I realized that I never told you about baby E's birth. Well, that's a long story, but I do want to tell you about the MD who delivered baby E. Because yesterday I went to a new MD to establish care and that visit reminded me of his delivery.
For the majority of the time R was in labor, we only saw the nurses. I'm fairly certain this is common. Fortunately, the main nurse was also a CNM (certified nurse midwife). She was lovely. Very compassionate, not weird-acting at all. Our situation was (still is) uncommon and was, apparently, quite uncomfortable for many people, because lots of people acted super awkward throughout our stay. Not unkind, mind you, just awkward. They didn't know who to talk to, so often spoke only to one of us, ignoring the other. I certainly preferred that if they were only going to talk to one of us, that it be R, since, you know, she was the one having the baby and all. But it didn't always work that way.
Also, E was born, you may remember Sept 25th. August is when teaching hospitals get new batches of brand-spanking new residents. Typically, they're called interns their first year of residency. I don't know why. And, generally speaking, August and September have the highest mortality rates in teaching hospitals. I'll leave it to you to put two and two together on that one.
So, it was time for R to deliver this baby. She asked me to remain in the delivery room. Her mom was also there (on the phone with a friend of hers, who she put on speaker phone; this was super annoying to all of us in attendance). Hubby and the agency case worker are in the waiting room. In come a group of people. At the time, I had no idea who they were. I now, after working in this same hospital, realize they were the team of residents, sans their attending (as is typical).
The resident who apparently drew straws to delivery baby E looked like she was about 16 (she was probably about 26), and about to vomit. She stood in the middle of the room looking around like a little kid in a crowd who has just realized she's lost her mommy. The nurse said, "it's time". The resident then took on the look of a deer in the headlights. She was just that still, too. This was about the moment I started to get a little concerned. But I was then distracted by the yelling on the speaker phone of R's mom's friend ("push, baby girl, push"; never mind it wasn't time to push).
The nurse finally had to grab the resident by the arm and tell her to focus and get dressed (gown, gloves, etc...). I think the nurse had had enough of the resident's stupidity, because she then just about put the shoe cover things on the resident because she was (still) standing there about-to-pee-herself scared.
Essentially, the resident did nothing but stand at the end of the bed and catch E. (Though I suppose that's kind of the MD's job in an uncomplicated delivery) R did all the work, with a lot of direction from the nurse and a bit of support from me. I swear, I saw the resident shaking she was so freaked out.
I didn't see her again until 2 days later.
A girl I worked with at the time was in labor the room next to the one E was born in. I went over to see her. And in the room was the resident. She looked at me in shock. I smiled and explained that the mama-to-be, in this case, was my friend and I had no intentions of parenting her baby. I don't think she believed me. I think she thought I was soliciting for all the babies.
Cue yesterday, at my MD appointment. It was a new MD, because, well, the last one wasn't a pleasant experience. Now, I went to this particular practice when I was a kid, really, until about 8yrs ago, when I had bad experiences with the residents two visits in a row that completely turned me off of ever going back. But, this practice is now a 60sec walk from my office (one floor up and just down the hall), and I'd heard great things about Dr V. And I was definitely in the market for a new MD.
First, a medical student walks in. Now, I'd told them when I scheduled the appointment that I would not be seeing any residents or students. They said that wasn't a problem. So I wasn't thrilled to see him in the first place. Then he acted like I'd just kicked his puppy or his grandmother when I told him that I wouldn't be seeing him. He was all, "but normally I don't even tell people I'm a student because I don't want them to be able to refuse to see me". And I was all, "uh, I think you have to tell people you're a student in case they want to refuse to see you. And the fact that you're about 11yo makes it obvious, dude". And he was all, "look how charming I am? You know you want to talk to me". And I was all, "you're not charming. I don't want to see you". And he was all, "I'll make a pouty face and then you'll see me". And I was all, "Get the eff out".
So, finally, Dr V comes in. And we briefly talk about why I'm there ("What? Periods every 21 days? that sucks. Do you want a flu shot?" "Uh, yeah it sucks. I don't want your flu shot"). She asks how old the boys are. I tell her. She asks whether either of them were born at this hospital. I tell her E was. She asks when. I tell her. She tells me she remembers in her very first month on OB there was an adoptive mom who was going to breastfeed and that I look familiar and she's pretty sure she delivered E. facepalm She is the nervous resident who had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
1. This makes me fell very old.
2. This does not make me fell much better about my visit with her as she's only been done with residency for a year.
3. I remembered that shortly after E was born, I happened to overhear the nurses talking about what a clueless incompetent idiot they thought she was.
4. I have to remind myself that it would probably not endear me to her were I to tell her what a bumbling idiot I - and the nurses - thought she was. Also, it just wouldn't be nice.
5. Damn, it's a small world.
Today's Lesson: I don't have great luck with doctors. I just don't.
Friday, October 17, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
Well, E just turned 4. He had an art birthday that turned out really well. He and his friends had a great time and it wasn't nearly as stressful to plan and decorate as the Lorax birthday last year.
E on a recent camping trip. He still doesn't sleep great, but it's gotten so much better. We upgraded to a popup camper this summer and that seems to have helped.
This time last year I was afraid E wasn't talking as much as he should so we had a Speech eval done (he was borderline low/average). This is amusing to me now because he - like his brother - never.stops.talking. Ever. And he is funny. I mean, funny. He delivers the funny so seriously, which makes it even funnier. He's still an introvert, but he is much more out of his shell than he used to be. Just don't (as a stranger) come bopping up to him and expect him to talk to you. He won't. And he may scowl.
I love this kid.
E's in preschool full time this year and loves it. (Last year was 3 days/week.) We love it, too, as long as he takes a nap there. The days he doesn't, it seems to throw him into a several day tailspin and it takes some serious doing to get him back to normal. We occasionally still have to use melatonin. We're undecided about whether he'll start kindergarten next year. Technically, he could as his birthday is just before the cutoff. But I'm just not sure whether it's the best thing for him. Fortunately, we have loads of time to decide.
What else... he's still doing gymnastics and (most days) liking it. He is really strong and has some guns that hubby is jealous of. He hasn't shown any particular interest in doing any other sport or activity, so I suppose we'll keep with gymnastics for now.
The cuteness. I just can't handle the cuteness. This kid, I mean, he is just really my heart. I am blessed beyond reason by him.
Today's Lesson: Sometimes we get what we ask for. Sometimes we get what we need. Sometimes we get both. This child is my both. How could I ask for more?
Friday, October 10, 2014
Oh my kid. Where to start...
Well, it's fall. And that means behavior issues. Go ahead, look back over the posts from last few falls and you'll see a pattern. Allergy and asthma season is upon us. The pediatrician laughed because we've been to see her every year for the last 3 years within 5 days of the same day for the same reason. We actually went to the allergist several months ago and apparently he's just allergic to the whole state. Which is awesome. She recommended allergy shots, twice a week for at least a year. It took all I had not to belly laugh at her. Anyone else remember how he lost his mind with his flu shot last year? No? Just me? Well, suffice to say allergy shots will not be happening. Neither will the flu shot. So, yeah, we're giving mass amounts of medicines (allergy and asthma), which I KNOW isn't good for him either. But we're at a loss as to what else to do.
School, the teacher this year (3rd grade), well, she just seems lovely. And I'm so grateful. So (SO!!!!!) grateful. I met with her earlier this week and she had noticed (because, well, anyone would) that he's a bit distractable. I assured her it will get better once allergy season is over (s'rsly, someone, please, KILL ALL THE RAGWEED!!!). Until then, she suggested we try a behavior modification plan with rewards - and appropriate ones at that! - for staying focused. So, far that seems to be helping.
We've also hired a tutor to help. He started with her over the summer and will continue for the foreseeable future. She actually a former 3rd grade teacher with a master's in social work who's staying home with her littles right now. She's kind of awesome.
Look how huge he's gotten. I mean, I'm totally slumped down some here, but still. He's probably 5ft now and 80lbs. He's probably the chubbiest he's ever been. Not that it's due to lack of movement. Because, right now he's doing gymnastics, soccer, and tennis (each once/week, and two of those are at school, so don't involve us driving him all over, 'cause that's just not going to happen). He's still awfully muscular. I'm anticipating another growth spurt sometime soon.
Also, I love that he can read to me now. Of course, he'd still rather have me read to him, but we're striking a balance pretty well most days.
I struggle in my relationship with my kid. I love him. I mean, in the tips of my toes, in my brain, in my heart, in the core of my being love him. But I struggle. I'm not sure whether it's because we're so alike (quit talking to other kids all day and do your school work!!), or because we're so different (what, you don't like to read? How can you not like to read??!!). I want to be the positive-reinforcing, calming, infinitely patient mother he needs. I'm not. I'm just not. But I struggle. Sometimes it feels like every moment with him is a struggle. Not a struggle with him, mind you, a struggle within myself, to be with him how he needs and deserves so he can be the awesome kid I know he is. Struggle.
I was reading over some old posts and came across several mentions of sneakiness. And I realized that thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou this phase has passed. I can't express my gratitude enough that 1. we're done with that, and 2. to have realized that we're done with that. I needed that reminder today.
My kid, he really is amazing. He's so helpful and empathetic and positive. I don't know where this happy-go-lucky-good attitude came from. But I'm so grateful for it. And, truth be told, I'm terrified that we'll screw up this parenting thing so magnificently that he'll lose it along the way.
He's artistic and we're desperately hoping that he'll get into the creative and performing arts school for next year. It's a once you're in, you're in until you decide to leave or graduate high school kind of thing. We think it'll be a wonderful fit for him. I know he's not the most artistically gifted kid they've ever seen, but I'm desperately hoping they'll see the potential in him.
What else... gah, I don't know. This is already kind of a lot, isn't it? And now you see why I had to do separate posts on my boys.
Today's Lesson: While it does none of us any good to live in the past, looking back can sometimes remind us of how far we've come. And, as parents, can remind us on the bad days of how far our children have come.
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
I still haven't found my voice, or even found what it is I *want* to say. But I've been feeling called by this blog, called to this blog, the last few weeks. So, perhaps I'll give you an update of sorts. In bullets, because, well, I want to. And certainly nothing brilliant. I'm a bit rusty after all.
- When I came here today to, well, idk what, I realized that the template had disappeared. Perhaps that happened a long time ago and I hadn't noticed. No idea. So, here's a new one. I feel like I lost stuff in the transition, but, to be honest, I haven't the interest in locating it at the moment. But this is at least better, right?
- I've noticed that many (many!) of the blogs that were my favorites have disappeared as well. Where have you all gone? And why? It's interesting that so many of us seemed to stop all around the same time. I had been following along intermittently but every time I check, it seems more and more spaces are quiet.
- My "new" job (been here about 10 months) has certainly afforded me a more regular schedule. It's also boring most days. I'm trying to be grateful that I'm no longer daily inundated with horrible abused kids and mentally ill homeless adults. And perhaps it means there's something wrong with me, but I miss that. Perhaps it's that I feel like I was actually making a difference with those populations. Perhaps I'm actually an adrenaline junkie. Either which way, I'm trying to be grateful for the good parts (regular schedule! office with door! seeing children every day!). Some days that's easier than others.
- I hear some interesting comments and conversations outside my office doors. Occasionally one will be Cubicle Chronicles worthy. I should start jotting them down til I have enough for an actual post. You know, if I start posting again regularly. Which I don't know if I will.
- Hubby... honestly, I think he's depressed. And this is the first time I've said it "out loud". I thought so as well after his mom died and convinced him to see a therapist. He went 2-3 times and stopped. Things got somewhat better for awhile. But for the last year or so, he's not been... well. I feel irritated and angry with him much of the time. Mostly because he is irritated and angry with the boys much of the time. And he doesn't see that and gets super defensive. And it's a big nasty cycle. So it's great. It is what it is right now. Until one of us decides to do something about it. And I wish I knew which of us it would be, or even what "it" is. Probably it should be me, because, you know, depression and all. But, yeah, that hasn't happened. I suppose this is one of the "things" I didn't really want the people in my actual life to read. But, fuck, I supposed I needed to say it somewhere.
- The boys... well, I started writing updates on them and then ended up with too much. So, apparently, I've decided to do a post one each of them. Yes. That surprises me as well. Perhaps those posts will even be published.
- Doesn't this sound bright and shiny and happy? Aren't you glad I haven't been writing this kind of crap all the time? We should just consider my absence as a gift to you. You're welcome. There's lots more fun like this, but I'll spare you now. Really, you're welcome.
Today's Lesson: Sometimes we all just fumble around in the dark not knowing what the damn lesson is supposed to be. Surely, at some point, a light will appear somewhere and offer some clarity. Surely.