The "Song of Roland" and other lullabies

I am not a "lullaby person." Frankly, I find them inane. (Go ponder the words to "Rock a Bye Baby." Think about what they actually mean, and then tell me that's something that's appropriate to fill small children's heads with.) I think singing them is insulting to the intelligence of the child you're trying to get to sleep. I didn't sing them when I watched other people's children, and I can't bring myself to sing them to Shirley.

But when she's fussy, Shirley likes to have someone talking to her. And as the sleep deprivation that life with a newborn entails makes me feel very brain-damaged, I have a hard time coming up with things to say to her that aren't as puerile as your average lullaby.

Enter the "Song of Roland." In a constant attempt to overcome my lingering insecurities about growing up redneck, I keep thinking I need to read more "great works of literature." So since I have a book with the complete text of several medieval epics, I've been reading it aloud to her.

I'm about halfway into it, and I've come to a conclusion: Roland is a punk. And even after reading this far, I'm still not sure why they named the song after him. Although you may not like your stepfather, it's just tacky to volunteer him as the French hostage to the Saracens. This being a medieval epic, I'm sure his stepfather Ganelon's treacherous plotting with the Saracens to have Roland and the rest of Charlemagne's rearguard killed off will result in a very messy death for Ganelon, but all the same, I'm still hoping that Roland bites it as well.

"Great literature" or not, I'm still not convinced that "Roland" is any more appropriate for small children than "Rock a Bye Baby." While less people die than in the Old Testament, their ends are recounted in far more graphic detail. Of the demise of one Saracen lord, who gets multiple spear wounds and keeps on fighting, the poet writes (John O'Haggan translation) "Were he Christian, what a baron he!"

Oh well, it'll still probably require less counseling to set her straight than if I start singing lullabies.

labor fun

Because I spent pretty much all of February having contractions, the doc sent me in for a non stress test on March 3 (which was my due date) to see how Shirley was tolerating them. And the answer was "badly," so she decided to "augment" my labor. (I had to suppress a cheer when she told me she was inducing me.)

I also have a morbid fear of needles. (Boy did I ever pick the wrong profession, eh?) So I figured an epidural would be the last choice for pain relief. But by the time I got to 5cm dilation, I was so hung over from the other drugs for pain (which made me care less about the pain, but didn't seem to reduce it much) that when the nurse explained that I could be conscious and alert and reasonably pain-free with an epidural, my irrational fear of needles aimed at my spinal column seemed a lot smaller in comparison.

Then Shirley's heart rate started doing bad things, and (although I was still hung over at this point) I knew we were headed for C-sectionville as soon as the nurses started putting me in weird positions to relieve the compression on her umbilical cord. It wasn't how I would have chosen to have her enter the world, but she obviously needed to come out!

In other news, my beloved employer and the California Nurses Association are at loggerheads once more. After negotiations stalled out yet again, the union held a vote a couple of weeks ago on whether or not to authorize the bargaining team to call another strike.

Which meant that as I was getting admitted for the induction, as soon as the nurse knew that I worked at the hospital, she said "We're having a strike vote in the Sierra Room--if you hurry you can still make it!"

Thank God maternity leave is an iron-clad excuse to avoid picketing!

Shirley!

As I'm currently on large amounts of prescription pain-killers and uncertain of my ability to be lucid, this will be a short post.

Here's a picture of me 39 and a half weeks pregnant. (I designed the sweater with the last pregnancy as a maternity sweater, but miscarried early. It was so wonderful to be able to wear it this time.)

Shirley arrived Tuesday morning at 0241 on the 4th of March. 5 pounds, 11 ounces, 19 and 1/4 inches long. (I'm sure there's a metric equivalent for those, but doing math is way beyond my capacity right now.) I'll save the gory details of labor for another post, but the emergency c-section wasn't really how I'd imagined her arriving in the world.

Knitting update

One of the most annoying things (other than that whole pain part) about the contractions is that ignoring them makes it very difficult to concentrate on anything else. Not only can I not recall the last time I was able to read a book from start to finish, but I haven't been able to do much knitting. (As I hate frogging projects for any reason, if I'm worried that I'm going to mess up the project because I can't concentrate enough to follow the directions, I don't work on it.)

I did, however, manage to finish the last sleeve on Arisaig. But because I started it when my measurements were 34-28-34 and I'm now 38-38-38, it's going to live in the cedar chest with my lace shawls until after Shirley arrives and we see what my final postpartum measurements turn out to be before I finish sewing it up and add the neckband and ties. If it's meant to be, it'll fit me eventually. And if not, I had a lot of fun making it. But in the meantime, there's no point in getting frustrated that it doesn't fit me.

I'm also working on a different wrap cardigan in the Jade Sapphire silk/cashmere Brian bought me for my birthday last year. I hope I've got enough yarn to finish it, because I've only got 1200 yards and they've discontinued anything even remotely like that colorway.

And I won't post pics of it, because I do want it to be a surprise. A dear friend of mine has been going through infertility treatments, and having a rough time with side effects from the meds. So I knit her a little something as a reminder that she's in my thoughts and prayers. Loosely inspired by Snatchel, it should give her a good laugh if nothing else.

Dumb things to say

Because I'm still having contractions and feeling rather peevish, I'd like to present a list of the top five stupid things that people have said to me since I've gotten pregnant with Shirley, as well as what I wish I'd said in response:

5. [Said by one of the nurses in Kansas as I was making a frantic dash down the corridor to the restroom:] "Is the morning sickness still bothering you?"
[Preceded by retching noises and the spontaneous creation of a large mess in the hall] "No--I always interrupt morning report to sprint to the toilet!"

4. [From one of the nurses at my current employer when the preterm labor started:] "When you go home, put your feet up and have a couple of glasses of wine. If the contractions stop after that, it's not real labor."
"Gee, I could have sworn alcohol was bad during pregnancy for some reason." (For a list of reasons why, look here, here, and here .)

3. [From one of the triage nurses at on a visit for preterm labor:] "You don't have any stretch marks--that's disgusting!"
"Does the fact that I had morning sickness for five months make you feel any better about my body?"

2. [From several close relatives, who shall remain nameless:] "You will call us when Shirley arrives, won't you?"
"No, we thought we'd just send a telegram."

And the award-winner happened at church Sunday night: "Have you had the baby yet?"
"Yeah--we just left a newborn at home by herself for four hours!"
(Although I must admit, I am choosing to be flattered that she apparently didn't think I looked like I still was nine months pregnant.)

The weekly cervix report

I'm still having contractions. On the list of "discomforts of pregnancy," I'd say they're more fun than five months of morning sickness but less enjoyable than Shirley's regular attempts to head-butt one of my kidneys while simultaneously kicking the other. (Which tells you how I feel about puking.)

Fortunately, my ADHD tendency to "space out" has come back in spades this week. I say fortunately because that (and Unisom) have made it much easier to cope with the pain from the contractions. Unfortunately, my body has apparently trained my mind to do these little space outs without my conscious control. While it's been nice to be less aware of the pain (I'm telling you, not hurting does wonders for my mood!) it also means that I'm much less aware of everything else. At the end of the day, there are quite literally gaps in my memory of hours at a time because my brain apparently just wasn't paying attention. Guess it's good practice for when Alzheimer's kicks in!

Aunt Tig's birthday was Tuesday. Since she is one of the women named Shirley we're naming the baby after, we tried to use this to our advantage. "Come on honey, February 19th is a great day to be born a Shirley!" was spoken to my belly more than once on Tuesday, but she didn't buy it.

Because it was Wednesday, we saw the obstetrician again yesterday. And my cervix is slowly dilating--it's now a little over 1cm, which is more than it was last week. So these contractions are serving their purpose (make my cervix dilate so Shirley can come) but it's taking a loooooong time.

I'm not completely sure why, but the doc wants another ultrasound on Tuesday. And it's probably not going to happen, but I really hope I can call to cancel the appointment before then and say "The baby arrived, so I won't be coming in!"

In praise of Unisom

Well, I'm still having regular contractions every 5-10 minutes. And they still hurt. Between the pain, the near-constant nausea (even with Zofran on board, I've been living off clear liquids, toast and bagels) and the lack of sleep from the contractions, I've really been feeling like I'm reaching the end of my physical and emotional tether. My mood is gradually (who am I kidding?) rapidly getting bitchier, but Shirley has not deigned to grace us with her presence yet.

At the weekly obstetrician visit yesterday, the doc told me that while she was sorry I was experiencing so much pain and nausea, it looked as though it would be a while before the next stage of labor begins. She did offer to send me back to triage for morphine, but I declined. If all the hospital will do at this point is pump me full of drugs for the pain, help Brian shovel me into the car, and send me home to sleep it off, I think I'll pass. I can drug myself into insensibility at home, thank you very much!

While I don't have any narcotics, I do have a nice stash of over the counter sleep aids. So when we got home, I took a Unisom (it's safe during pregnancy!) and crashed for several hours. Although I woke up with an impressive hangover, six hours of uninterupted sleep definitely improved both my overall mood and ability to "tune out" the pain from the contractions.

I'm still not sure when Shirley will choose to show up, but I'd better stock up on sleep while I still can!