Who does she look like?

 

There are a standard set of questions that you get asked at every stage of babyhood. When you’re pregnant, it’s “How are you feeling?” and “When are you due?” and “Is it a girl or a boy?”. When you have a newborn, it’s “How are you sleeping?” and “Who does she look like?”. These are pretty legitimate questions and to most I have a straight forward answer. However, I haven’t quite figured out how to answer the one about her appearance. I have seen babies who look exactly like one of their parents, but I think that usually requires a bit of hair. So, here are some of our baby pictures. You should tell us.

One giant leap...

Beautiful isn't it? That picture will get some context later on. Here's another:

I'm a dad now. It's still strange to say. I look into the living room and my daughter sleeps peacefully. I find myself pacing the living room at four in the morning, without a complaint in my mind because my daughter is falling asleep with her head on my shoulder (Alisha may point out that I don't do that multiple times every night. Of course, even though Alisha does, she is more cheerful when Naomi wakes her in the middle of the night than if I wake her up in the middle of the night - something I learned early on never to attempt).

There's something about being a dad that I can't put in words. So enjoy this parable (I won't be offended if you just look at the pictures):

I remember when I was in middle school that I had a plan to be the first man on Mars. I knew exactly what I needed to do - letter in sports throughout high school, get good grades, go to the Air Force Academy, and become an astronaut. I talked to someone from church who had gone to the Air Force Academy. I looked up all the info on becoming an astronaut I could find on the internet. I would read about Mars every day and thought about it all the time. I have a notebook where I laid out all the things I needed to accomplish to achieve my dream. I distinctly remember planning what I would say as I set foot on the surface of Mars while I was in the shower.

I planned on looking a little less goofy.

Then one night as I lay in bed, waiting for sleep, I was thinking about the fact that it would take at least six months for the ship to get from Earth to Mars. One year for Mars to return to the right spot in its orbit to send the astronauts back. Six months to return to Earth. That would mean two years away from my wife and children. And the dream was eclipsed by another.

You may think I'm exaggerating a little, but just ask Alisha. My dad told her that story the first time he met her (parents are obligated to embarrass children, aren't they?). And when I heard James Lovell speak about the first time he saw earth rise over the moon, I cried. I'd given up something wonderful.

I've waited for Naomi for a long time. I may never enter space and witness that earth-rise, but I have held my daughter in my arms. I'll take that over Mars any day.

Roaming Part II

When Stephen and I realized that I would be on maternity leave still during his spring break, we realized that we should do something epic with our free week of vacation. Well…epic didn’t really happen. We couldn’t think of anything truly epic we could do with an infant in tow and without spending money. However, we did get to spend some needed time with family.

And we did get in some more practice traveling. Naomi does really well in the car…as long as she’s asleep. About 90% of her awake time is spent screaming. Not a car seat fan I guess,  but I don’t blame her – you have to face backwards, they’re not very cushiony, and so restrictive. We learned some useful tidbits. I’ve worked out that it takes about 50% longer to drive places now than it did when Stephen and I were ‘single’.

Next time we’ll have to do better at planning interesting places to stop. This time we stopped at an Urgent Care facility parking lot, a warehouse store parking lot, the side of a highway and a gas station Wendy’s. Not that that these places were too boring – the highway had purple wildflowers and the Wendy’s was tactically surrounded by a raucous bird army. Still, though, it might have been more fulfilling to stop at the museum of Texas prisons or the giant Sam Houston statue or even that pleasant tree-filled rest stop we accidently passed. We’ll have to work on that.

Our time time in Lake Jackson was filled with Naomi being passed between grandparents, Josh vying for favorite uncle, and getting the boys ready for their epic 50 mile canoe trip. We also got in some canoeing, took Naomi to see her first alligators (except she slept through that), went laser tagging, (except that Naomi and I sat in the car and ate) and did a little rock climbing in a Houston gym.

Brazos Bend



Family Pictures (Not extremely successful…Naomi was not in a smiley mood)

After Lake Jackson, we hung out with Dave and Tanya and family in Dallas. Naomi was definitely the center of attention there. The dogs were super jealous. Especially Simba, he didn’t get nearly as much attention from Stephen as he usually does. The young kids were especially interested in where Naomi gets her food. Ethan would tell anyone who would listen that Naomi eats from my belly. At one point, Audrey asked me if Naomi was eating my shirt.




We also got to attend the temple in Dallas. It was the only day then and since that Naomi has really taken a pacifier. I was stressed about leaving her since sometimes she cries the entire time, but we returned to a perfectly pacified baby and an peaceful (well, as peaceful as it gets when there are six kids at home) household. Heavenly Father reminded me that day that He is watching over us; it was a testament to me that the temple was where He wanted us to be that morning.

Roaming With Naomi

Ha. That almost rhymes. Well, not really but it looks like it should.

To end out my maternity leave we've been doing a little traveling. So far Naomi has made it to Lake Jackson, Dallas, and Provo, Utah.

She and I went to Provo on a business trip. I was helping with a leadership symposium at BYU and speaking to some of the women engineers on campus. Yes, I was still on maternity leave but a trip to Utah is not something to turn down lightly so I packed the baby up and grabbed a plane.

Oh, if it were so easy...traveling with an infant is definitely effort. Security lines are definitely not made for single mothers. Somehow I thought I would be able to push the baby, stroller and all, right through the line. After all, they couldn't expect me to carry a baby in one hand and all my stuff in the other. Wrong. The first trip through security was a learning experience. All the normal stuff: shoes off, laptop out of bag, water dumped, jacket off. Add: baby in one hand, car seat onto conveyor belt ("turn that seat over - it has to be upside down"), detach and remove everything from car seat, put down handle one handed, turn car seat over, fold up stroller ("put the stroller on conveyor belt...no...wheels up…no…take it off"), walk through metal detector, gather scattered stuff  repack, unfold stroller, get the starting-to-get-upset baby back in. About the time, they were telling me to take the stroller back off the conveyor belt a TSA person did come help me. Out of kindness as well as desperation I'm sure, as we were holding up the line.

By the next security line, I was much more practiced. Baby was in her wrap so I had two hands and I didn't even mess with the stroller. I let TSA do what they wanted with it.

The baby handled the plane pretty well. Mostly she just slept. Perfect. She woke up for the second flight and  smiled happily at everyone around, winning all of their hearts I'm sure (she won mine). Then she blew out her diaper in three directions so it was a good thing their hearts were won (and that they had five kids).

Mostly, many thanks go out to all of the wonderful people who saw my need and helped. I don't know how I would have done it without the good souls who folded/unfolded my stroller, helped me carry stuff off the plane, pulled my suitcase to the check-in line, and smiled at me. (I decided if anyone wants to steal suitcases in an airport, a lone mother is probably their best bet. However, they might not enjoy the diapers and assorted blankets and baby hats that they end up with).
In Utah, we got to see many important people (although not everyone that I wanted to see). Naomi met her Aunt Bethany, Aunt Rachel, Uncle Cory and cousins Marie, Anne, Samuel, Jocelyn and Calli. Calli and her are only four months apart.(pcture courtesy of Rachel)

She also met Uncle Ryan (or Uncle Lucky as he requested) and Aunt Cheristy and Great grandma and Great Uncle Maylon.

Many thanks to Rachel and Ryan and Cheristy for taking care of my baby while I worked.

Naomi Rose Pulsipher

I'm a mom now. It's weird to say or write but living it feels so natural...or maybe inevitable? It's what I've been working up to since I was like 5 years old and always answered "mom" when somebody asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Does that mean I'm "grown up"? Probably not. But I do have the cutest baby around. See.

Naomi Rose Pulsipher was born on January 20 at 9:34 am and weighed 6 pounds, 13 oz. Her official measure was 19.5 inches long but 3 days later she measured 20.75 inches. I don't really think she grew an inch and a quarter in a couple days but then what do I know about babies?

Birth Story:

I woke up at 4 am on Saturday, January 19th (10 days past my due date) to the discomfort of minor contractions occurring every 15-30 minutes. No more sleep for me.

The contractions continued throughout the day, but didn't seem to be escalating much. At one point, I even got a nap in. I wasn't quite sure what to do with my day since I didn't have any real plans and now my body was thinking about having a baby. So we took a walk to HEB and bought some chocolate (to eat after contractions), we went visiting/home teaching, and I tried to decide whether my mom should drive up to Austin or not. She ended up doing so which turned out to be a good thing.

By 7 pm, the contractions were much more regular (5-10 minutes apart) and getting more intense. At 9:30, we deemed them 5 minutes apart and went to the hospital. They admitted me and hooked me up to the monitors, but my contractions slowed down a bit and when they checked me I was only dilated to 3 cm, the same that I had been at my doctor's appointment on Thursday. All day labor...no progress...kind of depressing. 

I think my nurse thought I was a total wimp. All the other nurses I had in the hospital were great, but this one had some kind of bee in her bonnet. Around midnight, she told me that they were sending me home to sleep since I wasn't making any progress. They gave me a sleeping pill and home I went. We'll see you back on Monday for your induction, she said.

I got home, laid down in bed and within minutes I felt my water break. Time to go back to the hospital. They couldn't turn me away now and my contractions were increasing in intensity anyway. However, it was also the middle of the night and I hadn't slept much the previous two nights and I was on a sleeping pill. I don't really remember this part of the night very well, but I know I wasn't handling the pain very well.

Sometime after we got back to the hospital, the anesthesiologist came in to do the epidural. All I remember from that is the sting of initial needle and the weird sensation of cold fluid going up and down my back. As soon as the epidural kicked in, I slept.

In fact, I slept through the rest of my labor. They woke me up about 8:30 am the next morning and told me I was dilated to 10 cm and that it was almost time to push.

My mom told me they did a really good job of telling me how to push even though I couldn't feel very much.  I just know that it didn't seem to take long at all for her to be born. Seeing her head in the mirror definitely helped. The part that seemed long was when they took my baby away after I saw her briefly (she had a bowel movement before she was born so they needed to do some immediate clean-up). But then they brought her back and it was lovely.

Part of me feels kind of lame for sleeping through my labor, like maybe it was something important that I should have been there for and missed. Mostly, though, I think it was a medical miracle. It allowed me to get some rest so I could have the energy to care for Naomi after she arrived. My body seemed to manage labor perfectly fine without me there - the delivery was uncomplicated and so far recovery has been very smooth.

I am loving my sweet baby girl (those words get stuck together, don't they?) and loving the time I get to spend with her before going back to work.

Vivid Dreams

Pretty much every thing I've read has warned me that during pregnancy, I'll have vivid dreams. This has proven true, but then I always have vivid dreams. The biggest difference I notice is that I'll get halfway through a dream and remember that I'm pregnant and that I shouldn't be doing x,y, or z.

Also, I've had a number of dreams about the baby being born. There's three that I remember particularly well.

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Our baby girl has been born; Stephen and I are brand new parents. We want to go to the temple. We'll only be gone a few hours. The baby will be fine by herself, right?

The temple's not super far away but when I get there, it hits me that it's really not ok to leave a tiny newborn by herself. I drop Stephen off and turn around. Driving home takes me through old-time London-esque street corners with gas lamps and I have to get out to walk through an Indian bazaar. 

When I finally get home, Stephen and some of our friends are hanging out around the kitchen table drinking sparkling grape juice or something, having some sort of party. I'm mystified that he got home before me but start to get involved in the party when I remember why I came home.

What did I do with my baby girl?

Oh yeah. In the drawer. ??!! What was I thinking? I rush into the bedroom and pull her out of a drawer filled with white gauze. She's very unhappy but otherwise ok.

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I'm sitting in some kind of waiting area - lots of blue padded chairs and a receptionist sitting behind a bowl of candy.

My belly starts to jiggle and bounce. Baby's moving. The movement gets more and more forceful and my belly starts to give way, like play-dough. The baby keeps trying to dig her way out of my play-dough belly and I keep folding it back over her. I'm not ready for her to come out; I haven't even had the chance to call my doctor.

She wins; hands, head, and then feet erupt from my belly. She's an extremely large child, probably the size of a one-year-old. I immediately mourn for all the cute clothes folded in my bedroom that she will never be small enough to wear. I call my doctor to report the birth and she seems surprised but not too concerned.

At this point, I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming. I really want it to be a dream; I really want my baby to be able to wear the clothes I have for her. Plus, since when do babies start out the size of a one-year-old?

The dream continues. I take her home and she just keeps growing. Pretty soon, she's the size of a 3-year-old, talking in full sentences and arguing with whatever I tell her. Again, I'm thinking, "Please let this be a dream - this child shouldn't be able to be so bratty so quickly".

By the time I'm halfway through a shopping trip and am pulling  her out from behind a rack of winter coats trying to get her to let go of them, I've kind of given up on the idea that I'm dreaming. This life must be real...it just keeps going...

The shopping trip continues...

Finally, I wake up. A wave of relief floods over me. I knew it was a dream.

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I'm at my semiweekly doctors appointment. The doctor pulls the baby out of my belly (I don't remember how) to check to see if he's healthy (in this dream, the baby is a boy).

He seems quite healthy. I know I haven't carried him full term yet, but I just think, "why bother to put him back in, he seems like he's fine out here."

My doctor must have been sympathetic because I took  him home. My whole family and some friends were there and I was showing off my baby. 

As I was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, I start to feel him slip out of my arms. There's nothing I can do. My brother Ryan's sitting near me and I beg him to catch the baby. I watch him comprehend and then lunge for the baby but it's too late, the baby has hit the edge of the fireplace behind me.

I quickly pick up my child and rush back to the doctor. There's a huge gash across his back and my doctor immediately starts stitching it up. It has to be stitched up before she can put him back inside of me.

36 Weeks

I just take comfort in the fact that I can't possibly be a worse mom in real life than I am in my dreams.

Some Thoughts on Pregnancy

Well, we're hopefully nearing the time when blogging is easy and all I have to do is post pictures of my adorable child (hopefully she's adorable, what does one do if one has an ugly baby?)

In the meantime, there are pros and cons to being pregnant. Everyone expects me to be super ready to have the baby at this point (35 weeks). In a lot of ways, I am. I really want to meet her and hold her and cuddle her and dress her. However, another part of me is very aware that right now I don't have to worry about her being hungry or hot or overstimulated or understimulated or gassy or poopy...I think I'll enjoy the simplicity that life is offering me right now and enjoy the mothering when the time comes.

Meanwhile...a few observations about pregnancy
1) The hardest thing about flying (in an airplane) is reaching your stuff under the seat in front of you.
2) Engineers in Virginia are much more concerned for a pregnant woman's welfare then engineers in Utah. (In Virginia, I was asked if I had emergency contact info easily available on my phone; in Utah, I was given an Ironman mug and told about someone's wife who ran an Ironman while she was pregnant).
3) People often tell you how great you look in a sort of surprised voice. This might be offensive at other times in my life but right now I'm pretty surprised with them so I just really, really appreciate it.
4) But then, people also aren't afraid to tell you how huge you look. Especially Liberians. They keep telling me I'm huge all over and that my baby is going to be huge. Well, I now have official feedback for them. I'm kind of small - so small that my belly measurements really worried my doctor. She ordered an instant (well, there was a 3 1/2 minute delay) ultrasound at my appointment on Monday. The ultrasound showed a normal sized baby - 30th percentile. "You just carry really well," she said. I'm mostly just happy because I got an ultrasound out of it and my baby doesn't look like a skeleton anymore. Plus a really large belly would look particularly large on a 5'2" woman.

5) If a stranger says something to you, even if the only word you catch is "chickens", they're probably referring to your pregnancy.
6) I've heard people say this before, but it's true. When you're pregnant, pretty much anything that happens to your body is "normal". Your mole grows several millimeters and changes color...normal. Your blood pressure is super low one day and super high the next...normal. You regularly wake up with various appendages still fast asleep...very normal. You grow three heads....

35 Weeks: The left picture I think is indicative of how prepared I feel for motherhood.

 Our Christmas Tree - just because I love it :)

Stephen off to rock climb - just because he hasn't been getting nearly enough attention and he's so dang adorable...I mean handsome.