Shut up.
October 31, 2011
October 28, 2011
Playing doctor
I had a pretty big day yesterday. Mom and Dad took me on a field trip to the Polyclinic at the Nordstrom Tower to see my pediatrician, Dr. Lindsay, for my first checkup.
It was a fun time all around, especially since I got to ride in a car again for the first time since leaving the hospital. Words can't describe how incredible a car ride can be to a five-day-old whose only life experiences so far have involved sitting in her own filth and being shuttled back and forth between a living room, changing table and bedroom. Besides, the car seat is actually pretty darn comfy, and it was a gorgeous day outside.
Thanks to the heroic work of my Grandma Jane (I call her YaYa), we got to the doctor's office about 15 minutes early for a 12:30 appointment (I'm already learning that Roses have a thing for punctuality), but we got stuck sitting in the waiting room for 45 minutes because all the people who had appointments ahead of us were running late. This meant that we had a lot of time to kill while we were banished to the "newborns" section of the waiting room, which consisted of just a few chairs in a dark, miserable corner of the room. Meanwhile, older kids got to play with toys in the side of the room with the giant windows. Didn't we defeat segregation decades ago?
However, this show of disrespect did give Mom and Dad a chance to chat with a few other new parents and commiserate over how difficult their lives have become since having kids. Uh, guys? I'm sitting right here. Their little parenting pow-wows also revealed just how popular the name "Ella" is these days. Of the five parents Mom and Dad talked to, three were toting girls named Ella.
No matter; let's get to the checkup. Now, I don't want to brag, but Dr. Lindsay said I was perfect. I'm inclined to think she's right. After all, you don't go to medical school for all those years without developing an eye for talent. Plus, in my experiences with her, she's never been one for hyperbole.
Turns out that, after five days, I'm already nearly back up to my birth weight, and I'm a quarter-inch taller than I was when I was born. I'm no math wiz, but I believe that if I keep that pace up, I'll be 18 feet tall when I start kindergarten. My eyesight is also developing nicely and I have perfect hearing. That said, I did have a touch of jaundice when we left the hospital earlier this week, but Dr. Lindsay said it's now completely gone.
Mom and Dad were both quite happy with all the good news. Needless to say, I was too. I did, however, take a nice little poopy before we left the exam room. Got to keep Mom and Dad on their toes, and also let the Polyclinic folks know that I didn't appreciate being kept waiting.
October 23, 2011
Hello, world!
Hi, everybody!
It took a while, but I made it. After nearly 20 hours of labor (and three hours of pushing), I was born at 9:47 p.m. on Oct. 22, 2011, at Swedish Medical Center in Seattle. For those of who you who focus on superficial things like a girl's weight, etc., I weighed 7 pounds, 7.6 ounces, and I was 20.25 inches long -- about as big as a good-sized bass.
Things are going pretty well, although nobody told me it would be this cold on the outside. But I'm getting used to it.
My parents have been super nice so far. I think I'll keep 'em.
That's it for now. I think I'm going to get some rest. They say you should sleep when your parents sleep, and they're zonked out at the moment.
Until next time...
It took a while, but I made it. After nearly 20 hours of labor (and three hours of pushing), I was born at 9:47 p.m. on Oct. 22, 2011, at Swedish Medical Center in Seattle. For those of who you who focus on superficial things like a girl's weight, etc., I weighed 7 pounds, 7.6 ounces, and I was 20.25 inches long -- about as big as a good-sized bass.
Things are going pretty well, although nobody told me it would be this cold on the outside. But I'm getting used to it.
That's it for now. I think I'm going to get some rest. They say you should sleep when your parents sleep, and they're zonked out at the moment.
Until next time...
October 19, 2011
Get me outta here!
As of tomorrow, I will have been inside my mom’s belly, in one form or another, for exactly 40 weeks. Four-zero. If you're scoring at home, that’s 280 days in a space no bigger than a basketball, with no light, and I’ve been upside down for a good portion of it. I’d like to see David Blaine pull off something like that.
Not that it’s been completely unbearable. Mom takes good care of me by eating well, taking her vitamins and getting plenty of rest. Dad pitches in by pretty much doing whatever Mom asks him to do. They also talk to me regularly, so I've never felt lonely. All in all, it’s been a pretty decent nine months.
But as warm and cozy as it is in here, things are starting to get a bit cramped – not to mention a little boring. It’s not like I have any books to read to pass the time, and I’m assuming crocheting would not be welcomed kindly by Mom in these increasingly tight quarters we share. Thank goodness for Wi-Fi, or I’d have gone completely stir-crazy months ago.
As such, I think it goes without saying that I’m ready to get the heck out of here. Or, in the words of the immortal Bon Scott, I’m gonna make a jailbreak. Come to find out, my parents can help out in this regard, because there are plenty of things Mom can do to kick-start labor. Dad did a half-assed (like everything he does) survey of some friends and family members, and he found out some of the tried-and-true methods. This includes:
n Walking. This must really work, because half of the people who offered suggestions came up with this.
n Eating spicy foods.
n Driving over bumpy roads. Not cool, people.
n Having sex. Ugh, isn’t that how I got into this situation in the first place?
n Bowling.
n Horseback riding.
n Riding a motorcycle.
n Watching something funny, like a stand-up comedian, and then laughing. A lot.
n Drinking castor oil. Why, you ask? I’ll let the good people of “What to Expect” explain: “If you take a shot of it, it can stimulate your bowels (by causing spasms in the intestines) and, in turn, irritate your uterus and cause it to start contracting. The downside: If you’re not already showing signs of labor, taking castor oil can just give you a bad case of diarrhea.” My Uncle Brian came up with this one. I’m not sure about that guy.
As unpleasant as some of those seem, I’m willing to deal with anything if it ends up working. So, Mom and Dad – if you’re reading this, get to work! Except the castor oil thing.
Besides, it's in my parents' best interest for me to arrive sooner rather than later. Starting the night of Oct. 21, a major highway through Seattle will be closed for nine days, which means traffic between Mom and Dad’s house in West Seattle and our hospital downtown is going to be a nightmare. You know those scenes in disaster movies where everybody’s trying to get out of town before it gets hit by an asteroid/nuclear meltdown/mutant lizard monster/GOP convention? That’s pretty much what Seattle’s streets are going to look like. Dad is neurotic enough about traffic as it is. If Mom goes into labor after Oct. 21 and we have to deal with that, we might just lose him altogether.
Besides, it's in my parents' best interest for me to arrive sooner rather than later. Starting the night of Oct. 21, a major highway through Seattle will be closed for nine days, which means traffic between Mom and Dad’s house in West Seattle and our hospital downtown is going to be a nightmare. You know those scenes in disaster movies where everybody’s trying to get out of town before it gets hit by an asteroid/nuclear meltdown/mutant lizard monster/GOP convention? That’s pretty much what Seattle’s streets are going to look like. Dad is neurotic enough about traffic as it is. If Mom goes into labor after Oct. 21 and we have to deal with that, we might just lose him altogether.
Here's hoping my escape comes in the next two days!
October 12, 2011
Welcome to the Terrordome
I’ve got to say, this is pretty cool. I found out a few days ago that my parents had put the finishing touches on my new bedroom. And not just any new room – my own new room. I haven’t even been born yet, and I get my own room! My parents are both 31, and they have to share their room!
Looks pretty green, right? Mom and Dad decided on these colors before they knew whether I was a boy or a girl, because they didn’t want to go with the old “blue for boy, pink for girl” plan. It’s probably for the best. Even if I end up as a girly girl, I can’t say I would’ve been thrilled about feeling like I was drowning in a sea of pink cotton candy.
And the green fits, because the room itself is a shrine to recycling, repurposing and hand-me-downs. My parents, in their infinite wisdom (or cheapness, I can’t figure out which) decided there wasn’t a lot to be gained by buying every piece of furniture brand-new. In fact, the only big-ticket items in here that are really “new” are the rug and the wall decal.
The crib and changing table were given to us by my Auntie Heather and Uncle Brian, who used them previously for their two daughters (my cousins Madeline and Addison). The glider chair was a yard sale find. And the table next to the chair was just an old bar stool that my Uncle Ben was nice enough to saw down, and then Dad gave it a few coats of paint. So industrious!
This cabinet used to hold my parents’ DVD collection. Now it’s home to adorable outfits that I’ll outgrow in a matter of months. Mom just touched it up with some paper and decorative leaves.
The bookcase? Well, that’s always been a bookcase. No need to mess with the classics. Right now, Dad is working hard to stock it with a bunch of books from his childhood, which he'll probably enjoy a lot more than I will.
The music boxes on the shelf, plus the Beatrix Potter pictures on the walls, were in my Auntie Sarah’s room when she was a baby way back when. Auntie Sarah and Uncle PJ have given me a ton of stuff that was used by my cousins Jackson and Brooklyn: a bassinet, hamper, swing chair, clothes, toys (TOYS!) and more.
So, hooray for being thrifty! Speaking of which: It’s not shown here, but my parents found me a car seat in an alley in downtown Seattle. A little duct tape and bleach here and there, and now it’s good as new! I’m kidding, of course. Mom and Dad bought my stroller, car seat, baby monitor and a few other important items at Babies ‘R’ Us and Target. Turns out, you can put a price on safety, and it ain't cheap.
October 6, 2011
Allow me to introduce myself
Hi there. My name’s Elizabeth Catherine Rose, but if you like, you can just call me Eliza. In fact, I’d prefer it. Otherwise, that’s a ton of letters for me to remember, considering I’m still, you know, just a fetus.
Above you is one of the few photos of me that currently exists. It was taken about four months ago. Cute, huh? Yeah, I don’t see it either. Back then, I still looked more like a jellyfish than a baby. But until I see the light of day, that’s the best photo you’re going to get. I’d like to think I’ll look better once I can get a little fresh air.
These are my parents, Mike and Lauren. I’m in there somewhere. They seem like nice enough folks, at least from what muffled things I hear from time to time. That’s why I feel a teensy bit guilty about everything I’m going to put them through over the next couple of years – or the next 18 years, come to think of it. Look at those poor fools. They have no idea what I have in store for them.
In case you’re wondering where my name comes from – or, more importantly, why two (allegedly) loving parents would saddle a kid with such a long name – Elizabeth and Catherine are the middle names of my mom’s two sisters. They also happen to be the names of two famous English queens. No pressure, right?
Anyway, here we are.
I’m due to make my much-anticipated debut exactly two weeks from today. I haven’t yet decided if I’m going to keep to that schedule or not, but until I do, I’ll be posting a few more of my thoughts on this page. And once I’m out, I’ll keep you regularly updated on what’s going on in my world (spoiler alert: lots of pooping and crying).
And if you can’t suspend your disbelief long enough to pretend that a baby can blog from inside her mother’s womb? You could probably stand to lighten up a little. If not, I might just spit up on you when I meet you. Then again, I'll probably be doing that to everybody.
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