Chloe - 2 Years Old

I've started writing this post on January 24, 2012.  I'm not sure how long it will take me to write it.  Today is Chloe's second birthday.  Two years ago today I was probably taking a walk around the block, taking a bath, eating greasy Chinese take-out, or watching the Titanic as I labored with Chloe.  That's not true.  I would have been doing that yesterday.  Two years ago today I was probably cuddling with my teeny, tiny 6 pound 8 ounce baby girl.  I was probably frantically calling a nurse in the room to watch me every time I attempted to nurse her.  I was probably thinking I never want to leave the hospital, because someone should be watching Chloe's every breath even when she was asleep.  How would I manage to keep her alive at home?  Two years later Chloe is very much alive.  She is full of life and energy and attitude.  I can hardly keep up.

At two years old Chloe weighs about 27 pounds and 3 ounces and is 34 inches tall.  She wears size 2T clothing and size 4-5 diapers.  She has a size 6.5 shoe.  She became huge nearly over night.  It took me changing and dressing Abram for two days in the hospital to realize that my baby girl is no longer a baby at all.

At two years old Chloe can communicate almost all of her wants and needs.  She speaks mostly in sentences, and she can understand everything we ask her to do.  Whether she actually listens is another thing.  She learns new words every day and usually after the first time hearing them.  Something funny Chloe is saying right now is, "No, Abram, that's Mommy's boobie," and "Abram eats boob."  I was worried for a long time that she remembered breastfeeding given her obsession with boobies.  For a long time she would just talk about everyone she knew and their boobies.  "Papa has boobies?"  "Dada has boobies?"  "Griffin has boobies?"  But she is so bewildered by my breastfeeding that I'm certain she doesn't remember the act at all. 

Chloe is still very advanced in the motor skills department.  She can scale any wall or piece of furniture.  Between stools and chairs it seems there is nothing that is unreachable in our house anymore.  We let Chloe go from the upstairs to the downstairs all on her own.  We even trust her to play upstairs or downstairs alone if we are on the main floor.  Sometimes she likes to play on her own like that, but usually she grabs one of us by the finger and says, "Come on, Mama, play kitchen (which is actually pronounced more like chichen) downstairs."

At two years old Chloe likes to play with her kitchen the most.  She loves to "cook" food for us and serve it up on a plate.  She waits eagerly as we pretend to eat it.  Everything is "really hot" and as she gets more and more excited things get "RE HOT!!  REEEE HOT!!"  She loves to play Mr. Potato Head.  She always makes a perfect potato head with perfect anatomy and then at the last minute she will stick an ear on top of his head or eyes in the back of his head.  It cracks me up.  One time she made this super happy boy potato head and said "Papa!" and then she made this evil looking girl potato head and said "Grammy!"  Sorry, Mom, but you know that was hilarious.  She also likes to play blocks.  She asks you to build a house so that she can knock it down.  She loves books.  She'll sit in the corner and read books to Griffin or to her babies.  The crazy thing is that she babbles on about actual things that are happening in the book.  When I get a new book she will listen carefully as I read it the first few times, and after that she can tell almost the whole story based on the pictures when she reads it to herself. 

Chloe loves watching Monsters Inc., Finding Nemo, Lion (Yi-on) King, Dora, Diego (Eggo), Sponge Bob (Bunge Bob), and cartoons (toons).  She asks to watch each of her three favorite movies on a daily basis.  I don't mind watching Monsters and Nemo, but for some reason Chloe only watches Lion King up to the point where Mufasa dies.  She always loses interest right as Timon and Pumba debut.  I swear if I watch Mufasa die one more time I'm going to fall into a deep depression.  So I try to steer clear of Lion King whenever possible.  Here is a picture of Chloe and her friend Zane watching Toy Story.  I pledge allegiance to the television...

At two years old Chloe can count to 14.  She knows all of her shapes including octagon and pentagon.  She knows all of her colors and can sing her ABC's (though not perfectly).  She knows tons of animals and their sounds.  She even knows some really weird animals.  She knows all of her body parts including things like heart and thumb.  She is always surprising me with the things she knows.

At two years old Chloe's ultimate favorite thing in the world is not a thing at all, but a person.  She is still obsessed with her Papa (my Dad).  She also has a deep love for her Grandpa (Paul's Dad).  She loves her cousins, and when she is playing I hear her talk about Oli, Ave, and Tay.  One morning she said to me "I miss Avery.  Oli?  Tay

Chloe loves to dance.  She loves The Laurie Berkner Band and she can sing the lyrics to most of her songs.  I love watching her dance to the music.  She has always been a great dancer and always moves with the beat.  She loves to dance with her Dada who is also a great dancer, but whenever I try to dance with her she usually gives me a look of disgust, puts her hand out to single stop, and says in a firm voice, "stop."  She can sing the words to all of the songs I sing to her at night or in the car.  It amazes me.

At two years old Chloe loves to hold her baby brother (under strict supervision, of course), put the pacifier in his mouth, rock him in his car seat, and watch me change his diaper.  She always asks to help.  She can sometimes be too much help.  Baby brother is not amused by having his pacifier shoved in his face when he isn't even crying or while he is sleeping.  He doesn't love being mauled with hugs and kisses when he is trying to sleep.  He doesn't love having blankets and toys put over his face (nor does Mama approve of this behavior), and he doesn't love having things thrown in the direction of his head when she is mad that he is breastfeeding, because "I want juish, NOW."

Obviously, I could go on forever about Chloe and what she is up to these days.  I'm going to cut this post off now since I've been writing here and there for a month and still have more to say.  Chloe, Mommy loves you so much.  It has been so much fun staying home with you, though I think my hair would fall out if I did this full time (it would have all kinds of Greek yogurt, play dough, and boogers stuck in it).  You are seriously hilarious, and I feel so blessed to be your Mama.

Chloe's First Boo Boo

This is the detailed account how Chloe's toe got to looking like this:

 "Boo boo.  Toe broken.  Drop can beans."  (Note: The last sentence should be spoken in the form of a question.)

That was about three weeks ago.  Over the weekend her toe "broke" again when the nail fell off.  It is looking a little more like this:

Our version of the story is much more devastating as it involved one full night of calming a screaming toddler (and a newborn baby) and several follow-up scream sessions all the while operating on two-hour sleep intervals.  Let's just say we are all happy to be on the road to recovery!

A Chloe Conversation

In the Target parking lot two weeks ago...

Me: As I was walking in I thought to myself If they have an Amigo I'm totally using it, but when I looked they only had wheelchairs.  I wouldn't have even cared if people looked at me funny.

Paul: Oh yeah, I can see you now in that Amigo.  Someone would just have to look at you and you would be all, "WHAT?!  My pussy hurts!!!"

Chloe: My pussy hurts!  My pussy hurts!

Big Girl Bed!

The upstairs of our house has been in a state of disarray for the past few months.  Ever since we decided to renovate the nursery we have had boxes and furniture and rugs and clothes strewn about our bedroom.  The full size mattress that took up one half of the room was particularly annoying.  I had to sneak behind it to retrieve my underwear and pajamas, while Paul used it for his closet slinging shirts and jeans along the edge as he saw fit.  We had enough and decided it was time to turn the bed over to Chloe. 

I ordered some bedding online from Target.  I knew it had to be something with animals on it so that she would think it was cool.  Also, it had to match her existing paint colors and window coverings because the thought of painting another room of our house was just devastating.  I found this adorable bedding with owls and porcupines on it.  We started to get her excited about a big girl bed and when the bedding finally came we brought it up to her room while it was still in the box.  We opened it up and made it seem like the biggest deal in the world.  She was so excited!  She rolled all over the comforter and made us lie down with her to read books on it.  I washed it up that night and the next night we moved the bed into her room.

Before

Side Note: If you look carefully on the floor just to the right of the crib you will see a Chloe turd.  One night I was giving Chloe a little naked time when she must have dropped a random turd.  She finished her poop in the hallway.  I found this random poo two days later when it was all dried up.  I thought Griffin did it, but then I remembered the naked time.  Ooops!  And in case you are wondering, that is some sort of safe in Chloe's room.  For now it stores diapers.  I'm sure later down the road it will store Baby Brother on occasion, or vice versa.  The vinyl wall cling I ordered from Etsy and the rug is from Pottery Barn.

After

The first night I tucked her into her bed and read her books like I normally would.  Then I left her with her books and her "babies" and she read them books for about an hour before falling asleep.  She never tried to get out or anything.  The second night was the same thing, except when she woke up in the morning she tried to get out of her room by herself.  Then the third night she tried to make a break for it after I finished her stories.  Paul came up right away, wrangled her into bed, and read her a story.  She has been doing so well., and up until we had grandparents staying at our house every other day waiting for Abram, she was sleeping in a little later, too.  That bed looks to be about a million times more comfortable than her crib. 

Chloe has now been in her bed for about two months.  She has only come out of her room in the middle of the night a handful of times.  She normally just walks in and asks for Mama or Dada and one of us will tuck her back in.  We lie down with her for a few minutes and then go back to our room.  Also, she has fallen out of bed three times.  I really wanted to put rails on the sides of the bed, but Paul refuses.  He says that she only falls out when we forget to tuck her in.  I told him that if she falls out one more time she is getting rails.  We'll see.

When Chloe wakes up she usually hops out of bed, opens her door, and runs into our bedroom.  Every now and then she will stay in her bed an call for me.  I still can't get over the fact that my sweet baby is sleeping in a full size bed.  She is such a big girl!

I don't really have a lot of images from Chloe's nursery before we started converting it to a big girl room.  We never really finished decorating the room since she came so early.  Here is a picture of the dresser that Paul refinished for Chloe's room.  The dresser was my Mom's when she was a little girl.  Paul's cousin, Carmen, gave us the mirror, Paul's sisters bought Chloe the ballerina pig piggy bank, my friend Kelly provided the hand painted letters, and the elephant lamp was from Pottery Barn.

We used to have a changing table in the room and a rocker that have since been replaced with a toy storage unit. 

Before

After

We still have some decorating to do, but the room will have to do for now.  If we ever get around to decorating Chloe's room I'll be sure to post an update.

A Few More Pics

We had to stay in the hospital for two nights, because we had to wait 30 hours after the birth for newborn screening.  That meant we wouldn't be discharged until after 9:30, so we stayed a second night against our will.  The extra night brought us a few hospital visitors including Monica, Kelly & Matt, and Julie.  Since we had Abram on a weekday we didn't have nearly as many visitors as we had with Chloe.  We were so happy to finally be discharged on Thursday around 10:00 a.m..  Here are a few more pictures from the hospital.

Go Broncos!

Heading home!

The Birth Story

I had an appointment with my midwife on Monday, January 9, 2012.  I had a non-stress test that lasted about 20 minutes that indicated that the baby was doing well.  I met with Gail, one of the two midwives in the practice, after the test.  Since I mostly met with Amy, we discussed what had been going on lately.  I told her how Amy stripped my membranes on Thursday, which caused a lot of pain, but didn't seem to yield any immediate results.  She asked if I wanted it done again, and I told her only if it helped.  She checked me and said that I was at 3-4 cm.  She gently "stretched" the membranes, which didn't hurt at all.  After that she looked at me and in a very stern tone told me that as soon as I was sure I was in labor that I should call the office immediately, and then go straight to the hospital.  She felt certain that the labor would go quickly. 

I woke up Tuesday morning, January 10, 2012 at 4:00 a.m. to a light contraction.  I was so excited that it was actually painful.  It is funny how you yearn for pain toward the end of a pregnancy.  I was so sick of Braxton Hicks contractions!  I grabbed my phone, sat up in bed, and started timing the contractions.  They were about five minutes apart and a minute long.  Not very painful, but I knew they were real.  Chloe woke up shortly after and so Paul decided to get up, too.  I took a bath, ate some breakfast, folded clothes, etc. all in an effort to stay busy to see if the contractions would stop.  They didn't stop, but they didn't get stronger or longer either.  I called the midwife office, and Gail was on call for a short while longer.  She told me to head up to triage, because the worst they could do is send me home.

Doug and Bobby Kay were at our house on call for the weekend.  We packed our bag, said goodbye to Chloe, and headed up to the hospital.  We made a pit stop at McDonald's on the way since I was sure they wouldn't let me eat anything delicious in the hospital.

When we finally got to the hospital it was about 8:00 a.m.  My triage nurse, Amy, checked me and said I was still dilated to a 3.  They did a non-stress test, which required me to lie down for a half hour.  I didn't have much in the name of contractions during this time, but I did get to take a little nap.  When I woke up the nurse suggested we take a walk for an hour to see if we could get the labor going.

Paul and I walked around the hospital for about 45 minutes.  I had a few good contractions, but nothing terrible.  When we got back the nurse checked me and said I was definitely a 4 and it felt like I was in labor.  We watched some television, signed some forms, and waited to be admitted. 

A nurse brought us up to our delivery room at about 11:30 a.m.  It was the best room in the hospital.  We had a huge corner suite with a view of the skyline.  We met our nurse, Stephanie, who said she was there for me to give me whatever kind of birth experience I wanted.  She was totally on board with supporting me in a natural childbirth, but said if I opted for an epidural she would be fully supportive of that, too.  Stephanie hooked me up to some fetal monitors, and then we talked for about an hour about my last birth experience, what I wished went differently, and my hopes for this birth.  My midwife, Amy, was on call by then, and she showed up after about a half hour. 

40 Weeks, 4 Days, and 4 cm :o)

Paul discovered that we had access to dozens of free on-demand movies.  We selected The Adjustment Bureau.  I ordered a hospital lunch, but was told I had to get "something light," so I couldn't opt for the chicken fingers.  Bummer.  We were trying to watch our movie.  We are very serious television watchers.  But the nurse kept coming in every hour to do fetal monitoring.  It wasn't terrible, though.  I was sitting on the birthing ball, and she would just come in and hook me up to the portable monitors.

At around 1:30 p.m. Amy asked if I wanted her to check me to see if I had made any progress.  I told her sure as long as she was very gentle and didn't break the bag of waters.  She said, "Wow!  I'd say you are a 7.  You are amazing."  I was pretty excited, except I knew that meant that the hard part was just around the corner. 

I jumped in the whirlpool tub for a while.  When I got out the contractions were coming on stronger and closer together.  Paul did such a great job applying counter pressure to my back during each contraction.  I sat mostly on the birthing ball, so that he could sit on the bed and practically squeeze me to death during each contraction.  It helped so much.  My nurse said she could tell I was about to go through transition, because I would curl my toes and clench my fists during each contraction.  She asked if she should go get Amy at around 3:00 p.m. to see if I had made more progress.  When she and Amy walked in I was having my worst contraction yet.  This one actually brought tears to my eyes and gave me the shakes.  That is exactly what happened during my labor with Chloe, so I knew I was almost there. 

When Amy checked me I was at a 9 and I told her just to break the bag of waters so that I could begin pushing.  Pushing for me is the hardest part.  I remembered how much it hurt with Chloe, so I was a little frightened to do it again.  They told me to do whatever I felt.  I tried bearing down a little and then before long I couldn't help but push.  It was so painful. 

It didn't take long and the baby's head was crowning.  The worst part was that the contraction stopped so I had to sit there with the baby's head half way out waiting for the next contraction.  There may have been some profanities exclaimed.  At the next contraction I pushed with everything I had.  It seemed like the head would never end.  Oh my... it burned so much.  Once I finally got the head out one shoulder came out quickly.  Amy said, "that's it, you're done... wait a minute... one more big push.  His other shoulder is stuck."  That isn't what you want to hear.  I summoned some sort of super-human strength and pushed his other shoulder out.  I have never felt more relief in my whole life.  I just kept saying "Thank God he is out!  Thank God he is out!"  I pulled him up to my chest where he screamed his little head off.  I told him I knew how he felt! 

I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy at 3:38 p.m. on January 10, 2012.  He was 8 pounds, 11 ounces and 20 inches long.  We named him Abram Eugene.  More on that later.

Holy crap I'm glad that is over!!

I swear pushing a baby out without an epidural is like having an out-of-body experience.  You are there and you are feeling every single sensation, but you are so out of your damn mind it is like you are looking down on yourself writhing in pain.  When it is over you only have flashbacks.  So much of it has been immediately blacked out.  I can remember looking at Paul.  I had my right hand gripped to the back of his head holding on for dear life.  He was right there cheering me on and supporting me.  He is such a wonderful husband and father.  And also an amazing birthing coach.  I can remember Amy telling me I could do this over and over again.  I can remember Stephanie getting right in my face after I said I couldn't do it.  She said, "yes you can.  You are doing it.  Remember how I told you Amy was going to give you instructions to help?  I need you to listen to the instructions."  I remember shaking off the self-doubt and bringing myself to the present.  The instructions were to grab my legs behind my knees and put my chin down.  Then I was told to push, push, stop.  Push, push, stop.  Something like that, so that I wouldn't tear.  I followed the instructions, which helped get the baby out basically in two contractions.  I am so grateful to God for blessing me with such an amazing team.  When it is over you are at a loss for words.  So grateful that it is over, so proud of yourself for doing it, so amazed at the precious baby screaming on your chest.

The worst part about not having an epidural is that you have to sit there afterward shaking uncontrollably while being stitched up as the nurse presses on your uterus.  You can't really focus on the baby, because everything after having the baby is so painful.  The adrenaline is pumping through your body so hard that it takes everything in your power to stay in the present. 

We waited a while and cut the cord.  The nurse weighed the baby while I received my stitches.  He cried for two hours straight, I think.  The nurse gave him a bath, weighed him, checked his vitals, etc.

Dada cuts the cord.

8 pounds, 10.6 ounces

Paul called our families, and they came up at around 4:30 p.m.  I ordered dinner: fish and chips.  I figured I deserved it after such an amazing feat.  Chloe wasn't terribly interested in meeting her baby brother.  She mostly just wanted to eat my cheese and crackers and play around with all of the cool stuff in the delivery room.  I was so happy to see my big girl.

Kisses!

My babies!

Overall, I'd say I had a great birth experience at the hospital.  It was certainly safer for the baby than me staying home until I was 9 cm like I did with Chloe.  By the end of the experience I had fallen in love with my nurse and my midwife.  After my nurse dropped me off in my recovery room she sat on my bed, gave me a huge hug, and told me I should write a book.  She told me she had a great day and that she was so happy to have been a part of my birth.  I told her I felt the same way. 

I don't know what I did to deserve two wonderful birth experiences.  I cannot thank God enough for my infinite blessings.

Introducing Abram Eugene

Our beautiful son, Abram Eugene, was born at 3:38 p.m. on January 10, 2012.  He was 8 pounds, 10.6 ounces and 20 inches long.  We are completely in love!