Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Our biggest problem at this point is that he keeps waking her up with kisses and head pats. Whenever I scold him for this act he responds, "But I'm just loving her!"
Below are two videos of Sam and Clara. The first is the last conversation Sam had in utero with Clara before I gave birth. It's a bit lengthy, but it makes me smile.
The second is their first face to face meeting at the hospital. You can hear Sam say, "Two hands!" Meaning that Daddy is holding Clara with two hands like Sam was taught at the sibling preparation class he took last October.
I love these kiddos!
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Clara Jane Drury
November 9, 2010
6 pounds 12 ounces
I'm eager to share her birth story and Sam's reaction to her. But for now I'll leave you with a picture and the happy news that she is a sweet and peaceful little babe. Ah!
Monday, November 01, 2010
Sam: "What's AllSainDay?" (said as one word)
Me: "All. Saints. Day. is where we remember Christians who died and are now with Jesus."
Sam: "They died and now they are alive?"
Me: "That's right. First they were alive. Then they died. Now they are alive again and living with Jesus."
Sam: "Oh. How did they die?"
Me: "They died from all different kinds of things."
Sam: Did the Indians get them?
WHAT!?! I don't EVER remember talking to Sam about Indians. And certainly not Indians that "got" people. Not sure where that came from.
Friday, October 29, 2010
John: What were they worshipping?
John: Should we worship cows?
John: Who should we worship?
John: Anyone else?
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
"One study, yet to be replicated, looked at children whose mothers suffered from major nausea and vomiting during pregnancy. When the children reached school age, 21 percent scored 130 or more points on a standard IQ test, a level considered gifted. If their mothers had no morning sickness, only 7 percent of kids did that well. The researches have a theory...two hormones that stimulate a woman to vomit may also act like neural fertilizer for the developing brain. The more vomiting, the more fertilizer hence, the greater effect on IQ."
Brain Rules for Babies
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 06, 2010
I love reading other people's birth stories. Love, love, love them. It's a bit of an obsession. It recently occurred to me I hadn't shared Sam's. So here it is, 2.5 years late in all of its minutia.
December 15, 2007: John and I went to hear the American Boys Choir sing Christmas Carols at the Princeton University Chapel. One of my fondest memories is timing contractions while listening to the boys sing. From the morning of the 15th until the day Sam was born, I had contractions every 5-20 minutes non-stop. This did not bode well for sleeping.
December 16, 2007: I barely slept the night before. I told John that he should probably not drive to Glassboro to preach today (he sent Dave Ward who was eager to deliver a Christmas sermon). Despite my mom’s protests, I insisted that I wanted to walk to Marshall’s and look for winter boots. This was a pivotal moment when I had to decide whether I was going to buy snazzy, sophisticated black leather boots or practical I’m-playing-in-the-snow-with-my-kid boots. Perhaps it was the contractions, but I went for the latter (and I still shake my head in disbelief that I passed up those great boots).
While I was trying a pair of boots on, Ursula, my midwife, called and said she had been thinking about me and thought it might be a good idea to come to the hospital for a quick check (yes, her name was really Ursula, yes, she had a thick German accent, and yes, we made all kinds of jokes about her eight tentacles coming in handy to catch the baby).
When we got there I was shown to a small room where they measured my contractions. Even though the monitor showed regular contractions that were fairly close together, I only felt them every 8-10 minutes or so. I still had not dilated any further, so Ursula sent me home saying that she suspected I would have my baby the following day (I had dilated to 2 cm a month earlier). As we were going out the door, the nurse pulled me aside and whispered, “I think you’ll be back tonight.”
At 1 pm I was standing near our front door, preparing to walk over to Holly’s house for lunch when my water broke. I called Urusala who told me to try to eat something, take a nap, and come to the hospital around 3 pm. So I ate a few bites of dinner (I should have eaten more), and tried to lay down for a nap (I should have slept more). A little after 3 pm we left for the hospital (I had tested positive for Strep B which meant they wanted me to come in soon after my water had broken to administer antibiotics to keep the baby safe).
Upon arrival I went to visit my dear friend Amy who had just had a baby the day before. I left her room, walked back to my room, and announced I was not leaving the room until the baby came.
By this time the contractions were still irregular but were painful. I was dilated to 3 cm and Ursula said I would most likely need pitocin to speed the labor up since I was Strep B positive and my water had already broken (it was nice to have a non-interventionalist midwife--if she was suggesting intervention I felt like I could trust her—generally speaking, they want Strep-B babies out within 12 hours of water breaking). John timed my contractions while Holly wrote the times on the board in her ridiculously neat teacher hand writing. John wrote the word “Pitocin” in the Greek alphabet on the board and for some reason, I found it really comforting to sound out the Greek letters in my head while breathing through contractions. Crazy. I was told that the new anesthesiologist would begin a shift at 7 pm. So at 7 pm on the dot I requested an epidural. I had told myself that if I was going to get pitocin than I was also going to get an epidural. Forty-five minutes later the anesthesiologist arrived and delivered an epidural (he was a bit short-tempered, kicked my mom out of the room who is as sweet as pie and yelled at a nurse…twice). The pitocin was administered soon after. (I’m glad I requested an epidural the minute he came on shift. Apparently, had I waited even 30 minutes I would have been fifth in line which would have put the epidural hours and hours away from when I wanted it).
I tried my best to sleep, but I was too excited. Plus, I was having quite a bit of pain in my lower back, which the epidural was not reaching. Around 10:30 pm Ursula checked me and announced I was at 9 cm. As she walked into the hallway I felt the urge to push. John called her back and she gave me the go-ahead to push away.
Around 11:15 pm I said something along the lines of, “Maybe this baby will have a Dec. 16 birth date!” John responded, “No! I want a December 17 birth so he’ll have been born exactly on his due date.” Not a good thing to say to someone trying to push out a baby. I think I glared at him. With Charles Hammer’s classical guitar Christmas music playing in the background I pushed into the wee hours of December 17th.
I had a very interesting nurse who kept letting go of my leg or forgetting to complete her counting to 10. She’d get to 6 and then kind of trail off. John stepped up and was a great coach, giving me ice chips, holding my foot, and counting. At one point I heard a popping noise and flipped out. “Something popped! Something popped! Did you hear that?” The midwife calmly said, “Yes, I heard it, but it’s okay.” Turns out she was just trying to keep me calm and didn’t want me to know that MY TAILBONE HAD JUST SNAPPED!
Pitocin didn’t sit well with me and I oscillated between announcing, “I have to push!” and “I have to throw up!” Throughout this 2 hour push session I kept thinking, “Man, these epidurals are overrated.” I found out later that the epidural had worn off and they had forgotten to tell me about that little button you can push to administer more drugs. Chalk that one up to experience.
On December 17th, 2007 at 12:46 am Samuel James Drury was born, weighing in at 7.2 pounds, 20.5 inches and lots of dark hair. I had him in my arms for about two minutes before passing him like a football to John so I could throw up in the proper receptacle. I lost more than the normal amount of blood and wasn’t allowed to get out of bed for a while. Despite these setbacks, I remember feeling so grateful watching John dance around our (finally) empty and darkened room with Sam in his arms with Charlie Brown’s Christmas music playing in the background.
Lord willing, I’m looking forward to posting my next birth story sometime at the end of November 2010...or more likely, 2.5 years later.
Monday, July 12, 2010
I was so startled I didn't get a chance to say what was on my mind which was: "Hey! This guy is stealing my groceries!"
Thankfully, my tongue-tied-ness paid off because apparently the guy was just trying to help me load my groceries. He took pity on the pregnant lady trying to load her car in 90-degree weather and just wanted to help (though a simple, "Can I help?" would have been appreciated).
Had this happened in Jersey I would have Maced the guy. Apparently the mid-west is different.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
I was pleasantly surprised (read: shocked) at the ease of driving for 12 hours in a car by myself with Sam. He was a doll. Highlights from the drive include:
1. Two hours into the trip Sam asked, "What was a happy part of your day, Mommy?" Followed by, "What was a sad part?"
2. At every. single. stop. Sam asked, "Are we in Indiana now? Can I pet a llama?" (There is a petting zoo near our new house and I've been promising him a trip there. I'm realizing we need to go asap.
3. At the first hotel we stopped at we were told, "Sorry, we don't have any rooms." To which Sam replied, "Do you have a stable?"
So here we are in Indiana, waiting for John and the truck to arrive early next week. I think it will be a while for this to all sink in. Right now it just feels like we're on a vacation.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
With all of these extra ultrasounds I had been hoping to find out the gender a bit early. The 15 week scan, however, showed a modest baby who was very good at keeping secrets. Maybe we'll get more cooperation two weeks from now.
In other news, Sam is stuck on what he thinks is the perfect baby name: Dumbo. Dumbo Drury.
Monday, May 17, 2010
The end of March had John and I sadly making our way to the ER thinking that we had just lost the baby. I was absolutely shocked to see a beating heart. Unfortunately, right above that beating heart was a large subchorionic hematoma (which is just a fancy way of saying "blood clot." The baby appears to be perfectly fine and is growing right on target, but with a hematoma this large (larger than the baby), the fear is that if it dislodges it will take the baby with it or somehow damage the placenta.
This is a wait-and-see situation. It's not really "safe" until the hematoma is gone. Most of these hematomas reabsorb by about 20 weeks, but I'm also aware of the women who have carried babies under these conditions only to lose the baby at 20 weeks. If it persists past 20 weeks there is an increased risk of pre-term labor. Despite these risks I think we're in a good spot. We're taking it a day at a time, operating as if all will be well, and doing our best to not imagine ourselves in scenarios we are not directly facing.
So we wait. I'm feeling fairly optimistic at this point. The last two ultrasounds showed the hematoma shrinking which is certainly a good sign, especially considering how large it was to begin with. I'll do another ultrasound in two weeks.
So thanks to all of you who have been praying, and who have randomly stopped by our apartment offering support. The meals, cards, and babysitting have been a huge blessing (particularly on those random days when I'm stuck in bed).
I'm hoping to share better news late next week!
Friday, May 14, 2010
So there we were. Sam reading a book about tigers and me reading Oprah magazine.
Suddenly, Sam said, "I need to tell the baby something."
"Okay," I said, curious where this was leading.
He put down his book, placed both hands on my belly and leaned in until he was about two inches above my belly button. Then very slowly and very loudly he declared, "BABY! THIS IS YOUR MOMMY."
And pointed to a picture of Oprah.
Monday, May 10, 2010
For those of you old enough to be my father, you'll know him as "The Fonz".
For those of you old enough to be my sibling, you'll know him as the Bluth family's lawyer.
For those of you old enough to have been an out-of-wedlock child of mine conceived in my late teen years, you'll know him as the author of the Hank Zipzer books.
Anyway, I was walking down an aisle at Wegmans when I spotted him about 20 feet away. We locked eyes and a large, goofy grin became plastered to my face. He paused as we passed, looked in my cart, and said,
"Look at that! You're very healthy."
(I had milk and eggs in my cart).
I replied, "I love 'Arrested Development.'"
"Well it's pretty crazy about you too," Henry said as he he rubbed my left arm.
And then I continued on my way.
Later, in the checkout line, I heard a woman say to the cashier, "Henry Winkler was here. Did you see him?"
"I did!" I said. "He touched my arm."
She squealed, ran over, and rubbed my arm.
Oh happy days!
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
Generally speaking, I'm not one to collect souvenirs from far away places. I will, however, purchase items that I plan to use on a regular basis. Hence the sandals from Germany, the canisters from France, the suitcase from Singapore (which didn't last long, by the way).
This was the souvenir we took with us when we moved from Doylestown, Pennsylvania in 2007:
And this is the souvenir we'll take when we move from Princeton this June:
Monday, May 03, 2010
ME: One day, Jesus and his disciples climbed into a...
SAM: Big boat.
ME: Jesus walked to the back of the boat, put his head on a...
SAM: Pillow and fell fast asleep.
ME: While Jesus was sleeping in came a big...
ME: And the disciples were...
SAM: Soooo afraid.
ME: And so they went to Jesus and said...
SAM: THROW HIM OVERBOARD!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Two days later Sam was, once again, laying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. This time he yelled, "I JUST NEED SOME LOVE!"
He might be feeling a bit neglected.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Friday, March 05, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Last night, while bundled up in his blanket, Sam yelled, "I'm Baby Dumbo!" And then more pensively, "Or Baby Jesus."
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Sam: Look Mommy! A square!
Me: You're right, Sam, it's a square!
(Thinking in my head: "Whoa! My two-year-old is a genius. Sam then points to another tile.)
Sam: And there's a circle and there's a triangle. (Pause before pointing to another tile.) AND THERE'S A HELICOPTER!
Monday, January 25, 2010
I went first. I slowly began to open the door--I got the door open by about 6 inches when I heard Sam's firm voice, "Close it."
John and I quickly closed the door and returned to our bedroom laughing like maniacs.