Pictures

Rather than littering my Facebook wall with pics of my kiddies, I figured I'd do it here... Since, ya know, that's what this site is all about. ;-)

A few pics from this past week.

After 2 kids...

It's official.

We make babies with:
Beautiful faces
Full heads of hair
Outtie belly buttons
Long feet
And tongue ties (though Maya's is very mild)

Birth Story - Mama's recollection.

Oh, where to begin.

I worked right up to my due date. She was due Sunday March 10th, so I worked up to Friday March 8th.

I completely expected to have her over the weekend or as late as Tuesday. Evan came right on time, so my midwives (and I) had no reason to believe that I would go late this time around.

I got home Friday (the 8th) from work, and after dinner and tucking Evan into bed, we settled in for a relaxing night. Shortly into our evening though, I started getting relatively intense contractions. I decided to hop into the bath (as recommended by our midwives) to see if they'd go away. The intensity stopped, but the cramps didn't. To my recollection, that was how the first 14 hours of labour with Evan felt. So, I called my midwife who said she would be ready to jump out of bed at a moments notice, so try an get some sleep and call when things picked up.

Gregg got the pool blown up and everything set up in our living room for the birth.

I finally fell asleep around 1:30am and contractions seemed to be completely gone by mid morning.

... I fell for "false labour".

Over the course of the week, I continued to try things to encourage labour. Each attempt would trigger 12-18 hours of contractions and a bad night's sleep, only to completely disappear. I quickly became tired of playing that game, and worried that I would not be able to have the home birth I so wanted.

Thursday, I learned I was only 1cm dialated. My midwife tried to induce labour (and brought me up to 2-3cm dialated when I walked out of the office), which of course triggered Braxton Hicks/contractions again. I had another rough night of sleep that night, and a consistently uncomfortable day on Friday, but it seemed that nothing was turning into a pattern, so I grew tired and doubtful that anything was going to come of this.

That night, at around 9pm, I suddenly felt that my contractions were feeling a little more consistent, and decided to start timing them.

Determined not to "fall for false labour" again, I casually mentioned to Gregg that I had 3-4 contractions that were 6 mins apart lasting for 1 min. Finally... What I had been waiting for. I told him that I'd keep timing them for a while, just to make sure. At 11, the contractions seemed to pick up pace, and were averaging 3-5 minutes apart still lasting 1 minute. Because of the week I'd had, I was still doubtful.

Gregg pretty much convinced me to take a bath ("right now") and see if they would go away. The contractions didn't slow, nor did the pain change, so I told Gregg, and then called our midwife.

I crawled into bed, and waited for them to arrive. At midnight, they walked in the door and checked me. I was disappointingly only 3-4 cm dialated, though was finally convinced and thankful that tonight was going to be "the night".

Things quickly picked up pace as Gregg worked hard filling the tub and getting it warm enough for me to give birth in. This is where time seems to stop, and my memory blurs. Roughly an hour and a half after my midwives arrived, I felt I needed to be in water. Things were progressing completely different than my first birth, so I still had no idea how much longer my active labour was going to last, but the pain was making me crave to be in the pool.

My guess is I laboured in the pool for an hour (?) before I started feeling the urge to push. My water still had not broken, and was confused as heck, but my midwife kept reminding me to just listen to my body... So I did.

After a handful of "pushing" contractions, my water broke, and somewhere around 15 minutes after that, she was in my arms.

Maya Lee Weisbrod
Born Saturday March 16, 2013
3:15am
7lbs 14oz
21" long

6 hours of labour... (3 intense hours)... Feeling like 20.

Random thought:
Perhaps I forgot the pain of labour?
Perhaps I went into a 'survival mode' with Evan due to pushing so long?
Whatever the reason, I feel like I was much more aware of the pain this time around.

After all was said and done, I didn't need any stitches. I had a *very* minor tear in the same place I tore last time, but the midwives were sure stitches weren't necessary - something I was more than happy to agree with.

An interesting side note: when she was born, she was completely covered in vernix. The midwives were surprised and said that given her weight (nearly half a pound smaller than Evan) and the amount of vernix, they could almost think she was a week early... Wait... What?!?

Recovery and bonding with Maya came easy. I was not hanging off the peak of emotion, and the pain after birth was extremely mild. My midwife came back to check up on us 13 hours after birth, and when asked how I felt, I said I felt like I could walk a mile. She begged me not to. ;)

So here I am today, thankful for 9 amazing days with my little girl. I have to keep reminding myself that she's just a week old. I feel like I've had her forever.

I am a very blessed mama.

Pregnancy updates

So, I'm 34 weeks pregnant now. In just 3 weeks, I will be considered "full term" and in roughly 3 weeks from then, I'll probably have this little girl out of my belly (thank goodness! *wink*) and in my arms.

Have I mentioned I'm not really a fan of being pregnant? I'm certainly a fan of the outcome though! ;)

I was measuring a little small at my last midwife appointment. In (my) theory, this means one of 3 things:
     1. Weisgirl is gonna have a crazy growth spurt sometime soon.
     2. I'm gonna go super late from my expected due date.
     3. I'm gonna have a dainty baby girl.

I'm hoping for #3. ;)

This little girl of mine gets the hiccups ALL the time too! No exageration when I say 3-4 times a day. Poor thing.

She's been super active lately too. Like.... practically non stop during the day (which is a good sign that she'll be more awake during the day and more asleep at night when she's born). When I was pregnant with little E, I couldn't imagine what people meant when they said that the baby kicking "hurt". Now, I get it. It's a strange "hurt"... hard to explain, but there are certainly times where she kicks or punches, and I literally jump in my chair.

We are still nowhere near picking a name for Weisgirl. I know it'll come. We just haven't sat down and hashed out options yet.

And we're working on picking colours for the nursery. Gregg went through over 100 paint chips and cut the options in half, and I've now cut those options in half. I think our goal is to have the room painted in the next week or 2... Cutting it a bit close... but that's ok, right? It's not a big room, so it'll be painted in a matter of a day or 2 (if we can designate an entire weekend working on the nursery).

Gotta start getting prepared for this birth too. We are planning a home birth again, in our birth pool. I'm working on a "backup" plan though, incase this baby comes too quickly for us to have the pool ready - though, I'm hoping that plan B won't have to be used.

So, that's about all that's going on in our baby lives right now. 

Rock-a-bye Baby

Our bed time routine with Evan (like 1000's of other kids) is reading a book, singing a song, and then tucking in and a kiss good night.

Evan chooses the book and song.

Lately, he's been obsessed with Rock-a-bye Baby. It's hilarious though, because we'll have just finished reading a book with him sitting on my lap, and then he turns to me and says "rock-a-bye baby", cradles himself in my arms as if he's a 10lb infant, and smiles the entire time I sing.

And he insists we sing it again... and again... by the 3rd time, I tell him he has to sing with me. Which is A-dorable!

By the third time too, I'm standing over his bed, and when I sing "down will come baby, cradle and all" I lower him into his bed.

Then (every night) while tucking him in, he requests I sing Happy Birthday of all songs!

Precious Moments

Last night, Evan had a bad dream. I picked him up, and asked him if I could tuck him back into bed. "no mommy!" he said. He seemed genuinely afraid/bothered.

What do you do when your child is afraid? You get his mind off whatever is stuck in his brain.

We sat down in the rocking chair and read his current favourite book - The Night Before Christmas.
"Ho Ho Ho" says Evan when he points to the book.

After we got through the story, Evan says "Sing Song" in the most adorable, quiet, sheepish voice. He turns around on my lap to face me, and plays with my hair as I go through the titles of EVERY song I know.

"Smile?"
"No mommy."
"Hushabye Mountain?"
"No mommy."
Twinkle Twinkle?"
"No mommy."
"Jesus Loves Me?"
"No mommy."
"Rockabye Baby?"
"No mommy."

On and on we go. Every time he said "No mommy." he looked at me with his precious eyes and adorable smirk.

Finally, we settle on a song, and I sing him back to bed, tuck him in, kiss his forehead, and say good night.

It was 4am. His sweetness and gentleness made me wish our moment could have lasted forever.

Gettin' Organized

Last weekend, Evan spent the day with his Nana and Papa (where, by the way, he had the time of his life!) while 'Mom' and 'Dad' worked hard getting this house a little more prepared for his baby sister.

Our goal was to get rid of and organize as much "clutter" as possible (which isn't always that much, since I, Lins, am *always* in a purging mood). Gregg was then going to try and organize the garage as much as possible, so that bins being stored in our basement could move into the garage, so that the furniture in little Weisgirl's new nursery could move into the basement. A lot easier said than done.

Gregg did an amazing job in the garage. Some new shelves went up, and big storage bins from our basement went on the shelves. I found new homes for a number of things in our spare room (aka new nursery) and went through everything in the basement: put things aside that we'd likely never use again, packed away Evan's baby clothes into new bins (ya know... "just in case") and hid them under the stairs, and brought up as much baby gear as I could and put them in the nursery.

It was an extremely tiring day, but very rewarding.

Last night, we brought down the desk that was in the nursery, and rearranged the basement to accommodate the furniture being brought down. All that's left is a couple of shelves (filled with books).

I must say, I'm super excited about this progress, and can not wait to start setting up and decorating the nursery.

Though we still have much to do to prepare for this little one, March can not come soon enough!! 24 weeks down, 16 to go!

Dancing Baby

It's fun to compare this pregnancy to my last one. The way I carry, my weight gain, how I've felt (in speaking of which, MUCH better this past week and a bit!!!)...

There was never any routine with feeling Evan's moves. The only routine I could tell you was that he was typically more active in the morning, and I NEVER felt him in the middle of the night.

For the first few weeks after I felt Weisbaby girl moving around, it was ALWAYS at 2pm and 9pm. Always.

Now, I always feel her at 5am. Maybe it's because she's trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep again - just like her mama at that time.

I love this feeling though. Can't wait for daddy to feel her move!

It's a GIRL!

So, if you haven't heard by now, Gregg and I are having a little girl! Evan will have a little sister!

When people asked what I wanted, I always said "well, we'd love a baby girl just cause we don't have one yet, but Evan is SO much fun that I'd be thrilled to have another boy too."

Now that I know I am having a girl, I am over the moon excited! I've always wanted that baby girl.

Time to get planning.

Paint the new nursery
Pick names
Buy sweet girly clothes

My mom always told me "Be careful what you wish for! You may just get it."
I always said I was going to have 3 kids. A boy, then a girl, then another boy. Ahem.... Looks like I'm well on my way to having my promise come true. :P

Excited to meet this beautiful baby girl in just a few months! Half way there!

Crazy "Pregnancy" Dreams

I do believe I had the craziest dream EVER last night!

I dreamt I was 20 weeks pregnant, went to bed feeling ill, woke up, quickly gave birth to a healthy baby which I just assumed was a boy, fell back to sleep, woke up a few hours later to change the baby's diaper and to my surprise, she was a girl. Then I called my midwife to tell her the news and spent the rest of my dream trying to calm her down cause she was so upset I didn't call her for the birth...

Yup...

Reflection... Then and Now

I found this the other day... I wrote it in response to Evan's 1st birthday:

***************************
One year ago today, I was overwhelmed with emotion over the birth of our first child. I could barely bring my self to call people to tell them he was here because at every moment I was about to burst into tears.

What a ride it was.
Easy labour, long delivery, slow healing.

He was beautiful. Perfect in every way. Hie ears, his full head of dark hair, his tiny hands and feet, that button nose.

This year has flown by. I thought the first 4 months would never end. They felt like an eternity for me. Looking back, it was just a blink of the eye.

I remember sharing the bed with him the first 2 weeks of his life.
I remember his coos after every sneeze.
I remember his constant noises, like he was trying to tell stories.
I remember the day his birthmark on his bum appeared.
I remember being so tired at night, I was afraid to face the next day.
I remember the hiccups that would come EVERY time he laughed (still happens).
I remember his first smile that went on for 5 minutes.
I remember thinking he was getting his first tooth at 3 months old and it not coming till he was 11 months old.
I remember having to bounce him for up to 2 hours at a time just to get him to sleep.
I remember packing away his 6-12month clothes just weeks after he started wearing them.
I remember the difficulty I had trying to get him to take a bottle or sippy cup.
I remember the first time he smiled in the pool. All he needed was both Gregg and I together in the water with him.

Evan is so much fun now!
He is full of laughs, has killer dance moves, oozing love, gives the sweetest hugs and best slobbery kisses.

It has not been an easy year. It was a roller-coaster ride. The highs were high and the lows were low, but it's all evened out now, and life feels "normal".
***************************

Evan just celebrated his 2nd birthday. My reflections this year are a lot more simple, and vastly different.

It has been an INCREDIBLY fun year. Evan's personality is JUST like his dad's; funny, friendly, and confident. He is speaking in full sentences already - 4 to 6 words - and is super at telling me what he needs or wants. There are days, for sure, where he excels at "pushing my buttons" but golly, 9 days out of 10, he is the greatest little boy on the planet, and so much fun to spend time with. This year has been more 'fun', less 'challenging', and super exciting - watching Evan grow in leaps and bounds (in every way).

Happy birthday little dude! We love you more than words can describe.

Hot and Cold. New and Old

Evan is 2 years old this week! I can't decide whether the time has flown by, or whether it's felt like a lifetime.

In a way, it's felt like a lifetime because I can hardly remember life without him, but when I look at pictures of him when he was just weeks old, it feels like yesterday.

He's growing so quickly too. I am lucky if I can get a whole season out of a pair of shoes. I'm in the middle of packing away 2T pants that no longer fit, and he's quickly starting to say 5-6 word sentences. He's turning into a little boy right before our eyes.

Right now, Evan is making use of his new found knowledge on hot and cold, new and old. If he is holding a popsicle, or drinking milk straight out of the fridge, he's happy to announce that he's got something cold in his hands. If you serve him dinner, he will touch it and of it's not cold, it's automatically hot - all dinner long - even if it's only luke warm.

We recently transferred him to a toddler bed. He walked into the house one day to find a bed sitting in our hallway, waiting to make it's way upstairs to his room. He asked what it was, and we told him it was his new bed. For an hour, all he wanted to say was "new bed!". We asked him if he wanted to sleep in his new bed tonight, and he quickly replied yes, so we did the switch. For the rest of the night, he couldn't stop talking about his new bed. We walked into our spare room to find a book for him to read a few days later, and he saw his crib. He wanted to get into it. We explained that it was his old bed and he now only sleeps in his new bed. His crib is now referred to as "old bed".

He's now starting to wrap his head around that fact that we're soon going to have a new baby in the family. The spare room is going to be the new nursery. Every morning and evening, when Evan walks past that room, he touches the door and says "new baby room".

It's all quite adorable.

I'm Gonna Miss This.

This phase that Evan is going through right now, is the BEST!

First, he's a mama's boy right now, which I'm completely milking. He is also UBER cuddly.

Whenever he is in my arms, he wraps his arm around my neck, or rests his head on my shoulder, or gives me a big, wet, sloppy kiss.

His cuddles are to die for. There are moments where I just don't want to put him into his crib. I want to hold him forever.

The only "down side" to this phase (if you wanna say it's a down side) is there are very few times in the day where I can put him down and he be happy - let alone me leaving the room for a moment (god forbid!!).

Yesterday, I was cleaning the house and while vacuuming, I had him in my arms - now THAT'S a work out! Ha! - and he was SO tired he rested his head on my shoulder for half the time. I finally couldn't carry this dead weight anymore, and while vacuuming his room, I put him in his crib with the intention to finish up, and then put him down for his nap. As soon as I looked at him though, he had already drifted to sleep. I couldn't believe it.

I have made a change to our EARLY morning routine recently too. When he would wake up at 4, or 5, or 6am... I would get up, change him, feed him, and put him back down. Now I am just changing him, cuddling him, and putting him back down. I didn't think it would work, but it did! Those moments of me cuddling him are priceless. My heart melts and I haven't a care in the world what time it is.

He's the greatest.

When the independent phase kicks in, this is gonna be one sad mama.

...Just Like...

Just like his mama:
He's an active sleeper.
His eyes tear up whenever he lies down.
He gets super grumpy when he's hungry or tired. ;)
He sleeps on his belly.
He has a big smile.


Just like his daddy:
He was born with a full head of dark hair.
He has killer eye lashes.
He loves to tell stories.
He has extremely expressive eyes.
He loves books.
He is happiest in the car when we are driving fast.


Just like his parents
He LOVES to eat (and keeps eating even if he's full).
He can't resist TV whenever it is on.
He has big feet.

Raving Reviews

I'm sure every parent who goes to church can agree that church really messes with a baby's nap time. Such is the case for us.

We would keep Evan in the service with us because 11am was time to eat and/or sleep so we would try to do that for him there. These past few weeks though, he's just been too talkative for us to justify keeping him with us.

Though he'd be very tired, I would leave Evan in the nursery. Both times, those who were with him said he was amazingly easy going, happy, and good. Makes me happy to hear that. Sounds like our boy is going to be quite the people person.

Last week, as soon as he was given back to me, he fell asleep in my arms. ADORABLE!

Pictures

If I knew how to post pictures on this website, I would...
But I don't even know what program Gregg used to create this site...

Anyway, if you would like to see pictures of Evan taken over the last 6 months of his life, here ya go!

PICTURES

Knock on Wood

6 different bottles, 3 different sippy cups, and too many tears to count, I nearly lost all hope that Evan would accept milk/formula from anything that wasn't 'me'.

I wanted to give up. It was frustrating knowing that just 3 months ago he took to a bottle incredibly easily, and every time after that got harder and harder until he started skipping meals when he was babysat. At that point, I made it a mission to make him accept something. I needed a solution so I could work random days in the office or even go out for an evening with confidence.

In the end, he finally took to 1 sippy cup. Of course, it's a $20 thermos sippy cup, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do, right? It may even be too early to claim success, but after 3 days of 'on again off again' success with this particular cup, I've had 2 days of complete success... And not only success, but no mess! He stopped wearing half his drink. He still makes it very clear to me that he prefers breastfeeding but he only has 2 meals in a day with a sippy cup and it'll stay that way for some time still.

Oh, and he loves food! Peas, squash, strawberries, peaches, and rice cereal so far. I believe carrots will be next on the menu. I have yet to give him something he hates, though his first time having squash was rather amusing -- I may as well have put lemon in his mouth, he made such a sour face -- and I'm sure the day he spits something out at me will come soon enough.

Being a mom... Good times.

I Love It When...

He gives me the biggest smile when I come into his room in the morning or after a nap.

He puts both hands on my face and gives me a giant open mouth kiss on my cheek.

He looks at me with great anticipation to know what song I'm going to sing next.

He laughs and laughs when I find his ticklish spots or make goofy noises/faces.

He wraps his arms around me and rests his head on my shoulder.

He gets excited over the new foods we introduce to him.

He stops eating so he can look up at me and smile.

He is greatly entertained or intrigued by our dog.

He smiles at anyone who gives him attention.

He strokes or rests his hand on my cheek.

He looks at me with the most loving eyes.

He talks with me while I read to him.

FIVE MONTHS OLD...

Posted by the Weisdaddy. As the fourth month of Evan's life has given way to the fifth, I can honestly say I've learned and perhaps grown in similar fashion over our time together. I believe I've grown as a person. I view life differently, I love my wife more deeply, I'm inspired daily. Having him, and knowing the world he's destined to become more entwined with, I'm challenged to try and make it a better place for him. I'm challenged to provide him with a foundation so strong that he can go on to achieve great things. Granted, I'm clearly a romantic when it comes to my core, and thus find ways to romanticize the inner workings of my brain, still, I clearly feel different.

Each day I find myself labeling a new moment with my boy as one of my top ten favorites in his short life. A calm and loving embrace, with his head resting heavily against my face, my lips gently kissing his cheek. The silence. The embrace. Or seeing his incredible, gummy, ear-to-ear smile combined with the happiness in his beautiful blue eyes. The joy. The innocence. Memories comparable to the sweetest of smells. My soul bottles them, breathes them in on my darker days. Can you tell yet that I love being a Dad? :-)

Dazed and Confused

Evan has been waking up at 5 (give or take an hour) every morning for the past 2 weeks. I'm not complaining cause he goes to sleep around 7:30pm and and after feeding him at 5am, he goes right back down till 7 or 8.

One night, around the time that Evan first started waking up at 5am, Gregg and I stayed up late. We finally crawled into bed around 1am. At 5am, Evan woke up. In a sleepy stupor, I threw the blankets to my side and crawled out of bed. I thought to myself "Oh geez, I'm tired, and I have to feed Evan and Teddy" Yes... I said Teddy - my teddy bear. I hesitated for only a brief moment, but grabbed Teddy's arm and walked to the nursery trying to figure out who I was going to feed first. My logic was Evan was the one crying, so I'd feed him first.

I got up to the crib to greet Evan (Teddy still in hand), smiled at Evan, and then looked down at what I was holding.

What was I thinking??? I realized how ridiculous my thoughts were and put teddy down.

Oh what a night!

Ouch!

The other day Evan was enjoying his breastfed lunch, when all of a sudden... Ow Oww OWWW! He bit me!

I yelled "oww!" and he jumped a little, looked at me, and then laughed. Yes! He laughed!

It happened 3 times that day!

He's been a little nicer to me these past 2 days, but I am now deathly afraid of when his teeth come in. :P

Paranoid

Evan is eating A LOT more than he did even a few weeks ago. For example, I used to feed him every 3 hours. Then he wanted to eat every 2.5 hours, and NOW he wants to eat every 2 hours.

Due to the amount of milk he wants in a day, I have found myself with no milk left in me at dinner time, or worse, bed time. Thankfully I had stockpiled a good amount of milk a few months back. We had those bags to rely on, but we have now used them all up (mostly when he was babysat).

I am now paranoid that I never have enough milk for him come the afternoon. I know I SHOULD have confidence in my body producing what my baby needs, but because of those few times I have been "sucked dry" (lol) I have little faith.

Long story short, I wanted to be able to count on formula for 'once a day feedings' when he's really hungry, and for days I am not with him. I tried to give Evan formula on a couple occasions, but he wanted nothing to do with it. I began to get a little worried that we would have to start experimenting with other brands of formula.

Turns out Evan just wasn't hungry enough to try something new. Today he was hungry, and I decided to give the formula a go again. He downed it like the champ he is.

He's now blissfully asleep with a full tummy.

Time to get on the treadmill. ;)

IT'S ALIVE!!! ...

Posted by the Weisdaddy. It's amazing. Four months of mindless drooling and epileptic body jerking, and all of a sudden, as if overnight, our little boy is alive with intelligence. You can see it in how he looks at everything, including us, his Mama and Dada. He studies everything with a look of earnest curiosity. He plays with his toys now with a giant smile on his face, and a little laughter for good measure. He talks and coos along with books while we read to him. He stares at other people and at certain things for lengthy periods, inquisitively demanding that they reveal their mysteries to him. I'm sure every parent thinks that their kid is a genius at this age.

Well, heights of intelligence aside, month four certainly started rocky in terms of Evan's daily furor. When last I blogged, Evan had given us a week of heaven, which was promptly followed by about a week or so of hell. As I was back at work from the holidays, Lindsay was left with no option but to dig a trench, and begin this arduous fight across 'no mans land' by herself. She managed to make it across in victory though, and in the process helped Evan to a better nap schedule, and ushered him into a state of cheerfulness during the days that has mostly stuck with him. She's an incredible mom.

It was a big month of changes for our boy. Evan started swimming lessons early January... he's never hated them... though, he hasn't smiled yet either... he's basically a little deer in headlights for the entire half an hour. It's pretty funny to watch. Another big change is that he has now been babysat by my parents during the evening twice, and my mom once for a whole work day! This is probably the most exciting development, as it's an important milestone for both Lindsay and I, but also my parents. They have been excited to be a part of Evan's life in this way, and having the experience now of seeing Evan's modus operandi, they have the foundation of confidence in caring for him. This makes it easier for us to part with him, and for them to take him, a real win-win. As a result of him being babysat a few times though, we're basically out of pumped breast milk. This isn't a huge issue in our minds though, as Evan has already started slurping on rice cereal, and is only a month away from probably experimenting with pureed 'this' and mashed up 'that'. Our plan has always been to transition him off of the breast and onto formula around the six month mark, so a little formula here and there certainly can accommodate the shortfall of pumped milk.

As an aside, it's surprising how many parents can be such animals when it comes to how to 'properly' raise a baby. Take the formula topic I just mentioned as an example; many parents will insist that you're 'effing' over your child by not giving them breastmilk until they're 55... hee hee, okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but the emotion they represent regarding the topic certainly makes it a realistic impression. This is only one of many issues that parents have decided they are experts on, something that shocks my humble perspective on all things learned. I'm the first to admit that every day is a learning experience with our baby, and that it's mostly trial and error. I also can see clearly the truth that just because something is right for one's child, does not make it so for the other. Following that truth, there's also the simple realization that there are many roads that lead to a happy and healthy baby, with the most important condition being to have loving parents guiding that baby down whichever path is chosen.

In following with that line of thought, another big change this month, and one that always seems to stir controversy, is that we have successfully ushered Evan into the ability to put himself to sleep at nighttime. Sleep training is a hot topic it seems, and one that deserves a fair amount of 'mind your own children, and I'll mind mine'. It was becoming near impossible to put Evan to sleep at night, with a massive toll being taken on our knees and back, not to mention the mental aspect that a screaming baby adds. Evan required a massive amount of bouncing and shushing to bring him past his anger and into sleep, and he was beginning to fight through that as well. Add to that the fact he is becoming heavier it seems by the day, and it was clear to Lindsay and I that we had to help Evan sort out his bedtime frustrations. We'd read and discussed all about sleep training, and one night when nothing was working, we felt it time to try it out. I took the reigns that first night, and once Evan was mostly calm, I tucked him in while awake. As this was not the norm, he clearly cried. After a minute I shushed him and stroked his head and face, and he calmed a little. Next was to go two minutes, then three, then four, then five. In total, it took him a half an hour to fall asleep that first night, and he only cried in earnest for half of that time. Each time I went to him, singing, shushing, and petting, he became more and more calm. It was an impressive sight to see. From the twenty minute mark until the thirty mark when he fell asleep, I didn't have to go back in. I simply stayed outside his room listening to him talk to himself. Finally, the one-sided conversation stopped and he was asleep. The following night was far easier, and then every night since, except maybe two odd nights, Lindsay will put him down after his final feeding and he'll smile at her and chat with himself until he falls asleep. I'd have to say that this is exactly what our baby needed. I would never suppose that this is what every parent has to do, as it's clear to me that every child has different needs, but it certainly smells of something rotten when others insist that they have the answers to the universe, and that such sleep training is bad for the baby. Lindsay and I share the same instincts on parenting, and although books are well and good - certainly helping to set a foundation of knowledge to make decisions from - when you find yourself in the trenches of raising a baby, you have to be ready to make quick decisions that are certainly far from textbook. At least that's my thoughts on the matter.

So here we are, in the middle of Evan's fifth month. I love my son. I'm thrilled at the experiences and growth which he has brought to my own maturity of thought and character. He last clocked in at four months old weighing fifteen pounds and measuring close to 26 inches long. Not quite NBA height yet, but we'll get there. We'll get there, lol.

Truths from a mom.

I think that becoming a mom (or dad) teaches you A LOT about yourself.

For example:

I THOUGHT I was a pretty patient person, but when it came down to it, I found myself with little patience when it came to Evan fighting sleep (mostly because we would end up bouncing him for as little as half an hour or as long as 2 hours at a time - it's VERY hard on the knees), or waking up numerous times in the middle of the night when he used to sleep right through (spoiled I KNOW!), or crying for (in my opinion) no reason, or because I couldn't find an hour in my day to clean the house which hadn't been cleaned in weeks - gross.

I THOUGHT I would enjoy raising an infant the most. I was 14 when my youngest brother was born, and it was so awesome being able to help raise that baby. I loved how tiny he was, how cuddly and helpless he was, the way he would fall asleep in my arms... I find myself greatly appreciating this new stage where Evan is a little more independent though. The stage when he can start playing with his own toys, he can hold his head up and practically sit up, and play in his exersaucer.

I THOUGHT I would love being a stay at home mom. I never thought I would have a desire to go back to work, but I find myself looking forward to getting back. It COULD also be cause I don't have a car and won't go outside in the winter. If it were summer year round, I'd probably be all over the idea of staying home. ;)

I knew that when I lack sleep or food, I get very grumpy -- if I were on Survivor, I would probably kill everyone on that show by day 4. ha! -- I didn't know that I could get grumpy enough that my complaining (about everything) would become so excessive it would start to annoy ME. (Sorry Gregg!)

I do believe I had a mild case of postpartum depression for a little while a couple of months back. It was difficult for me to deal with because I was always someone who had full control over my emotions. This was something I wasn't used to feeling or dealing with. Through talking with Gregg, and forcing myself to take time in the day for me, I was able to kick those feelings... but it was a short rough patch... a rough patch I wasn't expecting.

Ohh, but parenting is a joy. Evan is growing in leaps and bounds! It is a really incredible feeling to know that I am playing a huge part in molding him into who he is going to be, and teaching him something new every day.

He still LOVES his books. He takes even more interest in them now, and when I am reading to him, he talks along with me and tries to turn the pages (or eat them).
He can grasp onto his toys and put them in his mouth now. EVERYTHING ends up in his mouth.
While holding onto our thumbs he can get himself from lying down, to sitting up, to standing up!
He is a little chatterbox talking to himself while he plays, or talking himself to sleep.
He has learned to put himself to sleep in his crib when it's bedtime. (My knees couldn't be happier!!)
He is learning to put himself to sleep in his bouncy chair when it's nap time. (My knees couldn't be happier!!)
He eats like a champ, and has mastered eating from a spoon.
Since he started his swimming lessons, he loves bath time even more and water on his face doesn't bother him as much.
He is so snugly - wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his head on your shoulder.
He smiles all the time now, and is developing a great laugh!

Evan is 4 months old now. It feels like it's been a long 4 months. Not in a bad way at all, but you hear so many new parents say "I can't believe my baby is already 3 months... or 6 months..." but to me, I can't believe it's only been 4 months. Maybe I'll feel different when he hits a year? It does amaze me though, that in just 4 months Evan has grown up so much.

So, mamahood is a wonderful thing... It teaches you where your weaknesses are in life, and if you choose to accept the challenge, it will make you a better person if you work on those weaknesses. It also takes away any selfishness you may have and replaces it with love, grace, and sacrifice. I would do ANYTHING for this boy and be happy doing it.

CHANGING, ALWAYS CHANGING...

Posted by the Weisdaddy. It absolutely blows me away how a baby grows so rapidly, and changes at break-neck speed. Just when you manage to muster up the intellect to match wits with your young one - deciphering their emotional status and requirements - they change course again. The need to adapt to their changes is impressive to say the least. After reaching a boiling point in Evan's angry and sad emotional status last week, Lindsay and I adapted. We used our combined intelligence to reason that perhaps Evan required more naps during the day, and maybe an extra feeding to boot. We figured it was worth a shot, as it certainly couldn't hurt... and it didn't. Thank the good Lord, it didn't hurt things one bit. On the contrary, it radically improved his level of happiness to the point where he was only lightly fussing for naps again, as was his typical self from month number two and early in month number three. It allowed us to have an incredibly relaxing holiday week - one that had begun with great fear and trepidation of how to handle our little guy.

This allowed us to enjoy a great New Years Eve with some of our closest friends as well. Not only was he relatively happy during that evening, but as we ventured into putting Evan to bed in a strange home, slightly straying from his routine, he managed to fall asleep and stay asleep until we came to pack him up around 1:30am. He fell back asleep in the car, and stayed in his slumberous state throughout the transfer from carseat to crib once we arrived at home. From there he basically slept the rest of the night as he usually does. Incredible to say the least. I think as a parent you have to prepare for the worst, and we certainly had done so. Having it go so perfectly left us as happy as we could have hoped. In order to pull off 'Project Bedtime', we brought his fold-up playpen/bassinet with us to act as his crib, and also his little stuffed doggy that makes the heartbeat sound, setting it all up in a quiet room upstairs. We followed his routine as closely as possible, simply in a different environment, and I even left my iPhone playing his rockabye tunes to help make it as close to his normal bedtime as was possible. We both were ecstatic it went that smoothly.

Another cool development would be that we've managed to get Evan napping during the day entirely without requiring said nap to occur whilst in someones arms. He now naps in his vibrating chair, and does so quite nicely. Although I miss him sleeping in my arms, this is truly a blessing that allows us to actually do stuff and enjoy some quiet time during the day.

Anywho, I'm back to work now, and Lindsay is once again pulling the long day shift caring for our little guy - an absolute full time job, bear no mistake. He's been mostly good, but in true form to the title of this post, he has once again changed on us. I assume that he has completed his contractual period of peace allotted to us for having figured out his previous puzzle, and has now concocted some more diabolical questions for us to answer. He is still behaving far better than what I will likely recall going forward as "The Dark Days", but seems to be requiring a different nap schedule again, and is simply more hands on right now. He's also clearly had an impressive growth spurt, outgrowing some of his sleepers that have fit him for some time now. Exciting as that is, he doesn't quite fit into his bigger sleepers yet, leaving us at a slight impasse for the time being.

Well that's all for now folks. Hopefully I'll have some more stories in my arsenal in the weeks ahead. Also, I'm fairly close to uploading some new videos and photos onto the website here, so stay tuned for that. Cheers!

THE SHOE HATH DROPPED...

Posted by the Weisdaddy. Phew, what a month. With great growth comes great and sometimes furious anger... apparently. Our little baby boy, while still incredibly good at sleeping through the night, has entered into the baby zone. This may come as devilishly good news to those parents that have been secretly cursing our easy first two months, lol, and in some ways I'm partially glad to be experiencing this season in Evan's life. I had begun to fear that our future kids would be the reverse of Evan's nature, and that we'd go insane trying to deal with them. Now, through trial by fire, I'm learning that we can deal regardless of how tough it has become.

Evan started month three with a mild crankiness during his days. It began to worsen as it became clear that his teeth had begun to cut. He hasn't broken any through yet, but you can see three working their way to the surface. Also, his daily napping diminished from hour long sleeps to fifteen or thirty minute cat naps. He finds it hard to stay asleep once down, which only ends up making him more angry as the day gets long. It has provided Lindsay with some marathon days, and myself with some tough evenings and weekends.

The tough days are made durable by a few factors: one is that Lindsay and I carry the load as equally as possible, another is that his good days are out of this world good and even on his bad days he stills flashes his super cute smiles for us, and the other is that he is still sleeping straight through the night. When I say straight, I mean a whopping eleven hours standard. So yeah, that clearly helps us to keep rested so we can deal with his fury. The other great changes this month would have to be just how amazingly he is developing. His neck control is solid now and needs no help, and he's now able to steady his upper body with some assistance. He's also super interested in books, toys and the world around him, and gleefully "baby-talks" to us like mad. He also loves assisted standing and jumping, which usually gets him through some of his fussy spells.

So yeah, still insanely cute and heart-meltingly adorable, but I can definitely say I've heard him at his saddest, and it's an emotionally draining sinkhole of despair that leaves you in a zombie-like stupor once he finally gives up the ghost and nods off for a snooze. Many of the great tricks that worked so well in months one and two, now prove futile against his new found immunity to our Jedi mind tricks. My great hope is that as he enters into his fourth month of life, that his great and spectacular curiosity of the world and all that is around him, will help to keep him distracted from his anger - making the coming days easier than they seem to have been for some time now.

On a happy note, one of his amazingly good days happened to fall on Christmas Eve, which we spent with my parents and brother. It made for one of the most memorable days of my life and just a fantastic first Christmas memory of my boy. Alright month four, let's see what you got.

TWO MONTHS OLD!

Posted by the Weisdaddy. My goodness. Time is a precious commodity, one that has seemingly progressed in short order and yet sluggishly all the same. It has been just under two months since my last post, which seems like not that long ago; however, upon reflection, a great deal has happened throughout this time. Evan has grown tremendously since his birth, with a temperament that nears what I would envision as perfection. Bear no mistake though, he certainly does his share of fussing and crying, just perhaps not quite a "fair" share depending on who you ask, lol. He essentially fusses before naps during the day and when he gets tired, and he only cries on rare occasions like when he's really hungry. His fussing before naps can be tiring at times to work through, but twenty minutes of bouncing and shushing before naps can hardly be considered as difficult on the grand scale of things. Even during his first cold that he caught back about three weeks ago, he was an angel who slept practically the entire few days that he was really suffering.

So, two months in. Where to start, lol. I'm constantly referring to the first four weeks now as "The Early Days", which many find to be quite humorous. It's just that so much has changed since that time, making it truly feel like eons have passed. Evan has grown from 8lbs 4oz and 20.5 inches, to well into the 12lb range and 23 inch range. We'll be having updated measurements done tomorrow, but that's what we reckon based off our last check-up a couple of weeks ago. He's gone from being a simple and tiny creature, to a smiling and engaging little person. His neck and leg strength and hand co-ordination have dramatically improved upon what was already considered advanced for his age, and he gets a real kick out of assisted standing and jumping. We figure in the next month he'll have the neck strength to start hanging out in his jolly jumper and bumbo chair. Here's an early pic and a recent pic to see how he's changed:

He's also gone from sleeping in our bed the first week, to sleeping in a bassinet in our room for two weeks, to sleeping permanently in his crib in the nursery ever since. Each transition was faced with only a little resistance, we had a pretty sweet system that seemed to work flawlessly. As a gift from our friend Madaleine, we have this stuffed animal dog that has a heartbeat sound that it makes for up to 45 minutes on a timer. From about day three I believe, we began to use it to soothe Evan to sleep at night. We would then leave it running until it stopped, and then use it again each time he woke up for feedings. We also started to notice that Evan would literally sleep anywhere, and so took the initiative and tried putting him in his crib one night. With the stuffed dog doing his thing, and Lindsay putting in a solid couple of hours attending to Evan, he finally took to sleep, and the rest has been a breeze. He started sleeping five hour chunks straight away in his crib, and is now sleeping an average of nine hours straight with his record being eleven hours just a few nights ago.

Evan's temperament has obviously reflected generously on our behalf, with people thinking we have everything to do with it, and we've devilishly decided to take all the credit, lol. No, the truth is that we know how lucky we've been with him, and believe me, we're thankful for it every single day.

Other than his cold, and some congestion that he's suffered from since, he's been perfectly healthy. We had our final midwife appointment the first week of November, which was a sad farewell. The Burlington midwives we had were nothing short of phenomenal. They carried out their duties with great care for us and Evan, and were always a delight to chat with. We look forward to being able to have them help us again in the future. This ending marked the beginning of another journey though, as we had no idea who we would have as a family doctor for Evan. We left the matter until our time was up with the midwives, and then began to explore this avenue diligently. I discovered an online resource from the government of Canada that assists people in finding new doctors - Health Care Connect. Within days of registering Evan, they contacted me with a few names of doctors accepting new patients in Burlington, and I followed up by searching their ratings online. The one we chose is a young woman who practices down our street, closer to Brant Street. We've had our first visit with her recently - as Evan developed a sty in his left eye - and will be going back tomorrow for Evan's first immunization shots. She seems extremely friendly and Lindsay liked her so much that she has now switched from her previous doctor - who was a real piece of work - and is now also with Evan's new doctor. Lindsay is rightly apprehensive regarding this first shot for Evan. When she was a baby she had an extremely dangerous reaction to her shots. Our doctor is confident though that with the immunizations being so very different nowadays from when we were infants, that he should be fine. So we'll see, I'm going by faith that all will be great.

In other news, with the Christmas season coming up, and our first night out away from Evan looming large in the form of our company Christmas party, Lindsay has started the process of pumping breastmilk for stockpile that we can use for bottle feedings. We chose to rent a hospital grade Medela pump, called the Symphony, from our local Shoppers Drug Mart. It features double pumping and far more sophisticated technology than the ones on store shelves - making it quicker to pump and more comfortable. It has worked great so far and we should have more than enough breastmilk now for events that require Lindsay to be apart from Evan for more than three hours. Can anyone say 'date night'?! I gave Evan his first bottle on Saturday in order to start getting him used to it, and he took to it like a champ! I brushed his lip with the nipple and waited for him to open wide like usual, and then just popped it in and he drank without any fuss or care. We'll try again a few times before our Christmas party, but it looks like it'll work great.

We now have Evan wearing cloth diapers pretty much ninety-five percent of the time, and he wasn't bothered switching from the disposables at all. We used newborn disposables for the first while, and then we had been gifted stage one diapers from friends and family, so we used those up as well. He wasn't quite big enough to fit into the cloth diapers we had purchased until about four weeks ago, but we had about six small size cloth diapers that we used here and there before then to get him used to them. Again, he never batted an eye when switching between disposables or cloth. We now use disposables only for when we're out and about, or if a particular outfit suits the smaller size of the diaper. I would heavily recommend to any new parent that you use disposables for the first two to four weeks. You go through quite a number of diapers at this point, and it just doesn't make any sense to deal with the alarming amount of laundry you'd have to endure. Not to say don't bother, simply to say, this is way easier, lol. There's just so much recuperating and caring for the baby to do, that we were really happy to have done it this way. Now that he's not going through so many diapers in a day, it's a joy to use cloth diapers. They're certainly not that much more difficult to put on than a disposable, and despite the initial up front cost, they're far less expensive than disposables over the long haul. We don't really think much about the 'green effect' of using cloth, despite knowing that it's a good thing - we're just in it for the money, lol.

Well, I feel like I could blather on forever, but I'll cut this post short. Hopefully we'll find time to post more, but as I mentioned at the beginning: time is a precious commodity. These days Lindsay and I take our down time to enjoy with each other, or to tackle the endless list of 'to-do's' that add up with Misser Baby in the picture. I leave you with yet another adorable picture of our boy - this one featuring him decked out in his first Halloween costume!

Photoshoot

When Evan was just 2 weeks old, we had professional baby pictures done by a good friend of mine. You can find them here:
Rabbat Photography
I must say, I think they're amazing!
(She loves hearing what people think of her work. Feel free to leave a comment on her site)

In other news, Evan is a healthy little boy now measuring 23" long and weighs 11.5 lbs. As a goodbye gift to our midwife, he peed on her leg. Always thinking of others, that boy is. We are gonna dearly miss our midwives! They were amazing to us. I guess I'll have to have more kids so we can get them back. ;-)

We have an amazing bedtime routine going right now which allows me to put him to bed when he's wide awake and he'll stay there for at least 6 hours before he calls me. Now to get nap time to be like that. During the day he has to be in your arms in order to get a good sleep in. I'm learning though, that his routine seems to change every few weeks. We will see what the next few weeks brings.

Well, it's 5am and I should try to get more sleep.

Nuthin But A Joy

It has been quite a while since one of us has posted anything. I do apologize, but if you are a parent, you know how busy raising a baby can be.

Evan has been a dream.
He seldom fusses, and when he does, it's easy to manage.
He sleeps like a dream, giving us on average 3 hours of sleep at a time since the day he was born. Some nights he's given us as much as 8 hours at a time!
He eats like a champ, and breastfeeding is going smashingly; latching properly since the moment he started eating.
He can sleep pretty much anywhere - his car seat, play pen, crib... and of course our arms.

Evan is now 5 weeks old and weighs just over 10 lbs. We don't know how long he is, but he is definitely growing!! Already he has grown out of some of his sleepers.

He has started smiling which melts our hearts.

Since I don't know how to post pictures on this website, I will share this link with you. If you don't have a facebook account you probably haven't seen these photos (if any at all)

PHOTOS OF EVAN
(Please comment if this like doesn't work for you)

I must say, I have healed pretty good from the birth. I still have many of the stitches they gave me, but I don't feel them any more, and I am **feeling** like I have completely healed now. For this I am UBER grateful!

I will try and post again sooner than later, but for now, I have a sleeping baby and I want to take advantage of that.

ta ta.

THE AFTERMATH...

Posted by the Weisdaddy. There is so much more to the story that I want to tell, but I thought I'd leave the main story of Evan's birth with the last post and tell the rest in another. This particular story picks up where the last left off. A peaceful house, and a baby boy to start looking after. Evan was handed back to Lindsay once she was lying down and he fed for the first time. The kid latched on like it was his business! A perfect latch right off the bat was a welcomed blessing after what Lindsay had been through. After feeding, our lead midwife took Evan and gave him a full examination. He weighed in at 8lbs 4oz, and 20.5 inches from head to toe. His color was already fantastic, and he was considered in perfect health.

It was close to 4:15am at this point, and the Midwives began cleaning up their end of things. They drew a bath for Lindsay to soak in, and I helped her upstairs while Evan was swaddled and placed in the bassinet in our bedroom. They checked his temperature and found he was below body temp, so they quickly had me take my shirt off and placed him skin-to-skin with me. They then wrapped both of us in one of our comforters and I stood holding him while chatting with the Midwives. I was in mid-sentence when all of a sudden I went "Ow, ow, OW!". My beautiful boy had decided he was peckish and went in search of a meal ticket. Instead, he found my upper chest and went about his business trying to give me a hickie. Laughs were shared and Lindsay was dried off, tended to, and brought in to feed some more. We lay in bed together with our boy while the Midwives finished cleaning up, and finally left around 6:00am.

I made some quick phone calls to Lindsay's Mom, and my Dad, and then we both fell asleep. We napped for about two hours, and then woke to our boy needing more food. Being mostly awake from the adrenaline, I got to work being the best husband I could be and started by making Lindsay breakfast in bed. When I first walked downstairs into the living room, my eyes beheld a scene that looked like something out of a CSI episode. Instantly the memories flooded in of the past event, and the emotions that I had been able to silence came back at once. I wept. It wasn't sadness that made me weep. Nor was it joy necessarily. Rather it was simply the pure emotion of what Lindsay and I had just gone through. After collecting myself, I brought up Lindsay's breakfast and then went back downstairs to get to work. I collected dirty laundry and tidied up a bit.

I began draining the pool in the afternoon, which went well. A liner is used inside the pool, so once it was drained pretty much completely, I simply pulled it off, folded it up, and dumped it in the trash. After processing a load of laundry, I spent the rest of the day taking care of Lindsay, making us meals, sleeping, and changing all of Evan's diapers. I slept the next few nights on the couch to make it easier for Lindsay and Evan to sprawl out on the bed. I kept my phone beside me so she could call me when she needed help. After a few days, we had him sleeping in the bassinet nicely, and I was able to share the bed again. The sleeps are worse, but I can't stand sleeping apart from my girl.

The past two weeks are beginning to feel a blur now that I'm actively recalling everything, but it's been great. I've been off work almost the entire time, and Evan is growing so well. He's surpassed his birth-weight by almost a pound at this the two and a half week point. He's so alert when he's awake and is soooo cute. His fussing is mild and easily cured at it's worst. He sleeps usually throughout the night in three hour spurts, which has been enough for us to be rested enough. We've all been out of the house on a few occasions now, and Evan is generally content in any set of arms he's in, but of course likes ours the most. :-) Life is good, Lindsay is mostly healed up and has her energy back, and with Thanksgiving coming up this weekend, you can be sure that we won't be at a loss for words. I'm starting back up at work now, and life is slowly taking on it's new shape for us. Exciting times!

EVAN DAVIS WEISBROD...

Posted by the Weisdaddy. September 18th was a date circled on our calenders ever since January. It was a date that marked the arrival of great changes for Lindsay and I - a date that marked the estimated arrival of our baby boy. Saturday September 18th came with great anticipation that eventually flickered before slowly extinguishing as the day wound to an end. Before completely turning over it's reigns to Sunday however, Saturday ended with a whisper of what was soon to come. After doing our part to help bring on labor, Lindsay began to feel some mild lower back pains and some mild contractions. Despite these mild signals, sleep came upon us as we entered into what would be our last night together as just the two of us.

The night was a bumpy road to Sunday morning, with Lindsay awaking around 6:00am in the morning to mild thirty second long contractions and a hungry tummy. After having a bite and relaxing in the living room, she managed to find further sleep on the couch until around 9:30am. This is where I re-entered the grand narrative, as Lindsay joined me in the bedroom to share the news about her contractions.

Hollywood would have you believe that labor comes on in rush of "Oh my gosh!" pain, and a crazy reaction of anxiety and reckless driving on the way to the hospital. Our reality was not such a reaction. It was calm. It was surreal in it's peacefulness. It was a comfortably excited acknowledgment that, within the next day or two, we would definitely be holding our baby boy in our arms. An acknowledgment that the long and amazing chapter of our early married life was ending in peace, and with the anticipation of a new and exciting chapter only a mere page or two away.

We decided to spend our day right, and made plans to grab a light breakfast and run some simple errands. We walked as much as we could, as we had read that walking helps to speed things along - as it puts all the right kinds of pressure on all the bits that need it. Gravity doing it's thang. We walked to our local Tim Horton's, then afterward drove out to our local Longo's for some last minute groceries, where Lindsay shopped for some maternity clothes at the outlet stores by the Longo's, and we finished by grabbing a large drop cloth from our office to help set the scene for our impending home birth.

After returning home in the mid-afternoon, Lindsay's contractions remained steady and mild. We took advantage of the time and shot some last-minute belly pictures, knowing it was likely our last chance to do so. As the evening arrived, we decided to keep some dinner plans that we had made with our friends Liz and Ryan, and Laura and Jeremy. Liz and Ryan hosted wonderfully, and provided some comic relief in the form of Lindsay's dining room chair. It was rendered waterproof by placing it inside of a kiddie pool and covering it with plastic sheets(we have the best friends, lol). Little did they know that they had provided the classic foreshadowing in this ascending plot-line. After some great food and alot of laughs, everyone retired to the living room while I made a bathroom pit-stop. As I was about to leave the bathroom, the rising action in our story took a shot of adrenaline. Sounds of great commotion erupted throughout the house, and were followed by a frantic knocking on the bathroom door.

"Gregg?!"
"What's wrong Lins?"
"My water just broke. I need to get in there."
"Really?!"
"Yeah."

I opened the door to my beautiful Lindsay standing there in a puddle of amniotic fluid. We quickly changed places, and I went into the living room to gain a play-by-play of the recent events. The scene displayed an amount of joy and laughter that was sincere and touching. Congrats were handed out as it was clear to both of those sets of "already-parents" what was soon to become reality for Lindsay and I. The scene also uncovered the point of origin where Lindsay's water broke: Ryan and Liz's couch. They were quick to act in cleaning it up, and avoided any staining. I was informed that Lindsay suddenly had made a shocked look on her face, and then leapt into the air and ran out of the room - being compared to, and I quote, "a nine-month pregnant gazelle". Liz provided some much needed clothing for Lindsay, and we made our hugs and goodbyes.

The drive home was easy, and Lindsay appeared much in the same state of comfort as the day had provided. She called the midwife and was simply told to try and get some sleep. Like all triage nurses, midwives operate on similar concepts of pain to assess the state of affairs. Lindsay, having had a calm and painless voice, was presumed to simply be in very early labor. Well, yeah. No. She wasn't, lol. As soon as we arrived home and she stood up, it was as if a switched had been flicked on, and the real pains of labor took hold. I helped Lindsay upstairs to bed, and she made an attempt to sleep. It was fruitless, the pain was too great. I left her with a contraction timer app on my iPhone, and went about my business of getting the living room ready for the big event.

Having already set-up the birthing pool once before to test for leaks, as well as a general idea of where to move pieces of furniture, I had a good idea of what to do and acted with a surreal singular purpose and focus. I laid down a large camping tarp first as a water barrier, and then laid the drop cloth over top of it to provide a nicer canvas to walk upon. I set the tables up and cleared them for the midwives to use as needed, and setup our dining room table - organized with all of the items the midwives had requested we have on hand for them. Finally I inflated the tub and filled it up. In between every step, I would check on Lindsay, giving her encouragement as her pain was clearly increasing exponentially. After having everything in place, and the pool filled up, I joined Lindsay permanently and started to time her contractions for her. It was around 10:30pm at this point.

Lindsay had been suffering for the last hour and forty minutes approximately. The goal with timing is generally to reach one minute long contractions, every five minutes from the start of one to the start of the next one, consistently over the period of one hour. This tells the midwives that it's almost showtime and marks the end of what is considered the distractible pain. Well, foreign circumstances arrived as I timed Lindsay consistently at close to two and half minute long contractions every six to seven minutes apart, with the pain never completely stopping - just getting milder in between. It broke my heart to see Lindsay in such immense pain, but my mind remained clear and focused on helping her as much as I could. After about forty minutes of this gong-show, I decided that her labor was progressing abnormally compared to the average, and I wasn't going to wait any longer. I called our lead midwife and explained the situation. After talking to Lindsay as well, our midwife told me that she was a little confused and so would be coming over in the next half an hour. The next twenty minutes ended with a shocking announcement from Lindsay. As the contraction came on, she blurted out, "I feel like I have to push!". *Ahem.* What?! I told her to try and resist for the next ten minutes until our midwife arrived, and when the contraction ended, I moved her downstairs to the couch.

Her announcement was interesting to say the least. You see, I'd become quite knowledgeable about birth throughout Lindsay's pregnancy, and I'd learned all the stages and the signs that mark those stages. So when Lindsay said she had to push, instantly I knew that she had finished early labor, and active labor, AND the transition phase. I knew that she had reached the end of her major phases: the birthing phase. It was a shock to say the least. In the days after, it's become clear that all day Sunday she had managed to get through early and active labor without any major pain - which is not the norm, but does happen for some women. This means she was likely 7 or 8 cm dilated when her water broke - which makes perfect sense for the water having gushed and not trickled out. The intense pain was her going through the transition phase, which sees the cervix dilate fully to 10 cm, and our baby boy had started his journey out into the world. When our midwife arrived and examined Lindsay, she went to feel inside for the baby only to display a shocked and bewildered look on her face, coupled with the words, "Oh! Wow, there's his head. You're gonna have a baby anytime now you guys. Go ahead and get in the pool Lindsay." It was approximately midnight.

The pool. Wow. Two words: instant relief. As Lindsay lowered herself into the body temperature heated water, the look on her face said it all. For the first time in hours, she finally felt relief, and the pain in between contractions faded as well. The next two and a half hours brought a different tone to the story though. The pushing had begun, and with it Lindsay entered into what can only be described as the most intense marathon of endurance I've ever witnessed. She would push during her contractions, as her body simply demanded it, using an intense and low moaning to get her through each one. By the end her voice was cracked, and her throat took a couple of days to heal up. In between pushing, she would simply enter into a zone of energy saving and attempt to rest. She spent an hour in one position, and then an hour and a half in her final position. As the hours passed by, it became harder to watch her suffer, and we both wished and prayed for the baby to come with each contraction/push. Vocally though, I praised her for her strength and her progress, as both were clearly evident, and encouraged her that she could do it. I left her side only once to see the baby's head crowning, and a couple times to get her ice chips and water.

As the two hour mark passed, you could clearly see our baby's head almost halfway out during the pushes, and our midwife began to ask for more pushes during each contraction. Lindsay had on average been making three pushes per contraction, but now had to make a fourth push at the end on her own strength. The contractions make you have to push, but the fourth pushes were always just outside of that urge. She was a champ though, and after twenty minutes of this strategy, on the fourth push, at 2:22am on Monday morning, our sons head popped out completely. A fifth push was demanded, and the body came out like a shotgun. Lindsay and the midwives grabbed our boy and brought him up to Lindsay's chest. His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, but it was loose, and came unwrapped quickly. His heart beat during the birth had always come through around 135 bpm, and only spiked once, and dipped once. So he essentially had as peaceful a birth as you could hope for, and the cord never hurt him on his trip out.

He was covered in the white waxy vernix, and had a full head of hair. His eyes opened, and mine watered. We waited on pins for his first cry, his cord still pulsating blood and oxygen into him. Willing him on, after 30 seconds, he let out his first cry. Such a sound will never bring such peace again I'm sure, but it was the most beautiful sound to hear at that moment. Our midwife clamped his cord off and handed me the scissors. I'd heard that the cord can be tricky to cut, so I tried to make sure I cut hard and quick. I ALMOST had it in one snip, I just missed a teeny bit which I made quick work of regardless.

Now this is where Hollywood would usually end the scene with total happiness and peace for everyone involved. Once again, this is not the case. The following would prove to be the hardest and most emotionally trying experience in both our lives. Worse for Lindsay by far as she had to endure it. A water birth is only dangerous in the aftermath, and let me clarify that Lindsay's went without any hitch or problem. The reality though is that it's difficult to gauge blood loss in water as it just flows out. In order to account for this variable, they simply have the mother leave the water as soon as possible after the cord is cut. Then the midwives can deliver the placenta and gauge accurately the level of blood loss. As the pool began to turn bright red in color, it was clear that Lindsay was bleeding heavily. The midwives helped Lindsay out and promptly delivered the placenta with a single push from Lindsay. They stuck her with a needle of oxytocin in her thigh to help her uterus to contract and slow the bleeding, but it wasn't the source of the majority of the bleeding - a blessing for sure, but the following wasn't so much. The bleeding was coming from tearing, and not normal tearing. Typically the lower part of the vaginal opening, the perineum, may tear to help the head fit through. Lindsay's did not - well not very much at all. Instead, she had tearing higher up on the opening, which is apparently extremely rare.

If you know Lindsay, you'll know that first and foremost she's terrified of needles. The next hour of her life was filled with needles to freeze some of the most sensitive parts on the female body, and the needling of the midwife suturing her back together down there. Ten stitches, and an hour of crying and pain that made the previous six hours of labor seem like a walk in the park, on a sunny day, WITH ice cream cones and happy faces... for real. I gave prayers and my hand for Lindsay to squeeze. Even when my thumb turned dark blue and throbbing with pain from the squeezing, I gave Lindsay nothing but every ounce of strength and encouragement I had to give. I told myself that my pain was nothing compared to hers, and that if my thumb fell off it would be worth it if it helped her get through her pain. Attempting to keep Lindsay's mind off of things, we talked about names. We decided on a name we had really liked, Kaleb Evan Weisbrod. We called him by name, each doing so only once. We looked at each other with knowing eyes that said "wait a sec, that's not right". We both agreed, he was not Kaleb. He was Evan. Evan means "God is gracious". Yeah. He was definitely Evan. We then used my middle name of Davis, which is also my dad's middle name, and was once the maiden name of my great-great grandmother(or something like that).

Once the hour was up, finally, peace began to descend on our house, and we were finally able to focus on our beloved Evan.

Evan Davis Weisbrod. Born September 20th, 2010, at 2:22am on a Monday morning. A new chapter begins. :-)

My Birth Story

On Sunday, September 19th, I woke up at 6am hungry, and having **mild** contractions lasting 30 seconds and happening between 6-8 minutes apart. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I got up and went down stairs so I wouldn't wake Gregg.

After about an hour in front of the tv, I fell asleep and woke up again close to 9:30. I went back up stairs where Gregg was awake but still in bed. I told him that if we didn't have a baby that day, it was going to be very soon.

We decided to skip church, do as much walking as possible to bring on active labour as fast as possible, and get things ready for our home birth.

We walked to Tim Horton's which is about a 15(?) min walk away. We had breakfast there and then walked back home. We decided we needed to get some food for us and the midwives, so we went to Longos, and then I went shopping for some breastfeeding shirts and track pants. We then headed to the office to pick up a painters drop sheet so people wouldn't be potentially slipping on the tarps surrounding the birthing pool which would soon be set up in our living room.

Nearing 4pm, my contractions were still very mild and hadn't progressed at all. They felt like mild menstrual cramps. Because my contractions weren't getting any stronger, we decided to keep some dinner plans we had with some friends.

We went to our friends' place around 6pm where I was greeted with a seat set up specially for me... A chair with a plastic cover on it, sitting in a kiddy pool. We all had a good laugh. Dinner was fun and did a great job of keeping my mind off the cramps. After dinner (around 8:30) we made our way into the living room to hang out for a bit. While sitting on the couch, I felt like I had... Ahem... Farted. I quickly realized though that something was wrong with the way I felt. Suddenly I realized, my water broke!! I jumped off that couch as quick as I possibly could (in hopes that I didn't get any on the couch) and bolted from the room towards the bathroom where Gregg happened to be. I knocked on the door and told Gregg what happened, and we quickly traded places. After I got myself cleaned up, I learned I left quite the puddle on the couch and in the hallway (despite all my attempts to save their house) what a mess!! I felt bad, and slightly embarrassed; everyone else thought it was hilarious they could witness such an event.

We left the house immediately, and on the way home we called the midwife. She asked me a bunch of questions, and then told me to try and get some sleep and call her when my contractions pick up to 1 min long, 5 mins apart, and goes on for an hour. Sounded fair to me.

We get home within 15 mins of my water breaking, and I think I'm gonna be in labour for the next 12-16 hours. As soon as I get out of the car, I can hardly walk. Not from pain of the contractions, but from a terrible pain of our baby's head pressing on what felt like my pubic bone.

Gregg helps me upstairs and hands me his iPhone with an app to time contractions. He heads downstairs to fill the pool and get everything ready. Now at this point, I have no sense of time and things in my head are a bit of a blur. My guess is I was timing my contractions for maybe an hour, and Gregg came up to check on me. I had stopped timing my contractions at that point because the pain was too severe for me to focus on anything but getting through each one. He stayed with me for another 30 mins and timed them for me. At some point I said to Gregg "I hope these contractions are getting worse and I'm not just getting tired because I can't do this for the next 10 hours!". By this point, the pain doesn't seem to go away between contractions but I try my best to tell him when one starts and when it ends. He then says he's going to call the midwife. I talk to her quickly between a contraction and she mentions she's on her way over. I learned later that Gregg called the midwife because my contractions were lasting an average of 2.5 minutes and were 6 mins apart. Anyway, 2 contractions after I get off the phone, I have a surprising and irresistible urge to push. I tell Gregg and he begs me not to. I say I don't want to (because the LAST place I wanted to give birth was on our bed), and as soon as that contraction is over he helps me downstairs. A few minutes later the midwife walks in and checks to see where I'm at in the labour. Expecting to be at my house for the next 12 hours, she was surprised to find the head "right there!" she asks me if I want to feel, and not thinking I'd feel the head, I was just as surprised as she was to feel him "right there" too!

She tells me to get in the pool and follow my instincts. As soon as I step in, a sudden a feeling of relief came over me. The pain between contractions completely went away. I believe this was around 11:45 to midnight.

Again, I had no concept of time, but I felt like I was pushing forever and not getting anywhere. Everyone kept encouraging me, telling me he's almost here and made comments on how much hair he has. My midwife also assured me that I had plenty of stretch and I won't tear and to "just give'er".

At 2:22am on Monday Sept 20th, after 2.5 hours of pushing, he finally came out. First his head and then with one last quick push, the rest of his body came out.

The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck and I heard the midwife say that, but in my deliriousness, I also thought she was handing him to me. For a moment, I got in her way as she tried to untangle him, but within seconds he was in my arms and we all held our breaths as we waited for him to take his first. 30 seconds later, he let out a cry, and Gregg cut the cord.

(FYI - this next paragraph is pretty graphic)
They quickly took me out of the pool because I started to bleed heavily. They gave me a shot of Oxytocin in my thigh to stop the bleeding, and with one last push, I delivered the placenta. Finally I was on our couch ready to breathe again, only to learn that I did tear (my inner labia - a pretty rare tear), and the midwives weren't sure if they could repair me. They were most afraid I tore my urethra too. The midwives weren't sure if they could repair me. They gave me an option: go to the hospital now so they could stitch me up, or let them freeze me to see whether they could stitch me themselves or not. I opted for the later option and after looking at me closer, they felt they could do it. It took about an hour of stitching and discussing where to stitch before they were done (it was like they were putting together a puzzle - pretty disturbing stuff). I believe I heard them count 10 stitches in the end. 7 or 8 of them were a continuous stitch. I still say to this day that I would give birth 3 times over before being stitched up like that again. Gregg's thumb at one point turned blue I was squeezing it so hard. He was incredible though, and didn't complain about my grip one bit.

So, from the moment my water broke to the moment I could breathe again after the stitching was done, it was 7 hours. Surprisingly short if you ask me and I couldn't have gotten through any of it without Gregg's support.

Mat Leave

So I've been off work for just over 2 weeks now, and I find myself asking "Where are all those naps I planned to take??"

Somehow I have kept insanely busy during my time off. Between social gatherings with friends coming to visit, finishing up small projects around the house, cleaning, cooking meals to freeze for when the baby comes, and midwife appointments, I find little time to just relax (let alone sleep).

I have forced myself the past 2 days to crawl into bed for at least an hour nap in the afternoons though. Especially because these past few nights I've been sleeping pretty bad. Thank you heartburn and round ligament pains! :P

The time (thankfully) is still flying by! I can't believe I've been off for 2 weeks already! I can't believe that there's only 4 days till my due date!

Our midwife said that she doesn't see any signs that I'll be having this baby before the 18th (my due date). I'm not surprised... and considering I'm due in a few days, I'm surprised with how comfortable I still am. I am hardly comfortable, but hearing how uncomfortable others moms were at this stage of their pregnancies, I feel very fortunate.

We'll see how close her guess is too, but we were surprised to hear that our midwife's guess on the size of our baby (should he be born on his due date) is only 7.5lbs! We (at least I) were expecting at least 9lbs. She did have a disclaimer though, saying that my torso is so long that there could be "baby" hiding in there that she doesn't feel, but that's still 2 different midwives saying that we have a very "average" size baby ('not too small but not very big either' were the words our other midwife used). I must say, that thought excites me!!!

We can't wait for this baby to come now! We are so excited to meet this little guy, and put a name and face to this little one.

Do I have any fears? Not really. I trust that when in labor, my body is going to do what it needs to do... and the pain doesn't frighten me - though I'm not looking forward to it. :P I also trust in our parenting skills that we will learn over time. I guess my only fear is that I will go so overdue that I will have no choice but to be induced taking away my chances to have my water birth. I have a little peace of mind knowing that in Halton, a mother is not forced to be induced no mater how over due she becomes unless the baby is in distress, but I guess I want this home birth so much that my biggest fear is having that taken away from me. Here I am, not even at my due date talking about this though. I realize it's an unnecessary worry right now.

ANY TIME NOW...

Posted by the Weisdaddy. It's a strange affair having kids. When you learn of their impending arrival, it's all you can do to temper the anticipation of the big day. Now that we find ourselves on the other end of the spectrum, with the possibility of our boy showing up at anytime, I find myself looking to eke out another day here and there to make sure everything is ready for when he arrives. Bare no mistake, I can't wait for him to come - I simply hope that I can have all my tees crossed before he arrives so that I can focus solely on him for a solid few weeks. Actually, it's a bit the other way around: I simply know that I won't be able to focus on anything other than him, but that there are responsibilities and such in life that also must be met (which probably won't be, lol). It's a simple matter of priorities, and I know myself quite well; I know that Lindsay and my son will take every priority on my list for a solid few weeks - as it should be. I wouldn't have it any other way, but it has left me with this "under-the-gun" mentality since she started maternity leave. I've been coming into work early every day since she started in an attempt to not only get on top of the ball, but to essentially beat it into submission - making things easier for me during my absence during what is always our busiest time of year. So far so good, but everyday I find new things that I feel I need to have a better handle on before taking some time off. That's life I suppose, and in the end I have faith that all will work out for the good, but yeah, that's just a small stroll through my thoughts at this moment. :-)

Can I say that so far Maternity leave is fantastic? I mean, I'm not the one off, and I'm not the one directly dealing with the discomforts of carrying a baby around all day, but every night for the past week and change has found me coming home to a warm cooked meal - and I love it! Working together, our typical conversation on the drive home from work would revolve around what the heck to make for dinner. Neither of us would have energy to cook, and thus the process became extremely painful and usually resulted in meals that batted below average. All of a sudden there's no conversation about meals and it's just there when I get home from work - I can honestly say that it has dramatically altered the typical sullen mood of the end of the work day into one of peace, happiness, and just a great desire to get home. Guys (and gals) who are lucky enough to afford a stay at home spouse, you're all a bunch of lucky bastards, lol! This won't last much longer in our house, as once the baby arrives, it'll be a different story altogether, and then of course Lindsay will be back at work after Mat Leave, but for now - it's a little a piece of heaven.

Anywho. I'm taking Linds out tonight to fit in some nice romantic alone time together before the storm comes. Then again, who knows, I might come home tonight to a wife in labor. Amazing to think that our lives will change overnight and yet we're both so very calm about it all. We know there will be some very tiring moments ahead, the likes of which we've never experienced, and yet we're both looking forward to the experience in all of it's grittiness as well as it's greatness. In all things, all the time, I've always tried to rejoice in the small things - tried to breathe in the moments that make up a day and capture them in my mind. Experiencing my son and watching him grow is gonna blow my mind on a daily basis, guaranteed. Anytime now... anytime.

*Excited*

Our birth pool just came in.
It's very exciting and a little nerve wracking at the same time.
Makes everything feel VERY real, and also has me praying constantly that the stars will line up so I can actually put the pool to good use.



I am still very confident in our decision though.

1 Month To Go

Today is August 18th, which means that in exactly 1 month, our baby is "due".

Of course, we don't know when he'll actually choose to come. He could be early, he could be late, he could be right on time. I'm preparing myself for the worst - in case he decides to be just like his mommy, and come 2 weeks late. We shall see though.

It's pretty exciting, the knowledge that in just a couple of weeks, we'll have a living, breathing, eating, crying, pooping, peeing, cooing, amazing, and gorgeous little boy in our arms to love and care for.

I am excited to experience all the firsts with ggregg during the first month of his life, while ggregg is home to help with everything. I know he'll be the best husband while I recover from the birth and he's gonna make such an incredible dad. I've known it since the day we started dating.

I'm excited to see what he looks like.
I'm excited to know what his name will be (No, we haven't picked a name yet. We're close, but we won't have one until we meet him).
I'm excited to see what kind of personality he's going to have.
I'm excited to hold him in my arms for the first time.
I'm excited to play with him in the bath, and go swimming with him.
I'm excited to dance with him in my living room.
I'm excited to cuddle with Gregg while weisbaby and mosey are in our arms.
I'm excited to take him outside for the first time.
I'm excited to learn how to be a mom instead of just a 'big sister' or 'aunty'.
I'm excited to introduce him to his grandparents, and uncles and aunts, and cousins and friends.

Honestly, there is such little fear that I have in becoming a mother. I believe that my body will do what it needs to do during labour and the birth. I trust that I will instinctively know how to care for this new baby. And I know that Gregg and I make up the best team possible, and we will do everything in our power to make our home the best home for our child to grow up in.

My fear of being a mom with a career (which was my biggest/only fear even before we decided to start trying for a baby) seems to have diminished. I know that with the help of Gregg, and family, and friends, I will be able to handle everything that comes my way and I will have the strength to be able to do what needs to be done.

Very soon I'm gonna be a mom, Gregg's gonna be a dad, and our life as we know it is going to drastically change... and we can't wait.