Primary colors

This morning, I was for Obama to get the nomination for the Democratic ticket, but now I'm not so sure. I watched the live streaming video on cnn.com of the California Democratic primary debates tonight, and man, I was so blown away by Hillary I couldn't believe it. I absolutely loved her.

It was hilarious - a woman wrote in to the debates, saying that she was 38 years old (I'll be 38 this Sept.) and that as long as she's been old enough to vote, there has been either a Bush or a Clinton on the ballot. I forget what her question was, but I had to laugh - that's obviously true for me, too. Hillary answered the question extremely well, saying that a Clinton had cleaned up well after the first Bush, and that we could use another Clinton to clean up for the second. I laughed out loud at that one.

What impressed me about her was her leadership and her concise, clear, brilliant answers to everything. She was so sharp. Obama has great ideas and somewhat good answers, but IMO he isn't as good of a public speaker. He says "uh" a lot, and I felt he didn't answer the questions as specifically or decisively as Hillary did. They're both excellent candidates, though, and obviously in November I'll vote for whoever is on the ticket. But I'm really feeling Hillary tonight. As of tonight, I'm voting for her!

In praise of the Cesarean

From the moment we started studying eagerly for our Big Delivery in our childbirth classes, it was made quite clear from the beginning that the non-surgical exit strategy (yes, I'm avoiding the V-word) was The Holy Grail of Birth Experiences. I read horrifyingly dismal statistics about Cesarean recipients having higher rates of postpartum depression, citing feelings of failure as a mother and being "cheated" out of a "natural" birth experience as contributing factors. I read message boards online where women urged other expectant moms to resist doctors/surgeons/OBs who advised them to get a c-section. Some women even bragged about how they completely obliterated their entire pelvic region, broke their tailbones, and popped veins in their necks while delivering "naturally", often while unmedicated - triumphant about their gladiator-like endurance in the name of Doing It The Right Way.

Forgive me for not being impressed, but...can you say OWWWW?

Anyway, like the good childbirth class graduate that I was, I finished my third trimester with the intention of getting Benny out myself rather than having a surgeon do it, but as it turns out, guess what? Things didn't happen that way. As for me being ready for labor, Fort Knox would have been more yielding and open than my body was. The doctors who examined me said that it would most likely literally take days before labor would start.

Yeah, that's what I said, too. (Good thing I had a private room.)

Ultimately, as it should be, the deciding factor was the safety of our son. During induction, his heart rate would dip every time I had the tiniest, barely noticeable contraction (I've had sneezes that felt more intense than these stupid things). Clearly he was not responding well to even the slightest labor. My doctor, the OB surgeon, and several residents and nurses all advised a Cesarean.

No depression, no mother-self-esteem issues, no angst, no feelings of being cheated. I was bloody relieved.

And you know what? It was the fastest, most pain-free, relaxing, pleasurable birth experience I could ever have imagined. I never had to endure any labor first, so the most pain I had the entire day was the stupid pitocin IV upon admittance (my veins are very elusive, apparently, and my hand got stuck several times like a pincushion - not fun). The entire process, from the spinal to being sewn back up, took less than an hour. And I just laid back and enjoyed the whole thing, David in scrubs by my side holding my hand behind the sheet, both of us so relaxed and relieved that we knew our son would be okay.

Best of all, because I wasn't distracted by my own pain, I was able to really bask in the moment of our son's birth and listen for his first cries - truly one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard - and really savor the beauty and miracle that had just taken place.

This is not to say that this wouldn't or couldn't happen to V-birthing moms. But it did happen to me, a Cesarean mom. And I would do it again. Happily. Yes, there was a lot of pain (and related profanity) endured the next several days recovering in the hospital, but it was purely physical. I didn't have to worry about compounding the pain of labor with worrying about it endangering the life of my child. That would have been much worse. And as it turns out, it could have been, deadly, in fact, had we tried to push him out, because his umbilical cord was wrapped - tightly, and twice - around his poor little neck as he was scooped out.

So yes, there was definitely pain in recovery, but I'll tell you this: my nether regions weren't blown to smithereens like in some of the gruesome birthing stories I've heard from some V-birth moms (I was very freaked out about this unpleasant but likely possibility). I got to spend extra time in the hospital, which was amazing - the nurses and doctors were wonderful teachers who spent lots of time with us, and we felt superbly taken care of. And the fact that I had such a positive birth experience put me in such a relaxed and happy state of mind that I instantly bonded with Benjamin. It was definitely love at first sight. The entire time in the hospital, even through the pain, I was overwhelmed with how blissed out I was to be a mother to such a perfect little boy. I can't help but think that avoiding labor - for me, anyway - contributed to my ability to achieve this mindset.

Will I try a V-birth next time? Yes. But if my doctor and OB suggest a Cesarean for the health and safety of our second child, I'll jump at the chance. I just wish women weren't so judgmental of eachother for which birthing way is "the best", with the V-birth moms touting superiority over c-sectioners, which happens more often than you think. After all, creating a baby is one of the most incredible, breathtaking miracles in the entire universe. How that baby makes his or her entrance is comparatively irrelevant to that joy.

So, for that matter, is how a mother decides to nourish her child - yet another subject that elicits ridiculously heated controversy and closed-minded opinions that the well-intentioned foist unabashedly upon new mothers. But that's another post entirely...

Stroller-ing 'round the neighborhood

Today was a balmy 44 degrees! Break out the bermuda shorts!

Obviously those of you who live in more moderate climates don't understand (lucky for you). This is a heat wave for us poor Wisconsinites. We've been dealing with bitter cold single digits, like many of you in the upper midwest, so the Hamlin-Lewellen family pounced on this chance to get outside without freezing our gazoingles off. David and I bundled up Benny in his carrier, which has two layers: a little fleece lined sleeping bag thingie that Auntie Pammy and Uncle Andy (David's brother) gave us for Christmas, and a snowsuit-material cover that fits over the top of the carrier like a hairnet.

So our little guy is way toasty, as you can see.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the amazing technology of modern kiddie gear, you can get entire sets of carriers strollers and carseats that are all compatible with eachother. The carrier snaps into a base in the car to become the carseat, and before the bambino is big enough to sit upright in the stroller, the carrier also snaps onto it so you can start walking from day one. It's amazing.

So David and I took our little one out again, and enjoyed a lovely stroll as a threesome. I have loved the few times that we've gotten to go out as a family - it feels so official to all be doing something in unison, as a trio. Ben is very soothed by motion, and like the band concert, the walk put him right to sleep. Tomorrow I'm meeting a friend from church at Mayfair, the ubermall on the west side of town, for dinner and some shopping. Jen hasn't met Ben yet and I can't wait to introduce them.

Other great news?

• The pounds are flying off because of breastfeeding, which is now going very well. I have turned into quite the Guernsey cow. I have joked for much of my life that I wanted to figure out a way to give my extra pounds to someone who needed them. This is it!!
• Speaking of which, Benjamin only weighed 5 pounds 11 ounces at birth, and lost a good chunk of it before coming home from the hospital (which is normal, but he was already so small). Today, his 6 week birthday, we weighed him. He's now 7.5 pounds, and has graduated to a new diaper size! Our little boy is growing up so fast!! *sob*
• I found out today - it was in the paper, and David told me about it - that the fabulous OB who did my c-section, Sheldon Wasserman, is also a Democratic (yay!) State Representative who is lobbying for legislation that would revoke licenses from incompetent doctors more quickly and efficiently. I love this guy! And guess what I just read on his website? He has a son named Benjamin!
• I got yoga and swimming green lights from said fab OB today, my 6 week postpartum checkup. Oh how I missed my favorite abdominal stretches while pregnant...Cobra and Locust asanas, here I come!

Ah, it's almost midnight here. Considering that I got less than 4 hours of sleep last night (it wasn't entirely Ben's fault; I just went to bed late and had to get up early for the doctor's appointment), I should probably get to bed for a few hours before Benny needs his milk maid. Good night!

Or should I say, Moooooooooo......

Mama's Day Out

So a few days ago, I said to David, "I'm going insane. I need to get out of the house." David was very understanding and said that he was surprised that I hadn't gone crazy with cabin fever sooner.

I am definitely a "homebody" type; I love to stay in with PJ's on, reading, watching TV, playing on the computer (of course), etc. etc.. So this predisposition has helped me in a big way to remain sane being tied to an infant 24/7. Had I been more of a thrill seeker type, I would have gone homicidal a long time ago. I've actually enjoyed the relaxing time nursing (once I got over the soreness, yowza mama hooboy) with reading, chatting on the cell phone, and listening to my iPod. I've been mowing through books and magazines like you wouldn't believe, now that I have 8+ hours a day where I have to stop whatever megaproject I'm involved with to feed Benjamin.

But even my heightened appreciation for all things domestic had to come to an end. When sleep and showering start to become the highlights of your day, you know you need to do something or you're going to explode.

So I told David that I was getting out of the house. He was excited for me and told me to go for it, to not worry about getting back for the next several hours. I pumped a bottle for Benny and went into my room to get dressed.

This was another major milestone. I hadn't worn jeans since the beginning of my 3rd month of pregnancy - that would be June of last year. I've lost a whopping 32 pounds since Ben was delivered, and the number on the scale told me I should easily have fit back into my black jeans - but I was still wary. Everyone says that you shouldn't expect to be able to fit into your "normal" clothes again this soon.

But I was curious, so I tried them on and not only did they fit, they weren't even that tight! I was so excited. I was going to get out of the house, and I was going to wear something other than black yoga pants! Wahoo!

I brushed my hair (major luxury) and put on tinted moisturizer/SPF with a little eye makeup and some lip gloss. I hardly recognized myself. Aside from isolated lipstick incidences, I hadn't worn makeup since Christmas dinner. I felt like a total movie star.

Favorite jeans, makeup, really good hair day, and a few hours to myself? I could barely stand it. I got in my car - my car! (which, by the way, is still on the same tank of gas that David put in it the day we brought Ben home on Dec. 21st) - and was so overwhelmed with excitement that I couldn't decide where I wanted to go. I drove around for a while before deciding to treat myself to lunch at Bravo!, the new Italian chain restaurant at Bayshore. I didn't even care that it was 8 degrees out. Freedom never tasted so good. (The eggplant parmesan was pretty damn good, too.)

I then raided Bath and Body Works, where I loaded up on smelly things that were ridiculously on sale (75-90% off) and paid for them with a Christmas gift card from Mimi, my mother-in-law. Then I went to Barnes & Noble and bought a slew of magazines and books to keep me busy while nursing, and also got Ben a bunch of Dr. Seuss and Little Golden Books.

After that, I still had some energy and some time, but I had already been out for two hours and I couldn't really think of anything else I wanted to do, so I went home. After all, it's not like that was my last gasp at freedom - I'm going to make a point of getting out as often as I can from now on.

It's just going to require a bit more planning now, with a newborn.