What to Pack for the Hospital When You’re Having a Baby, Revisited

February 22, 2012 at 8:28 am , by Berit Thorkelson

I thought it would be helpful to revisit my hospital packing list now that I’ve done gone and had my baby to let prospective packers know what I used, what I didn’t use and what I forgot. The list below is copied directly from my earlier post on packing your bag for the hospital when having a baby. I’ll put notes in bold. (If I don’t make a note, assume I brought and used the item.) It’s probably worth noting that I had a natural birth. It seems my list caters somewhat to that method/mindset.

To pack ahead of time:

• Copies of birth plan (in case they don’t have the copy my doc sent over ready and waiting) Wasn’t necessary—they had it waiting.
• List of phone #s to call (even if Clint can remember the list of five people now, he may not have his wits about him when the time comes, due to sleeplessness and baby excitement)
• Notebook (Birthing thoughts? Final baby-name narrowing down? Returning home to-do list? You never know.) Did not use this time. (Did last time.)
• Birthing skirt/2 tanks/zipper sweatshirt (aka stuff to labor in that allows me to regulate my temperature and allows the hospital staff to access my lady region. An extra tank in case I want to wear one into the birthing tub.) The tank tops, especially, were lifesavers. I did not wear a hospital gown the entire visit.
• Two pair nonslip comfy throwaway socks (For labor. There will likely be dripping. Gross, I know.) I only needed one.
• Nursing bras. Oh my yes.
• Bella bands (Nice to pair with nursing bras, for the discreet & ladylike, such as myself.) Did not use. Guess I’m not as ladylike as I imagined.
• Breast pads (In case my milk comes in. Oh, the leakage.) Used, but not for leakage (my milk came in soon after returning home) but to prevent lanolin (see below) stains on my new nursing bras.
• Lanolin (At first, your nipples hurt. A whole lot. Lanolin helps.)
• Lotion
• Arnica (My awesome friend Laura, a homeopath/pharmacist, recommends 200C post-delivery, and again 12 hours later, to promote overall healing.)
• Ponytail holders
• iPod/speakers (I prefer silence to birthing tunes, but we have HypnoBirthing scripts and affirmations on there.)
• Breastfeeding-friendly PJs/hangout wear (Better than a hospital gown. You’ll probably want options that allow easy access to Down There and/or your post c-section tummy. Make it something you won’t mind being photographed in.) A short, comfy cotton robe was the key piece here‚ easy to nurse in, but also easy to cover up with. Also: Maternity yoga pants.
• Pantry snacks that may be tolerable during labor, such as electrolyte jelly beans, granola bars (sprung for fancy raw Pashen bars for the occasion), nuts, emergenC (Keep that energy up!) So nice to have some can’t miss snacks on hand for both during and after labor. These things, plus drinkable yogurt, aged Gouda, bananas, clementines, and my favorite teas, kept me happy without having to rely on the hospital kitchen’s offerings and hours.
• Have cooler ready Didn’t bring. Got everything into the hospital refridge immediately upon arrival.
• Present for Roy (From the baby. So when they meet, she has it ready for him.) Yes. See shark washcloths above. A hit!
• Cash For hospital cafeteria for Clint.

For baby:

• A few sleepers (Those long gowns with the elastic at the bottom, to make frequent changes easier. Might as well have her wear her own clothes, washed in our detergent, from the get-go.) The gowns were too big. Should have brought newborn-sized footie PJs.
• Socks & hats
• Blanket A must.
• Super cute going-home outfit
• Car seat with BundleMe (Essential for a winter baby in Minnesota—no bulky, hard-to-regulate snowsuit necessary.)
• Baby book (Get those footprints!) Yes! Cute little tootsies.
• Boppy, or other breastfeeding pillow (Might as well start in the manner you intend to continue.) Yes! Do it.

To pack the last minute:

(Again, a list containing even the obvious is nice. It’s hard to make decisions while in labor.)

• Laptop
• Camera (batteries, charger)
• Phones & chargers
• Makeup bag
• Lip balm
• Toothbrush/paste
• Deodorant
• Vitamins & allergy medication
• Hair products
• Brush
• Hair dryer Didn’t need—the hospital had one.
• Slippers
• Pillows Yes!
• Stock cooler (ice, drinkable yogurt, hard cheese, fruit)
• 12-pack fizzy water (It’s my jam.) Yes.
• HypnoBirthing scripts (On paper. For Clint to potentially read to me.) We did not read these.
• Towel to sit on in car (if my water hasn’t broken)
• Wallets/insurance card/ids
• Calendar (I’ve not yet gone electronic on this. Rockin’ it old skool style.)
• Glasses

 For Clint:

(Just a loose reminder list for him…)

• Food (If he’s gonna support me, he needs to maintain energy as well.) He brought leftovers and sandwich necessities.
• PJs (The hospital is not the place for underwear-only sleeping.)
• Toiletries
• Camp mat (To make a crappy hospital sofa more bearable.) Did not bring.
• Blanket (See above.)

POST-STAY ADDITIONS:

• Commenter Darcie suggested my own special baby wash, which was an awesome addition.
• I would’ve appreciated my own soap, shampoo and conditioner. The hospital stuff is so… hospitaly.
• We had someone bring in our Netflix DVDs. We were unexpectedly in the mood to keep tabs on Nurse Jackie.

All in all, I think I did an OK job—enough to keep myself comfortable, not too many extras, and not too many “I wish I would’ves.” Hope this helps you do the same.

 

How I Picked My Baby’s Name

February 21, 2012 at 2:51 pm , by Berit Thorkelson

Choosing our new daughter’s name was much easier than choosing our son’s. With him, we arrived at the hospital with a notebook full of name possibilities. Between contractions, we took turns crossing them off. After bearing witness to a 30-some hour labor, Clint granted me the privilege of making the final decision. Even so, we were dangerously close to leaving the hospital with Unnamed Baby Buckner. I selected Royal—Roy—from among our whittled-down list of contenders simply because something about it just felt right. Or rather, more right than any other option.

But with our now two-week-old (!?), things came more easily. Her middle name was non-negotiable. Loraine. Loraine is my grandmother’s middle name; the name she goes by because she doesn’t like her actual first name. She’s the kids’ only living great-grandparent and an amazing woman. The best. The bonus that sealed the deal? It happened to be my other fabulous grandmother’s middle name as well. Easy.

We started searching for a first name a few months into the pregnancy, and stumbled upon Vera in a baby-name book. It was one of the few names we instantly agreed upon. We liked that it was classic, but not overly popular (yet—fingers crossed), and short. And that it started with a V, such a cool consonant. And we also dug how it sounded with Loraine, and with Roy. (FYI, we were already enamored with it when my fellow Parents.com blogger Paula, of In Name Only, posted a little help looking for a name, and one commenter, Amy, suggested Vera. Right on, Amy!) We stayed open, continuing to look until the very end, but we never found another name we liked better. In fact, the longer I sat with it, the more I liked it. Vera Loraine Buckner.

When I called Grandma T. to tell her of Vera’s arrival, I said, “Her middle name is Loraine, with one R.”

Grandma said, “I’m glad she spells it right.”

How’d you decide upon your kid’s name?

 

We Have Baby Photos. And Tears. Lots of Tears.

February 13, 2012 at 11:41 am , by Berit Thorkelson

Here’s what was going on over here exactly one week ago today:

also, this:

And this:

And a whole lot of this:

Pretty incredible.

The birth went pretty much as I’d hoped. Difficult, as childbirth tends to be, but smooth and relatively quick. Relatively. Full report to come. The hospital stay was pretty relaxing, too.

And then we came home. My milk came in, turning my boobs into two large, painful boulders, ready to burst at any moment. My nipples burned from all the newborn mini-mouth action. And Roy threw up. Then he threw up again. And again. It was awful.

Settling in at home with a newborn is difficult. Beautifully disorienting and amazing and wonderul and difficult. Settling in at home with a newborn and a confused toddler with the stomach flu is much more difficult. You want to comfort him. You need to. But there’s a baby in your arms. A baby with a delicate immune system. You can’t do both. It’s heartbreaking. Plus, there’s all that puke to clean up.

Looking back, the last week can well be defined by all the moments that brought tears to my eyes. Here is an incomplete list:

* In the early morning hours, my contractions are gaining momentum and intensity. I’m packing the last few items in my bag between them. Upstairs, Roy is stirring in his crib. We are about to take him to daycare and then head in to the hospital. I start weeping uncontrollably. Our girl is finally on her way.

* I’ve been in hard labor for long enough that I want it to stop. Want to call the whole thing off. Seriously. My doula has convinced me to ride a few contractions out in the tub and see where that gets us. They pick up, rip though me, becoming just short of impossibly, literally, un-fucking-bearable. Only between contractions does my body have enough extra energy to whimper-cry.

* I take a warm bath a few hours post-birth. Clint is in the adjoining hospital room, holding our second child, a mere hour old. I’ve birthed her. I’m no longer pregnant. We did it. We are a family of four. I cry in pure disbelief and happiness.

* Roy bursts into the room, throwing the cloth hospital curtain back dramatically and grinning wide. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says “I’m the Big Brother.” He sits on the bed next to me and peeks skeptically at Vera, his sister, for the first time. Of course the tears come.

* The second night Roy visits us in the hospital, he wants us to come home with him. Doesn’t understand why the three of us stay and he has to go home. He sobs like he’s never sobbed before, repeating, “Mommy, Daddy, Mommy, Daddy.” Again, he sits next to me in the hospital bed. I hug him and whisper that we will come home tomorrow, I promise, and that we’ll all be together and that I love him forever and ever. He calms down but is clearly not OK. It breaks my heart in two.

* We finally get home. During Vera’s inaugural diaper change, she screams so hard it’s silent. Roy positions himself at her head and pats her fuzzy bird hair softly, repeating, “It’s OK, Vera. It’s OK.” Sob.

* Roy just puked. As Clint is cleaning him up, I hold Vera and watch as his toddler lip quivers, shiny bright pink against his pale skin. He looks at me directly, his big blue eyes broadcasting pure confusion and pain. I want to hold my baby, Roy, like I used to. I want things to be as they were. I wonder what we’ve done—and how we’re ever going to do it.

* Clint draws warm baths for me twice a day. The morning ones are especially lovely. I am all alone, soaking my recovering body and needy breasts in lavender salts. Vera is clean and fed and downstairs, in Clint’s arms. I can hear Roy’s toddler squeals and pajama feet padding the floorboards. I relax down into the water and quietly cry over how incredibly lucky I am.

Overall, we’re getting there. Roy’s back on regular food and hasn’t puked in a couple of days. Clint is a patient and clearly proud father of two. My milk is totally in and the pressure and pain are mellowing. Despite the crying jags, which are to be expected, I’m functioning and healing fairly well. And Vera has been a rock star. Mellow. A fabulous eater. A darn good sleeper and pooper. We truly can’t get enough of her and love her like crazy.

That’s it for now. I’ll re-emerge with another update when I’m able.

Our Little Girl Has Arrived!

February 7, 2012 at 11:20 am , by Berit Thorkelson

No more Tummywatch Tuesday! Baby girl finally decided to join us.

After 41 weeks and one day, she’s here: Vera Loraine Buckner, weighing 7 pounds and 2 ounces and measuring 21 inches long. Both of us are doing fine. Dad and big brother are as proud as can be.

Labor was about 11 hours from first contraction until finish—starting at about 1 AM Monday morning and ending with her grand entrance at 11:42 AM, 2/6/12.

OK, back to babyland and its marathon feeding, sleeping and snugging sessions. I’ll re-emerge again ASAP with photos and the birth story. Promise.

Also: Thanks for joining us on this crazy journey into expanded parenthood. Sincerely. We’re feeling incredibly happy, grateful and blessed.

 

 

 

Overdue Update

February 4, 2012 at 3:01 pm , by Berit Thorkelson

I’m almost a week overdue now. Physically, no big deal. Moving slowly. Getting footrubs. Could be worse.

Mentally, I’m a little less at ease. I want to meet this little girl. I want to get on with it.

First thing yesterday morning, we had an appointment at the hospital to make sure all’s going well in there. Actually, they call it a “health campus.” It’s on a nature preserve. There are works of art and fireplaces everywhere and free valet service upon entering. Sometimes, there’s a musician playing the grand piano in the central hangout space near the lobby. The maternity unit’s rooms are relatively hotellike, with giant tubs for laboring and any necessary birth equipment hidden under discreet panels until there’s need for them. During your stay, roving volunteer aromatherapists, acupuncturists and masseuses stop by to offer their services. It just happens to be one of the nearby hospitals at which my doctor delivers. Lucky.

So, anyway, the ultrasound was first. The tech measured amniotic fluid and the baby’s heart rate, both of which were just fine. Then she looked for eight specific fetal movements, all of which she documented in a timely manner. She wanted to take a snapshot for us, but couldn’t get one of the little girl’s face since it’s so far down into position. Which has to be a good thing. We got a cute little foot-shot instead.

Next step: A nonstress test. For this, they circle two long elastic belts around your tummy to hold two discs in place to monitor fetal heartrate, as well as potential contractions, for 20 minutes or so. The first time I had one of these with Roy, they didn’t tell me that ideally, the baby’s heart rate will climb and then drop again quite a bit. So I sat there watching the number stay comfortably in the 130s awhile, then nearly had a heart attack when it skyrocketed up into the 170s. It soon made its way back down to the 130s. Relief. But then it started climbing again, and I was positive I was moments away from being rushed to the emergency room for an immediate c-section to pluck this overdue and overly stressed baby from my womb. Thank god a nurse came in to check on me and explained that those peaks were good. Exactly what they wanted.

So this time, I rested easy as my little girl’s heart rate spiked and evened, spiked and evened. All was just fine. Apparently, I had a couple of contractions, too, but I didn’t really feel them, so… whatever. Nothing to get too excited about.

Bottom line: No reason to speed things up, as the kid’s perfectly happy in there. Maybe a titch too happy. Wish I could flip on the lights and turn the heat down just enough for her to think that maybe it’s time to see what things are like elsewhere. As in outside of my body.

The waiting game continues.