushing phase of labor had been so incredibly brief, that although most babies get some help expelling the mucus from their airways during the pushes and squeezes on the way out, David did not get that benefit. He just came out so fast.)

Before we left, he soiled yet another diaper, so much so that the nurse was shocked. It was the biggest load of meconium she had ever seen a newborn produce. And this was meconium load number four. (I am so grateful that he held all that poop in until after he was born.) "Just like daddy," I commented. No, seriously. I am convinced the man child has inherited his father's gastrointestinal system. Darn it.

James had fed me many snacks by this point, but I was still starving and both he and Amelia were starving and tired and just itching to leave. Itching. They had both been ready to go right at the four-hour mark (you are required to stay at the birth center for at least four hours after the birth), but we had to stay for five hours while David was working hard on spitting up mucus and pooping out meconium. Once he finished that and the pulse oximeter read normal results, we got ready to go.

So we all loaded up in the car and headed home. Kind of. Again, we were all so starving. Obviously, we had to stop at Five Guys for bacon cheeseburgers. Then we went home and napped all afternoon. (The one lady at Five Guys who bothered to ask how old the cute baby was ended up completely dumbfounded and shocked upon learning that he was only six hours old... and that I was walking around out of the hospital and snarfing bacon cheeseburgers already. And impressed.)

Tada!

Love and bacon cheeseburgers,
Jenna and Amelia and David

David's Birth Story

[Need I remind you that I tend to reveal all the juicy details? This is a birth story. It involves my nether regions... Read on at your own risk.]

For weeks and and weeks prior to the birth, I'd been having prodromal labor... meaning that I was having some really uncomfortable contractions that never escalated into real labor. They were uncomfortable enough to make me extremely grumpy, though.

Thankfully it was on and off instead of constant. So there were plenty of days in those last few weeks wherein I hardly noticed what my uterus was doing, thank goodness. And then there were the days where my uterus was a complete and utter jerk.

A week ago, I got my membranes swept at my checkup with the midwife. That means she stuck her fingers into my cervix (that's the entrance to the uterus, located at the top of the vagina) and then manually separated the bag of waters from the cervix. It feels really, really crampy. But, seriously, compared to the discomfort my uterus had been inflicting on me for a while, it wasn't that bad.

In theory, sweeping the membranes is supposed to stimulate prostaglandin release, and thus encourage the cervix to soften and dilate, and therefore encourage labor to start. At this point, I was 3-4 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced. Emily, the midwife in clinic that day, thought I'd go into labor quite soon and even told the on-call midwives to expect my call at any time.

Only... jerkface uterus was against this idea, and besides cramping like a monster all of that day, nothing happened. The uterus wasn't too mean to me for the rest of the week. I was supposed to go get my membranes swept again on my due date, but this didn't pan out because a midwife had called in sick and things were hectic.

So I went in to see the midwife in the morning yesterday, a little frustrated that I had made it several days past my due date, especially when I really wanted to have the baby in the birth center. (I would be required to give birth in the hospital after 41 weeks, which was only a few days away.) Oh, and not to mention that I was having pretty much every pregnancy symptom in the book on top of the disgusting nausea and vomiting.

The midwife (Emily again) swept my membranes for the second time. This time, I was 4-5 centimeters dilated and 100% effaced. In the words of my sister-in-law, I was walking around with the door half-open. (Ha.) Emily also mentioned that my bag of waters was "bulging" and that she was afraid that she'd accidentally break it.

I went home and, within a few hours, my uterus got grumpy again. Soon I was having contractions every five minutes apart or so. At this point, I would still label this prodromal labor, but I guess it's hard to say. I say it's prodromal because, although they were really, really uncomfortable and annoying, they were still the kid brother contractions I'd been having for weeks, not really real ones. That said, they were kid brother contractions with an attitude, and I thought they might escalate into real labor, so I summoned James home. This was mostly necessary because I was getting really grumpy with Amelia, who was magically headbutting me in the uterus every single time I had a contraction, and jumping all over me, and... well, if you're having contractions (even the kid brother kind), this is not welcome attention. I swear the kid had a spidey sense, or something.

After James had been home for an hour or so, we decided to go on a walk since the contractions, still every five minutes, had not intensified. We walked outside, and decided the sun was too assaultive, and jumped into the car instead. We headed over to Target and walked there instead. For hours.

Sure, the contractions sucked... But I'd done labor before, and I was under no impression that anything was actually happening with them. They'd been going on for four hours now, every five minutes, and I hadn't had any worthy of the name mama bear... all kid brothers. All of them.

Frustrated, I called the midwife on call (Patricia). Her advice was to go home and take a warm shower/bath, which would do either one of two things: 1) kick real labor into gear, or 2) relax my uterus into a non-labor stupor. It did the latter, which very nearly crushed all of James' hopes and dreams. Seriously, he was more depressed than I was. Patricia had me eat a good dinner, drink lots of water, and go to bed on time, warning me that she suspected real labor would probably start in the night some time.

I had some contractions later in the night before bed, but again, these were all kid brothers. I managed to sleep through them. When I did wake up multiple times in the night, it wasn't the contractions that woke me, it was the full bladder.

Until about 4:30 am, that is. Bam. Contraction! I was suddenly awake. And oh, this wasn't a kid brother. So I pulled out my phone to time the suckers (I hate timing contractions... hate, hate, hate it), and after about three of them, five minutes apart, hurting like the dickens... I determined this was real labor and called the midwife around 4:45 am.

It was Hilary at this point... and her on-call shift ended at 6am. She thought I probably had some time before I'd need to show up at the birth center, and told me just to plan on meeting Patricia (the midwife who'd be on call starting at 6am) there... at 6am. Like... over an hour later. Of course, she said, call back if you really think you need to get there sooner, but I think you'll be fine.

I agreed to this plan at first, thinking it was probably sensible enough. I got into a warm bath, hoping that this'd soothe the pain somewhat, but...

I ended up calling Hilary back at like 5:20am to tell her I needed to go to the birth center before 6am. My contractions were three minutes apart. Oh, and they sucked. All I could think of is that these contractions sucked so bad, and boy, did I not want to be confined in the passenger seat of the car while trying to deal with one. Seriously. That plan was a no-go. Car ride now, not later. (We also called our friend Cassie to come, because we needed someone to watch Amelia at the birth center while James was helping me out.)

Poor Hilary reluctantly met us at the birth center at about 5:45am once I insisted that I really couldn't wait until 6am. I think I was right. Once we got there, I started to get very nauseous. (For the people who don't know, this is a sign that I am almost fully dilated and that the pushing stage is about to happen. I.e. labor is almost over.) We had to wait a few minutes for Hilary to show up, and during that time, I was madly pacing through contractions and keeping an eye out in the landscape for a suitable place to vomit. Because I might have to.

We got inside. I stripped immediately. Well, immediately after a contraction, anyway. I found a toilet. Baby was low. As in, really low. Pushing poop out low. My rectum felt squished, probably because it was. It was like... like... there was a baby's skull pushing down on my butthole from the inside. Kind of like that. Only this was secondary to feeling like my entire pelvic bone was trying to come out. Basically, lots and lots and lots of pressure in the nether regions.

Hilary checked baby's heart rate and my cervix as soon as I let her. Baby was fine. My cervix was 9 centimeters dilated, so she warned me that I'd probably want to start pushing any time now. "Has your water broken?" "No." At this point, Patricia showed up and took over. Anne (a midwife-in-training) showed up, too...

I got in the bath, only to discover that James had failed miserably at making sure the water was warm. It was pretty chilly. Too chilly for the baby, so I wasn't going to be allowed to give birth in the tub, and the water wasn't all that effective at relieving the pain. I supposed that was okay, because my only specific plan for the birth was to do whatever I felt like, but I was pretty annoyed. Not gonna lie. Annoyed.

I elected to stay in the water for a time, though, because of the buoyancy. I started to basically bob up and down with each contraction, because that's what my body felt like doing. I suppose this was getting baby down into the birth canal. In the meantime I was still annoyed at the cold water. Oh well.

Patricia and Anne kept saying things like, "Wow. She is so calm and focused!" between the contractions. I'm not sure what I would have called it. Focused, I guess. Calm...? I might have been. I think there should be a different word for it. I don't know what it is. I felt very primal though. Maybe that's it.

I was bobbing up and down for a contraction in the tub, when... SKIDOOSH. (Not the Wuxi finger hold!) "My water just broke." It felt like there was Diet Coke up there and someone had dropped some Mentos in. Only it was exploding out my hoo-ha. (Pleasant? Uhhh... not really...) Followed immediately by a baby's head.

And that's when I stood up and somehow got out of the tub. I'm not sure who I used to get out. James, Patricia, or Anne... or all of the above, maybe. In any case, I got out of the tub, and sat promptly on the birthing stool. And at this point the pressure in the nether regions got really bad, that and the stinging. Oh, the stinging!

The stinging is the stretching of the... everything. The perineum and everything around it. We could feel David's head when I got out of the tub. It was so squished that it was super wrinkly. (The midwife later told me one dad asked if that was baby's brains when the same thing happened with his baby. Nope. Just very squished head.) Someone commented that he didn't have much hair. I said "can't" here, I think. I was trying to say that "I can't tell if that's baby's head or just me", but talking was impossible. The stinging felt like I was ripping in half, right down the middle. I have some important bits right down the middle. I was worried about them.

I got fed up with the birthing stool, and waddled kind of spread-eagled over to the bed, because I had this idea that side-lying would be comfortable for me. Only as soon as I laid on my side, I realized... No, no way. Not the side. So I turned onto my back, slightly propped up, and with my legs wide...

And then I really, really, really had to push. I'd kind of been pushing before, but now I pushed. And I vaguely remembered that screaming helps with pain management. So I let out some mighty screams. Best pain management technique ever. It really did help. It also really helped to keep in mind that David was practically almost out.

With a mighty scream, I got his head out. And also, a lot of amniotic fluid. I don't remember if he made any sounds at this point. I wouldn't have realized that he was partly out had the midwives not told me. With another mighty scream, and a lot of my body urging me to just get that sucker out, I got the rest of him out in a giant gush of fluid. James was fortunate not to get splashed.

And then I felt much better. It was 6:39am, about an hour after we'd arrived, and about two hours after labor had started.

They put him on my belly, and he started talking and complaining about his exit immediately. Seriously, really cute baby noises. He sounded like the cute baby dragon or baby dinosaur noises you hear on cartoons and movies.

And then...

Cliffhanger!

I guess this is a good enough place to stop for the night. I can fill you guys in on the rest of the experience in the birth center with the new baby tomorrow or something.

Love and Wuxi finger holds (skidoosh!),
Jenna and David

Excerpts

So... I am all blogged out. But, you, a hardcore Jenna and Amelia fan, whine, you haven't blogged at all in the last few weeks! How could you possibly be all blogged out?

My dear, dear fanatic. I apologize. But it's not really my fault, you see. It's all the online LDS distribution center's fault. No journals in stock. So I resorted to an online journal instead. And now I can type, just like I'm blogging, every single day! And I do. I type up nearly a thousand words every night. I can hardly stop myself. A side effect of switching to online journaling is a markedly decreased motivation to blog. Or even post Facebook status updates.

This is very bad news for you, I know. And I was being super thoughtful and kind tonight, and I imagined your predicament. I came to the conclusion that providing you with a few excerpts from my online journal over the last little while wouldn't hurt anything. Be warned... I may not post anything after this for a while. Most likely the next entry will be about Dragon's birth!

2 Sep 2014

I've been agonizing over what to name our son. What to name him, what to name him...? Now, see, I tend to like more traditional boy names, if I like them at all. David. James. Benjamin. Joseph. Henry. But, for whatever reason, I cannot actually imagine naming this particular child any of the more traditional names. And I absolutely despise most other names, so... dilemma.

The name that I am most tempted to name him is Dragon James Dilts. Seriously. This is precisely the sort of name that even a year ago I would have had difficulty keeping my face straight and my voice level had I actually run into a parent who revealed that they had just named their son this name. But it feels increasingly... comfortable.

We've been calling him Dragon for about half of the pregnancy. I was wearing a shirt with a fire-breathing dinosaur-type creature on it one day, when I asked Amelia what we should name her baby brother. She pointed to the creature on my shirt, so we laughed and said, "Oh, we should name him Dragon, should we?" My reaction was simply that under no circumstances would I ever write the name Dragon on a birth certificate. Ever.

But it just feels increasingly right, and everything else just feels increasingly wrong. I have stated that we will name him James Griffin Dilts, and somehow that... doesn't fit? I haven't any idea why. That seems like a perfectly good name, yes?

At this point in time, I confess that Dragon James Dilts bothers me primarily because other people do not unanimously approve. Oh, it seems the entire Dilts family approves. My mother, I believe, thinks it is a little strange, but is open to it. My dad... he hasn't said so, but I have this feeling he thinks naming a baby Dragon would be a horrid mistake. And I seriously worry what my extended family will think[, ...but t]hey are polite enough to not vocalize any disapproval they may have... so far, anyway. [My friend] told me [my old employer] gave significant pause upon learning what we planned to name the baby. Perhaps it was simply because it was just unexpected. After all, I don't think I seem the type to name a baby something unusual.

Anyway, as for the events of the day...

This morning I had my appointment with the midwives. James wasn't planning to go to campus today at all, so I left Amelia at home. Unfortunately, she woke up right when I left anyway. Blegh. The appointment went normally. I saw Chris. She is nice. She thinks Dragon isn't terribly big, maybe about the same size Amelia was. I'm measuring right, he's moving a ton, he's head down, and his heart rate is great. Not much to report.

Came home. James took Amelia out on a very long walk/adventure. I spent the time getting some last-minute me time reading stuff on the Internet. Then I drove James to the airport. Uneventful drive... Amelia was giggling at James the whole time we drove over there. She cried when he left, and then fell asleep on the way home.

Only then once we arrived back home, she didn't stay asleep through the car-to-bed transfer. Augh, this is so frustrating! This means her nap lasted a grand total of... oh, I don't know, twenty minutes? That's not even a full sleep cycle. It was very... sigh. Almost heart-breaking. As I mentioned, the attempt to hold her in bed until she fell asleep was very bad for my nausea.

Food prep has been practically impossible throughout pregnancy. Preparing food is pretty much a surefire way to trigger an aversion. I therefore find myself unable to get myself anything more complicated than a bowl of cereal. This isn't particularly good news for feeding a toddler healthily. It's not particularly good news for feeding myself healthily, especially when I already seem to have an aversion to healthy food in general.

Oh goodness. So tonight the big craving (another word for the only thing I can think of that actually sounds palatable) is a giant waffle/pancake-type thing absolutely smothered in fruity sauce and/or syrup and/or whipped cream. I feel guilty about going out to buy something like that, but there is no way in a million years I'll be able to make it myself in my current state. Nor does any of the food available in the house sound palatable. And being hungry is making my nausea worse. And there is the hope that Amelia will eat something while we're out. I have not been feeding her well.

Not that feeding her IHOP food is feeding her well, but it's feeding her something. Gagh. We are WAY over our budget. I've been so craving-driven and aversion-avoidant that I've used practically all our food stamps on random things like cheesecake, expensive Costco casseroles, Papa Murphy's, etc. Food can be pricey if you go about it in the right way. Anyway, I will feel bad if I do end up going out for food. It's just... what do I do?

I eventually decided to go to Shari's, and I invited Paul and Cassie to come with. I needed something to eat before I got so sick that I was unable to function. Amelia didn't eat. It was supremely frustrating. On the plus side, I did get to eat something that resembled a good meal. And I got to socialize with Paul and Cassie. Huzzah. Still just frustrated about Amelia not eating anything or sleeping today. I wish James were here to help. Oh well.

 5 Sep 2014

Today Amelia woke us up around 9am. Not too bad. She let me ignore her for a surprising amount today. I've been practically adhered to the computer screen. Perhaps not the best. I read a ton about car seat safety, and then I also entered several giveaways. Statistically speaking, perhaps it is worth it to enter these things, because you may actually win... but I wonder. I entered one for an Amazon gift card, one for a Diono Radian RXT car seat, one for Bamboobies nursing pads, one for a $500 Southwest gift card, etc. I find myself offering up a quick prayer at times telling Heavenly Father how nice it'd be to win some of these things, and honestly, I wonder how much he pays attention to prayers like that. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that He has a personal rule to not interfere with things like giveaways. I wonder how closely related a giveaway is to a lottery or other gambling-type activities in His mind.

In any case, all the reading about car seat safety has me feeling extremely nervous about holding Dragon as a lap infant for our trip to Pennsylvania in December. Not only that, but after gate-checking his carseat in order to hold him, I'll worry about the safety of the car seat. Sigh. Gosh, but I wish we'd had loads of cash with which to buy a fourth ticketed seat for our family. I should tell James that really, we should never, ever hold a lap infant again. It's just not worth it, I don't think. Perhaps it'd be a better idea to ask James' parents to ask around and see if there's an infant car seat just hanging out in someone's garage waiting to be used for a second baby or something. In any case, a borrowed seat might be as trustworthy as our own after it's been checked luggage.

I seriously never want to check a car seat again now, and even more, I never want to hold a lap infant on a flight either. It's not safe for so many reasons. Thinking about the physics of what could happen on an airplane... makes me shudder. My own body weight could crush the kid dead. Doom.

Anyway, as mentioned, Amelia was actually somewhat successful in entertaining herself today. It helped that I made myself look away from yet another compelling article on car seat safety and really focus in on her at least some of the time when she came for loves. We read a few books. We had a bubble bath together. We ate some yogurt and some Cheerios.

The big impressive thing of the day... Amelia pooped in the little potty all by herself. Well, that's not the impressive part. The exciting news is that she dumped it into the big potty and flushed it away all by herself. It was marvelously odd to not have been able to see the (possibly) giant turd before wishing it hasta la vista, but I know it existed because of the skid marks on the little potty bowl, the general turd smell in the bathroom, the delightful fecal remnants on Amelia's bumhole, and Amelia's adorable sense of accomplishment. But still. I never saw it. Weird.

Amelia napped some... I am having difficulty napping lately. Not sure why. I wasn't able to talk to James much today. He checked out of his hotel at 4:45am, apparently, and spent most of the day visiting Denali National Park. I assume he is not responding to texts because Denali is in the absolute middle of nowhere, but I am feeling somewhat lonely without his little love notes.

I read some about homeschooling while I was quasi-napping. Usually when I think about homeschooling, I wonder if I'll be capable of doing that with all my health problems, but for the first time, it occurred to me that perhaps it would be better for my health (particularly my mental health) to homeschool. I would forever be engaged in learning, and I know that really does a lot to increase my life satisfaction. This is a very liberating thought.

I also find myself feeling (already!) that I am ready to start "working on" kid number three. I'm still pregnant with number two, and only a few days ago I had practically resigned myself to having only two children for a while (and felt guilty about how having a third might negatively affect our current family!). Um. The priesthood blessing James gave me just a little bit ago mentioned trusting my instincts and my logic and such, and um... how does this work when I feel like my instincts are pendulous? Back and forth, back and forth. No more babies. More babies ASAP. No more babies. More babies ASAP! I don't know. Right now, three babies sounds perfect. A girl, a boy, and one more girl. Then stop? Eek, James is going to seriously facepalm when he hears I've switched back over to the "more babies ASAP" camp.

After the nap, we walked over to Cassie's and it wasn't long before Amelia was obviously starving and I hadn't fed her... and I had a killer craving for Wendy's chicken nuggets, so that's precisely what we did next. Amelia's kid's meal was chicken nuggets, fries, and chocolate milk. The toy was a tiny board book. She likes it. I ate a gajillion chicken nuggets. After I finished my first helping, I felt hungrier than I had before I started eating, so I got some more. Ha.

 6 Sep 2014

Today I was quite ill when I woke up. Amelia was very insistent that I wake up and get out of bed though. We talked briefly to James on Skype. Amelia, of course, cheered up significantly in talking to him. She loves him a lot. After the Skype call we dinked around a bit until it was about time to go get him. There was a football game today, so I wanted to start driving over to the airport a bit early. About the exact time I wanted to go, though, Amelia demanded a yogurt. I decided to feed one to her before going, and I still got to pick up James on time. Traffic was bad, but not awful. It was, of course, stop and go around the stadium, and I was surprised that the turn from MLK Blvd toward the Delta Highway was blocked off, but even going the long way up Coburg and onto Beltline, everything turned out fine.

James' reunion with Amelia was adorable. I had gotten her out of the car and we were waiting under a tree next to the drop-off zone. I caught a glimpse of James before Amelia did, and I said, "Do you see Daddy?" She gasped, yelled, "I see you!", and then ran over to him with a giant grin, and gave him a big hug. James had to let go of his suitcase, and it started to roll away. It was moderately amusing to see him trying to stop it from rolling into the road while still hugging the tot.

Drove home (not using Centennial, ha), and it wasn't too long before the three of us were all asleep in a row on the bed. We were asleep for three hours or so. James was so exhausted.

He was wonderful and made two grilled cheese sandwiches for Amelia and me. Then, while he was watching Amelia, I took a long, glorious, warm shower and washed my hair and face well and everything. Huzzah! I had kind of washed myself off in the bath while he was gone, but it is nearly impossible to really get myself as clean as I like with Amelia in the tub/shower with me.  I feel so much better.

Amelia and James were reading books together for a long time tonight. They read a couple books about pregnancy and life with a new baby, and she was very interested. I don't know how long an attention span is normal for a two-year-old, but I think it is safe to say her attention span is significantly longer than normal. She and James must have been reading long picture books designed for older kids for maybe twenty minutes. Maybe more. And then James needed to spend more time preparing for his Elders' Quorum lesson tomorrow, so I took over on the reading-to-tot duty. I don't know how much time I spent reading to her, exactly, but maybe forty minutes later, she started losing patience actually reading the words on the page, so we switched to talking about the pictures, and then we did that for maybe another twenty minutes or so before I was done with that activity. She was so sad about being done. This child is definitely interested in books.

Of note: at some point after reading the books about new baby, James told Amelia that soon we would have a new baby and that Amelia would no longer be the only baby in the house. Her clear response was, "No, no! I'm the baby!" I think she understands a lot of what we say, and she surprises me sometimes with what she says. I think she understood that we were going to the airport in order to get Daddy, so perhaps she is actually kind of understanding when we say that there is going to be a new baby soon. I think it is also helping to leave some of the baby gear out, like the car seat and the playard. Amelia especially likes playing with the car seat. She puts the baby doll into it and pushes it around.

James got distracted from his laptop and was talking to me for a while. We turn around... "Amelia, what are you doing!?" "I'm typing!" she announces, quite proud of herself. Indeed, she was. She looked like a perfect little office secretary... well, except for the part where she's completely naked except for shoes.

7 Sep 2014

Sacrament meeting was mostly okay. We sat Amelia in our laps again during the sacrament service. She does not understand why she is being made to sit still. She does, however, really enjoy talking about the pictures of Jesus we can see from our seats in the foyer. I think it would be even harder for her if we were somewhere she couldn't see the pictures... like in the chapel. Hur. I think we should make a little "sacrament focus book" for her. Given her adoration of books, I think it would help her to sit still this way. Not only should it help her sit still, but I think this will help her to learn. After browsing through store.lds.org, I think the Gospel Art Book will be absolutely perfect. I have not yet decided whether we should buy one, or get two (one for just Amelia to abuse and love, and one for the family). They are only $3.50. Huzzah! That's amazing.

8 Sep 2014

Went to my midwife's appointment. Saw Hilary today. Dragon is still head down with his back to my right, with his butt up toward my ribcage. Heart still beating and all that jazz. He's doing just fine. I didn't really gain any weight this week. I'm shocked! After all those huge stacks of pancakes and bucketloads of chicken nuggets, etc. Seriously, I was expecting to have gained a few pounds, ha. Oh well. I did not lose weight this week. I was at 160.6 lbs. Hilary gave me a list of things to bring to the birth center, so I guess I can start really actually packing for labor. Huzzah! I am officially far enough along to be allowed to labor in the birth center on Friday. It will be hard for me not to hope too hard for labor to start during week 37, ha.

[...]We tried to get Amelia to nap, but it was just obviously not working, and she was just obviously not tired enough to nap. She'd giggle, and then look over at us and squeak, "HI!" and lick us and all of that. So... we gave up on the nap idea for a bit. I'm getting nervous that this is going to be more than a phase... After all, she has always seemed to need less sleep than other children I know. And naptime has begun to be more and more Amelia resisting nap and less and less nap. Oh well. We shall see what happens. Hopefully she goes back to napping soon. I think I will at least attempt nap everyday, and not fight too hard if she refuses.

Our new car seat arrived today... a Diono Radian R120. It is fancy. I spent a long time making sure it was installed correctly, including the rear-facing tether, which is a pretty unusual feature. I eventually determined that we did indeed need the angle adjuster that is sold separately. Sigh. I was hoping we wouldn't need it, but it really is a rather long seat. Amelia clearly fits into it better than she fits into her current one, though, so...

The only problem is that the angle adjuster is out of stock everywhere online. I sent an email to Diono to ask how long until this backorder issue is solved. I have put blankets underneath the seat for the moment. I will be far more comfortable once I can get my hands on a real angle adjuster, since that was what the seat was crash-tested with (and passed!), but in the meantime this will have to do. After all, we still need to be able to drive...

I did put in an order on Amazon for the angle adjuster. Theoretically it will ship in 1-3 months. Doom. I also ordered some LR44 batteries, a travel-sized luggage scale, and an indoor humidity meter... all things I would like to have prior to our holiday travels, but don't need now. I have wanted a hygrometer for some time now, because it is sometimes hard to know when it is too humid or too dry in our room before problems start happening. For instance, a little bit ago, I was getting up to pee four or five times a night. I'd pee, and then I'd try to resist taking a huge drink... but I couldn't resist! I was so thirsty! It was seriously disturbing my sleep. I eventually figured out that it was simply too dry in my room. Once I pulled down the humidifier, I only needed to get up once to pee in the night, and I wasn't thirsty. Sleep was much better after that.

Anyway. We went to FHE at Paul and Cassie's. [Stuff happened.] Came home and got ready for bed. Tonight Amelia pointed to a picture of a puppy and proudly enunciated "the puppy!", then pointed to a second puppy and proudly said "the puppies!". Yikes! Singular vs. plural AND articles!

And then, while we were saying family prayers, she said her own prayer... I don't know what she was praying for, but it clearly involved puppies. She was folding her arms and ended with an "amen". It was adorable.

It was about midnight by the time Amelia and I climbed into bed, and despite her lack of nap, she seemed no worse for wear. This is not a good sign for this merely being a phase! Oh no!

9 Sep 2014

During the early afternoon, I called the pediatricians' office's nurse help line to ask about Amelia's possible vulvovaginitis. For about a week, on and off, she's been complaining about irritation down around her vulvae and vagina. And, in the last couple of days or so, she's been producing a very stinky smell down there. I haven't seen much of any discharge and it wasn't pink, but I called for advice. The nurse's advice was to do baking soda baths three times a day (add a few ounces to the bath water) to help restore a good pH balance in the vaginal area. Did that. Also set up an appointment for the evening.

Amelia didn't like the idea of a nap when I first posited this to her. But I was super smart and just offered to cuddle in bed for a while. She did like this idea. So we cuddled for a while, and eventually she calmed down enough that suddenly the idea of napping didn't seem so scandalous. So I put her in a diaper instead of panties, got her into a shirt, and then we cuddled to sleep. She napped for two hours, and then she was as happy as could be, and pretty hyper.

James got home shortly thereafter, and he made us Ramen noodle soup for dinner. I dropped him off at [someone's] house so that he could read [...] Alcatraz versus the Evil Librarians [to said someone], then I went to the pediatrician with Amelia. The pediatrician said Amelia's nether regions looked fine even though it kind of sounded like a yeast infection, so really the only advice she added was to put diaper rash cream on it. She knew enough about cloth diapers to know that ammonia buildup [on the diapers] was a possible culprit, but not enough to know that diaper rash ointments are all no-nos with cloth diapers... The ointments will build up on the diapers, void the warranty, cause them to lose absorbency and basically ruin them. Thankfully, I am super nerdy and had already researched this a long time ago and knew that coconut oil was a cloth-safe alternative to diaper rash creams. It is soothing for babies and has all sorts of antimicrobial, antiviral, antibacterial, and antifungal properties, so... it's perfect. Plus, it's a food item, so food stamps will pay for it. :) Went to Fred Meyer in order to get some before picking James up [...]. Got a handful of other things, like animal crackers, chocolate almond milk, and a new hook for hanging my purse on the wall. Got James. Went home.

Amelia was AWFUL for the car ride from the pediatrician's office to Fred Meyer, and throughout the store. The reason? Her prize from the doctor was a small sheet of bug stickers. She would not leave the office until I had helped her remove them all and put them on her shirt. But then she kept messing with them... and dropping them... and folding them on themselves... and basically, all the things you can possibly do to a toddler's sticker in order to make the toddler upset. So during the car ride, she'd drop one. "OH NO! WHERE IS? OH NO! WHERE STAH?" And while crossing the street, she'd drop another. I don't know where it went, so I attempt to get her to keep walking... because, well, it's the middle of the road. "OH NO! WHYYY?!" And then she flopped herself down onto the asphalt (again, still in the middle of the road) and screamed. Yes, it was glorious.

On the plus side, I do think Amelia genuinely loves her new car seat. It is much more comfortable for her, I think. It took a little bit of time to figure out how to get the harness tight enough on her, but everytime I ask her if she likes her new seat, she answers very, very emphatically, "YASS." Another plus... there is so much more room in the back seat now. We might even be able to fit two more people back there instead of just one.

10 Sep 2014

Oh my heck, last night was simply awful. Awful. Amelia was obviously exhausted out of her mind, but she could not fall asleep. We were all in bed around 10:30pm, and I think she finally passed out nearabouts 12:30am. Like I said, awful. We need to figure out how to teach her to fall asleep, but the problem is, I also have great difficulty falling asleep many nights. It is a good night when I fall asleep within an hour of lying down. Two hours isn't too unusual. So how am I supposed to teach the chitlin how to fall asleep quickly? Augh.

Anyway, thanks to the awful sleep quality last night, I was quite exhausted and had a migraine and all that jazz. But I forced myself out of bed because I had an appointment with Dr. Mitchell (my psychiatrist). Thankfully, James was wonderful and such and stayed home to watch Amelia for me while I went to the doctor alone. This was especially nice because she hadn't even woken up yet and sleeping tot is always a good thing. (Well, maybe not always, but...)

The appointment went fine. I was very, very nervous to confess that I had just up and stopped taking Wellbutrin (suddenly, even) without discussing it with anyone. I think the official stop had happened back when I was so sick that I needed IV hydration. I just stopped. And then I felt fine without it. In fact, I am feeling better than I have in years. Better than I have in my entire life, possibly. I don't know if the Wellbutrin was kind of numbing me down(/up?) somehow (while still making me feel leagues above where I felt during the depression), but the fact is I feel fabulous emotionally despite feeling the opposite way physically. I am still quite sick, but I feel... more dynamic, somehow.

Dr. Mitchell was somewhat nervous about letting me stay off, but she agreed to let me try. She reviewed my entire psychiatric history with me first, summing it up with, "So, you were severely depressed for an entire decade?" ... "Yup." Well, I'm still very excited to be off of it. It's not cheap for one thing. We are getting an excellent price for it with insurance, but it costs us roughly $420 each year--not insignificant, by any means. And then, well, I am pregnant and planning to breastfeed (for FOREVER! I mean... not forever... right...), and it's nice to not have to worry about what it is doing to the baby. Or me, for that matter.

Home. Felt yucky, but wanted to go out and about again, so the three of us all went to the library briefly. I checked out a few books on babies/toddlers, some of which I've read before. For instance, I checked out Dr. Sears' The Fussy Baby Book again because I need to remind myself of reasons why I perhaps shouldn't get pregnant again immediately. I still think I'm absolutely crazy, because I'm super sick, and yet I am already pining for baby three. I'm not even done baking baby two. What is wrong with me...!? So yes, I am attempted to reconvince myself that it wouldn't hurt to just wait a while. Right...? I SHOULD NOT NEED CONVINCING.

Anyway. We decided to move the new car seat to a different seat location in the back since right behind the driver's seat wasn't really working well. The new configuration is the tot's seat behind the passenger, and the infant seat behind the driver. I was hoping to fit the tot seat in the middle, but the Graco infant seat is far too wide to allow anything right next to it. Now we know... when baby three comes, we cannot use our current infant car seat and will need to buy a skinny seat. That, or get a new car. Replacing seats sounds far less stressful and less expensive than getting a new car...

There. Lots of love and stuff,
Jenna
and Amelia
and Dragon