6 weeks, According to Livi

I am six weeks old today! They say us babies have a milestone at week 6. We must...because I think I gave Mom a heart attack when I decided to sleep through my midnight feeding. She got quite the 6th week birthday gift from me when she woke up at 3 am and I was still sleeping. I heard her russle around, wondering if the time on the clock is right, and listening for my breathing...which I purposly made quiet just to freak her out. Then I decided to make my usual sounds and let her off the hook. I saw her come over to my bassinett to check on me and noticed how relieved yet perplexed she looked. "What do I do now?" was written all over her face. She went to the kitchen and came back with her breast pump. I don't get those things...I just want to scream...".hey! I'll drink that! what are you doing!" Then I realized that she's saving the left one for me....which I helped myself to at 3:30am, my usual early morning snack. I will have to decide if I keep this longer sleeping thing up....I'll see if mom will take me for that super duper walk again that we had last night...the one where she lowers the bassinett cover so I can see the tops of the trees.

On other news....I think Mom lost it the other day. Dad was watching me....so I slept the whole time...while she left for some reason. When she came back, I didn't even recognize her! What got into her? All her hair was gone...now I have more hair that she does. And what in the world am I going to pull on now? Doesn't she realize she took all the fun out of it? Oh well...she put my favorite Macy's dress on me to make up for it, so I guess it's OK.

I make dad buy Mom her favorite flowers on Mother's Day...tulips. And the card we picked out together made me cry. Boy...dad is sure a softy. I'm not a fan of dark chocolate, but Mom is, and got some from a fancy chocolate place. I have to put up with in my milk, but again....the outfit I wore on Mother's Day made up for it. I stuck my tounge out to show displeasure with the chocolate.



They got that outfit in Vegas when they took me there for New Years. I was only tiny still in Mom's belly. But I did make her go to Macy's for it. I had special powers of pursation even then. Our Mother's Day plans didn't go according to plan. We were all going to go the the fancy hotel in town for their bazillion dollar brunch to celebrate our first Mother's Day. Well, after not sleeping how much I wanted all morning, and all the fuss putting my outfit on, I displayed a little too much unhappiness. All of a sudden, mom is on the phone...someting about cancelling a reservation....my outfit is off and other plans are made. Supposedly, we are going to Mom's favorite Vietnamese restaurant instead and speding the afternoon in the park. I got to wear a sportier outfit this time....my Saskatchewan RoughRider gear. You see, EVERYONE is a fan in this city. On game day, the whole town dresses up. It gets on Mom's nerves....she's not a fan obviously. I am though....here is a picture on the way to the restaurant....finally getting the sleep I wanted.



I slept through their meal in the Vietnamese restaurant....good thing. Mom deserved a break. We had a great time in the park...I even got to eat overlooking the water and the geese. Mom and me slept for three hours when we got home though. That heat and a two hour walk were too much for both of us. 

Mom is working on my Babtism these days....the invitation is ready to go and just has to be printed and mailed off to everyone. My Godmother, Monika, has been working hard to find just the right dress for my special day. She lives far away, so I saw Mom texting and online alot helping her friend make a decision. I sure appreciate all the trouble Monika is going to....I think she went to the same store 5 times. I get a nice sweater and shoes to match too! You'll have to wait to see the pictures of that, but in the meantime, here is a picture of me on the invitation. My doctor gave me this dress!



My favorite toys are a Lamaze toy my Godmother gave me before I was born...the black and white patters on the back entertain me long enough for mom to eat breakfast,

and I LOVE licking the teddy bear on my change table. Sometimes I toss my head from side to side to get the softness all over my face, like this:

I'm still having tummy troubles. They interupt my meals, wake me up from my naps and sleeps, and can keep mom up when I grunt in my sleep. But when she rocks me and kisses my forhead I forget all about it. And it might be getting better. I told mom to stop drinking sparkling water....sheeesh.....she lived on that stuff....and to eat light. I think I'm feeling a bit better...but still have a ways to go to be relaxed all the time. We'll get there.

I have to go ask mom to take me for a tree top walk now so I can try to sleep to 3:30am again. I like this new game. Oh and IVFlygirl...mom says to say "thanks" and that you'll know what for. 

Livi is four weeks old!

Happy four weeks Livi! And now.....how's it going, as many of you have asked. I know, it's time for an update.

LIVI: is the light in my life. She is a good baby with a neutral disposition.....and spends much of her time pondering and taking things in. She makes direct eye contact now, which brings both of us to our knees. We are swept away by how beautiful she is. So here's the hard part. It's very difficult seeing her peaceful pretty face contort in pain and cry....she has some bowel issues. It's not classic colik. More like a sensitivity or slow bowel. She does have good and bad days, but she spends most of her time pushing, grunting, straining.....and at times, to tears. Especially at night. After her 4:30 am feeding, the fun is over (especially after feeding at 11:00pm and again at 1:30am). We both spend hours shifting in and out of sleep, with me there for her as she wakes, uncomfortable, writhing, sometimes crying. By 8:30 am, the worst of it has passed, but now it's time for her breakfast and daddy is usually up, making mommy breakfast as she nurses. I don't "sleep when the baby sleeps", but we do take a nursing nap together somedays if the night was especially tough. During the day, she still struggles, but rarely to the point of crying. We are doing all we can to sooth her discomfort (suppositories, Gripe water and BioGaia have done very little). She loves being danced with and falls asleep. She does know the difference between random, hopeful, mindless rocking and true, heartfelt getting down, and only approves of the latter. At 4:30 am though, the singing has to kick in too, or it's just not believable. Ahhhhh....the first signs of the heart of a dancer......yey! She also loves her baths, and it's the one time she forgets her aches and just chills. Here she is, with her shinny new membership to the "DIIORIO SPA":

BREASTFEEDING: I have to say.....or rather celebrate....how well this is going. Knock on wood. I heard NOTHING but horror stories while I was pregnant. I don't think I talked to ONE person who was successfull at it or didn't have cracked bleeding nipples. I hoped against hope I would have milk and my nipples could handle it. Well, it's been a dream. She had latched on seamlessly right out of the whom, and it's been easy sailing ever since. Actually, it can be amuzing with her at times. I heard that every baby has a  "breastfeeding personality"....hers is hilarious. The only challenge has been trying to figure out my diet to minimize this bowel issue of hers. I've cut out diary, chocolate, caffeine, gassy and spicy foods....not sure if it's helping. But will continue to analize what I eat and how she responds....it can be heartbreaking sometimes how much she struggles....I'm prepared to eat Kleenex. I have her on a strict 2 and 1/2 hour schedule, with nap times in each cycle, wich can be difficult if she's in pain...as most of the nap time is taken up with her kicking and grunting herself awake. She refuses a soother....which is good, but I wish she would take one, to offer added emotional and physical comfort when she's having a hard time.

ME: how am I doing? I marvel every day how a person can function on 4-5 hours of broken sleep at night. Maybe because she and Stef are my only focus and I have no other responsibilites. (Except planning her Baptism, which is coming up on July 8th) I take time every day to make myself look as if I'm going to work in the morning....I used to think that women who stayed at home and did this had an image complex....but I get it now. Doing my hair and makeup is the only "me" time I get, and when unexpected guests drop in or I decide to run an errand with her, I can be proud of how put together I look with a four week old in tow. Recovery is pretty much done now, with just needing to spend time stretching and putting my body back together. My 8 week follow up is not untill the end of May, at which time I will be cleared to resume normal activity. That will ofcourse also mean no more reasons not to be back to my usual 127 lbs. Especially if I'm breastfeeding. Not watching calories has been fun for almost a year now, but the party is almost over. I'm OK with that....I will enjoy long walks with her all summer, and that will help. Can't drink yet either, so that will help even more. I plan on sneaking a beer here and there during BBQ season though.....pumped and froze my first 4 ounz of milk yesterday for just such an occasion! Also, I have become mobile with Livi much sooner than I expected. The cool rainy weather, her being so little, being intimidated by the car seat logistics and not being cleared to carry one yet, had me house bound for three weeks, with getting out for a half hour here and there when she slept and Stef watched her. That quickly became not enough for me, especially when I've never been bound by anything....not even at work. My job is out and about in public and driving around. So in the midst of a cabin fever meltdown on saturday, my friend Marlene calls saying that she had a feeling I'd be ready to get out and invited us for dinner. How is that for timing and a great friend? So our first outing was spent having a seafood gourmet meal with my first glass of shiraz in many months, and Marlene's miniature daschund not humping my leg for a change......he's never seen a tiny human and that was MUCH more interesting.

STEF: how is dad doing? he loves his little girl and is a proud papa.....baby seems to prefer mom when she is in disress, but dad likes to kiss her and play with her when he's at home. He's not back at work until the last week in May, so he's taken this time to help around the kitchen and house alot, as well as get some much needed major projects finished around the outside of the house. He is curretnly still on the hunt for my "push" present....which will be an heirloom ring to pass onto Livi when she's older. We have some ideas and I'm really excited, as it will commemorate her in a special way....will show it off when it comes!

As for visitors, I think her biggest fan is my dad. He sees her more often than anyone who lives here. He lives 8 hours away, but his trucking job takes him through town once or twice a week. Instead of parking on the side of the highway and sleeping like he should after driving all night, he pulls his semi up to my house and sneaks in an hour of holding her and looking at her. Even has a pink photo album filled with pictures from the hospital and his visits, that he shows off to everyone. Very sweet.

What do I think of motherhood? Motherhood is something I was miraculously blessed with, prepared for and jumped into, literaly, in a heartbeat. I never really analized it (really? me? not analize?) because it is all consuming instatntly. But not a minute goes by without me knowing what a gift she is and how unbelievably lucky we are. Here she is, my shinning star come to life....her sapphire blue eyes piercing my heart.

Olivia's Birthstory and first pictures

 “There’s too much tension in your shoulders...we need you to relax, slouch your shoulders and curl your back forwards”. I was sitting on the operating table, a nurse holding my shoulders down and slouching my back as the anaesthesiologist, a very expressionless, robotic man inserted freezing and then a spinal block into my spine. I didn’t know if the spinal was in yet and was getting anxious when the nurse said “you should feel a warm sensation down your buttocks when the spinal block starts to work”. They were warm before she finished the sentence. The c-section was underway.

Having arrived to the hospital at 6:00 am, I was still stroking my belly, trying to reconcile that she will be out in a matter of hours. Being laid on a bed in what was going to be our room for the next 2 and ½ days, I was prepped for surgery as Stef looked on anxiously. The IV hit a valve in my hand and bled out which made Stef almost sick and had me practicing my Hypnobirthing relaxation techniques to cope. The nurse asked if I took that course – I was impressed.  I remember hoping that was going to the only mistake made today. As I was shaven and talked to by a kind nurse in the wee hours of our prairie morning....I could not take my mind off my belly and who will come out.  An old doctor friend of mine who had offered to assist in the surgery had come in to say hello and to calm both of us. I wasn’t scared or nervous. I knew I had to do this and something was pushing me forward. Her name is Olivia.

At 7:45 am, I heard the door open with “they are ready for you”. I knew I was in good hands. The surgeon was my OB and very well renowned in the city (I work with doctors and they all said the same thing – he’s the best). I knew I had to be strong for my daughter about to meet the world, and strangely enough, for Stef.  His anxiety and worry for both of us was getting the best of him, made worse by knowing I am about to be cut open only inches away from him. Sitting on the operating table, wearing nothing but a gown, I was laid down as the spinal block flooded my nervous system. “Can someone please catch my leg?” I heard myself say as my bent knee was falling off the table. The sensation of people touching my legs was like electric probes underneath 10 blankets. “Iveta has some birth preferences” echoed through the OR as I stared up into the hundred small round lights above the table. There was mention of me wanting a mirror held up so I can see my baby’s head when it surfaced my abdomen, along with a few others, as the surgeon listened on. A count of some kind started and a roll call. “We have everyone” was quickly corrected by my voice projecting “We don’t have my husband...where is my husband”. I realized how ready I was to see him, have him in the room, by my side. They had left him sitting outside the OR fiddling with his iPhone, wondering when someone is going to come to dress him. It happened just in the nick of time.

He pulled up a stool by my head and I could hear how nervous he was. It made me stronger all the more and I was truly taking in everything around me. The robot of an anaesthesiologist behind me, the nurses buzzing around, the surgeon and his medical student assistant across from him, the paediatrician standing by, the machines, lights, sounds. Then I heard what I had been waiting for, and I almost missed it. My OB was known for something special right before he cut.....the entire OR stops while he says a prayer. “Look! he’s saying a prayer” I whispered to Stef and we both listened as this legend blessed the surgery and my baby. Why is he a legend? Ironically enough, my dear IVF followers, he had trained under the very doctor who invented IVF, in the late 70’s in London.

The show got on the road. A screen went up in front of my face and I made a split decision. One that I will always celebrate as a mother.  “Dr. A, I don’t want a screen”. The surgeon left it up to the anaesthesiologist, and then he left it up to the surgeon. “Whatever she wants”. The screen came down and was whisked away. Watching the surgeons work on me, I smell smoke and then a nurse surfaces near my ear. “They have to cut through 7 layers of tissue....and the smoke is from cauterizing bleeding vessels....”, doing her best to normalize what was happening by providing some navigation. Stef leaned in to soak in her words, happy to have someone ground us in the moment. I watched as the surgeons carried through the surgery, witnessing things that would be disturbing if my mind was not on the fact that my baby was about to come into the world. “Iveta look” I lifted my head to see a nurse holding up a hand mirror at the end of the table. It was not projecting anywhere near my belly, and I have no idea how I was able to give her directions as to how to lower and tilt it so I could see the site that will stay with me always. What took up the space of my incision was a beautifully round head of thick, wavy raven black hair. That’s when I completely fell apart. “She’s got your hair....she’s got your hair” to Stef, tears flooding my face uncontrollably.  I came into this experience completely blind to what would hit me. No matter what everyone tells you all your life about the first time you see your child.....you don’t get it. I got it now.  Stef turned around just in time to witness the moment that an entirely new dimension of our hearts and life busted open. She was lifted above my body...just under the OR lights above my table....this wonder that is my child....this moment burned into my mind. “She looks like you....she looks like you”....I wept, delirious with amazement and joy. Stef stood up to take a picture of my OB and my doctor friend assistant with the baby. She does not look happy, but is being a sport about it all. She didn’t cry very much...more like a protest...while she was getting weighed. In a blanket, quiet and content once more, she was presented to Stef to take over to me. Our baby. I drank in every movement of her face, every feature, every expression while her sapphire blue eyes opened and closed, and her perfect little lips fell like roses on her face. While the surgeon sewed me up, needle and thread tugging high in the air as if crafting a new suit, something else was being stitched together. The fibres of our family had come to life.

"Do you want to hold her"....a nurse asked the obvious in the recovery area. The moment of truth. Holding my baby for the first time. And determining our breastfeeding fate. She was this beautiful creature with surprising features. How much she looked like Stef took my breath way. Then it was taken away in another way....her latch was unmistakable, playful, and communicative. It said  "I’m in if you are....so let’s do this”. I sat back and watched a beautiful instinct unfold, so grateful at how seamless it was.

We named her Olivia. It was my lifelong favourite name, it celebrates her olive skin and Italian roots, and I like the nick name “Liv” which means “protected” in Scandinavian. Mila is a combination of my parents’ first names, and is a Czech name (my heritage) meaning’ dear girl’.

The three days and two nights that followed in the hospital are not to be forgotten. There are permanent images that will swim in my mind. The pain of recovery made worse by the images of the operation itself and the helplessness and immobility in taking care of her. Her sleeping on me for hours after I begged them not to take her back to the nursery the first night. The nurse turning on her heel against hospital policy and letting her stay sleeping on my chest. Livi nursing in her sweet, whimsical way that only I know, in those late, desperate dim light hours. Stef holding her while I slept. My dad making an entrance with 100 roses for me and orchids for her.

 

We left the hospital after two night and not a moment too soon. Here is our home coming queen.

"This is your room..." Stef whispered to Livi as we embarked on a life as a family. A week has passed since we came home. I treasure our days of watching her sapphire eyes take more and more in everyday, working away in the nursery when she sleeps, waking from a mutual nursing nap to see her little face cheek to cheek with my breast, watching her asleep in Stef's arms, seeing how my voice and touch changes her distress instantly. I treasure our nights of watching Stef expertly swaddle and sooth her fussiness, rocking her back to sleep at 2am, cradling our little gift as the sun comes up. Every moment is a joy, and at least once a day, all the way to tears.


My recovery has been world record, at driving, walking and sitting virtually pain free after a week. The fear of missing my pregnancy and the "loss" of having her through natural delivery is now a distant and peculiar memory. I am grateful to have followed my primal instinct of keeping her safe and away from the risks of labour or being overdue, even though the price for me emotionally and physically was high. I would do it again for her, a thousand times over.

sneak preview

Olivia's birthstory still coming up. sitting and typing has a very short shelf life these days. recovering still. but here are a few pictures

those were taken right after surgery

Introducing...

Olivia Mila Diiorio, born April 5th, 8:48 am by elective c-section, 7 lbs 10 onz, 20 inches. Has an insane mane of jet black hair with blue eyes, and looks like dad. Pictures and birth story to follow. Cannot upload pics from iPad. I did alter the sterile experience in the OR by asking the surgeon not to put up a screen. I was able to see her head come out in a mirror they put up for me, and whitnessed her being pulled up and out into the world. What an increadible sight. She latched on like a pro during recovery, and has been cuddling with me or dad ever since. It is time to sleep now...i will miss her in my sleep. What an awesome day. Happy birthday Livi!

Doing like the Robins

Spring is an amazing time of year...for those of us who live in a climate with 4 seasons. Those of you who don't....well.....we're jealous...but then again...we have spring and you don't. I watch the Robins gather up twigs and Christmas ribbons forgotten under the melted snow to make nests. I'm not using Christmas ribbons, but I am flying high on something. I CANNOT believe the transformation my body and mind have made in the past 10 days. I have heard of the nesting instict, but didn't give it much thought. Then, I felt like lifting weights the other day. I thought..."that's weird.....why do I want to lift heavy objects all of a sudden". Then I realized that my feet don't hurt anymore (I would come home in tears from grocery shopping they used to hurt so much). So I put it all to the test, and here I am, at midnight, full of energy to tell you all about it. The part that surprised me the most, was not writing thank you cards till 2 am, not doing laundry and ironing the bed sheets all day, not going to 5 different stores in one day, but the 4 km walk I've taken with Stef around "the lake" two days in a row now.....and he had to keep up with me. I do not remember having that kind of stamina since before I got pregnant. And I'm 38 weeks with a cold! So it's been an amazing ride this nesting instinct. I like it.

We will have a baby in 5 days. So this post may be my last until I am introducing her. So, here are a few pictures.

My work shower on March 18th, put on by my dear friend at work, Cathy. We had a butterfly theme.

 

Here is how the baby has grown in the third trimester:

Don't you just LOVE that Buddha shirt? My sister in law gave it to me on the day I announced I was pregnant. Thank you! one of the best prego gifts ever. I got stopped by total strangers to tell me how cute it was. Go to tummyts.com and check out their whole line for pregnant women. Very cool.

One thing I have to admit that I am proud of myself for, is my weight gain. As someone who was constantly hungy and was advised not to work out in the first trimester, never had morning sickness and a huge appetite, has a profession that exposes me to endless restaurant food every day, and my feet forbid me from walking half the pregnancy, I have managed to stay under the 35lb weight gain recommendation. Knock on wood...as long as I don't gain 2.5 lbs in the next 5 days. I weighed myself every morning, and that was really the only way to do it. I wanted this to be a healthy pregnancy in every way, and was proud to be complimented for looking great and healthy. I also think it's cute when people say that my weight gain is "all baby". I guess they didn't take a close look at my butt :)

On a more serious note, if I don't go into labor before Thurday morning, our daughter will be born on the one year anniversary of my egg retrieval at CCRM. It was on April 5th, 2011 that she was concieved, and on April 5, 2012 she might be born. We find that kind of neat. Also, Canada is phasing out the penny. So we are hoping to find a 2012 penny to keep for the year she was born. To all my Canadian followers...please keep your eye out. As for what's been happening with the birth preparations....I've been off work for a week now, but it does not feel like it. It has been non stop activity and last minute preparations. I keep hoping I will go into labour before Thursday. As long as she comes into this world safe and healthy, that's all I care about and that's why I'm getting a c-section. But a surgical procedure in the sterility of an OR is not the way I wish to birth this child. My ultimate preference would have been a water birth. Due to my age and the risks associated with it, a c-section in the 39th week was the best way of guaranteeing her safety. I have always dreamed of being pregnant and having a child. I have that now, and will meet her on Thursday. I will embark on motherhood in the way I always knew I would. With a strong, loving heart. I may never know the thrill and pain of a vaginal delivery and am denying my body what it was made for, and although I will be a mother, will continue to not relate to any other mother talking about "when she went into labor". Here's the BUT. The collosal truth is that I will, for the first time in my life, be able to relate to another mother on a much more important matter - having a child. I hear that once I see my child, there will be a well of emotion like no other and it is a moment I will never forget. I am chosing to focus my greatfulness to be that privilaged. She will be here by April 5th. The little girl I always wanted.

Three weeks, less a day

No, I'm not ready. I am not done. I don't "just want the kid out". Everyone assumes that, and I am so not here yet. I am not finished loving being pregnant....it's what I've wanted to experience for so long. It will be time for the next phase in three weeks, less a day. My C-section was moved up by a week. Not what I wanted, but it's the best thing to assure her safety in arriving in the world. My OB was hesitant with my request to wait till the due date for the procedure, so the next time I saw him, we talked about it again. The new date is April 5th.

The entire time I have my iPad on my belly (with a Belly Armour blanket of course) writing this post, she's trying to kick it off. I never got why...but it's a feeling I could have forever. She's having her nightly hiccups right now, which I love.....along with her foot that I can feel now, just by my ribs when she stretches........I get 20 more days. What I find the coolest...is she has not changed her position in weeks. Her bum and back on my right, feet and hands on my felt, head down.

As for "how I'm feeling" which everyone so caryingly asks, I would NEVER complain. Us IVFers do not have karma's permission to complain.....but here are some interesting observations:

Putting on socks has become a sport...and thankfully the season is changing...because I was running out of ways to do it.
When I drop things.....I just leave them there. Screw it.
The carpel tunnel in my right hand gets so bad at night that I lose feeling in it when I sleep. During the day, my ring finger tip is numb.
The swelling in my hands feels arthritic at night. I wake up to grab the sheets to find that I can't really.
My feet have finally become swollen ontop of destroyed. I can only wear my large flat winter boots or flip flops now. Thank goodness the season is such that I can wear both in one day!
I am greatful for my twice per week prenatal aquasize class...as any form of walking is no longer an option for exercise
Braxton hicks are kind of cool
Stairs suck. Then I do....for about 5 minutes.
I move with less grace but I'm getting the waddle down like a star. And proud of it.
My husband endearingly tells me I sound like a horse....hey I'm breathing for two!

I have one more week of work, with my work related shower this Sunday. My hostess is going all out and I can't wait to see all that she has in store and see the 25! guests that will come out. I will send a picture of that one.

Time for bed, as prenatal yoga starts at nine bells tomorrow. After, the project for the day is to pack for the hospital. That should be interesting. How do you pack for "might go into labor, might have a c-section and be there for longer but either way say hello to your new baby and new life....and how about those boobs! They've finally grown up and got a job!"
Don't forget your pillow.