Tales from the Newborn Fog

MJ called this period the newborn fog and that's exactly what it's felt like. The last two weeks have been a big blur of feeding baby, changing baby, and watching baby sleep. Time really doesn't have much significance when you have a newborn. Which is not to say that the newborn fog is a bad thing. In fact, I've been enjoying it quite a bit. But I do look forward to finding a new normal and figuring out how to continue living my life with my daughter by my side.

Saying "my daughter" still sounds really strange to my ears. And thinking "I'm a mom" blows my mind.

Just a few observations:

-- Zara is adorable. She really, truly is the cutest baby on planet earth. I know all moms think this but I'm pretty sure it's true in my case. I can't believe I grew her inside of me and that I grew something so perfect. Even her little pouty face is cute.

-- Zara also happens to be a very calm and happy baby. She rarely cries except when she's really hungry or really needs a diaper change but I try really hard to anticipate her needs so she never reaches the stage of all-out wailing. She would sleep through the night if I let her. The pediatrician recommended that I don't let Zara go more than 4 hours without eating until she's a month old so I've continued to wake her up at least once during the night to eat a little and she generally falls asleep pretty quickly afterwards. When I wake her up in the morning, we snuggle in bed while she nurses and then fall asleep together for another hour or two. I love taking naps with my baby.

-- Zara is quite the little chomper when it comes to breastfeeding. Sometimes she takes to the breast with such enthusiatic zeal that I can't help laughing at her.

-- Suyom still doesn't know what to make of the baby. Sometimes she sits at the edge of the bed and just watches Zara sleeping in the pack n' play bassinet or she'll come sniff her head while I'm holding her and then promptly scurry away. I hope they become friends. Suyom is afraid of every other child she's met.


-- I also thought boys were the great perpetrators of peeing on their parents while changing their diapers but it turns out girls are just as bad. Zara seems to take great delight in waiting until David or I have removed her diaper and then peeing all over herself, the towel and us. She may not get quite as much leverage as a boy but she can still get us quite wet with her steady stream of urine.

-- I know they say that when newborn babies smile, it's because they're passing gas but I'm convinced that Zara smiles because she's happy. She smiles quite a bit and sometimes shows off her little dimples. They're not as deep as mine, but they're still there when she smiles real big. Aunt Cassy is overjoyed at having a niece with dimples.


-- The one thing I don't like is how fast Zara is growing and changing. Everyday I think she's just a little bit different and I can't quite remember how she was just a week ago. It really does go by way too quickly. I look forward to watching her grow (and having her do more than sleep, eat, and poop) but I can't help but already mourn for the brevity of this newborn period. She's so sweet and cuddly, especially when she slips into one of her milk comas and stays snuggled close to my chest. I want to savor it as much as possible.

-- Her favorite way to sleep is with both her arms out-stretched above her head. She hates having her arms tied down. Even when I swaddle her all nice and tight, she still manages to wriggle her little arms free.


-- One thing I do hope passes soon is my constant need to check that she's still breathing. I'll wake up several times during the night in a panic and I can't go back to sleep until I've seen her twitch or felt her pulse. I know I'll eventually get over that, but I know that I'll never stop worrying about her.

-- I'm obsessed with Zara's hair. I love its color and how much of it there is. I know it may fall out and there's a very good chance it's going to lighten and turn blonde (both David and I were very blonde as children) but I'm going to enjoy my little brunette baby as long as I can.


-- Zara hiccuped inside me all the time the last month of pregnancy and she's still a hiccuppy baby. She also sneezes quite a bit. Her record is 8 sneezes in a row.

Of course I wrote this glowing tale of the perfect baby last night before I went to bed and then Zara and I had one of our most miserable nights together. She woke me up around 1 a.m. to eat (which almost never happens) and then proceeded to spit up everything she ate, cry for more, poop and pee all over me and refuse to fall asleep. So after three hours, three costume changes (for both of us) and one impromtu sponge bath, Zara finally got back to sleep around 4 a.m. and slept until I woke her up at 7:30 a.m. Once she conks out for her afternoon nap, I'm going to grab a little bit to eat, put in yet another load of laundry, and take a much needed nap myself. It really is a good thing Zara is so dang cute.

Zara Hope

As most of you who read this blog know, I changed my name from Amanda to my middle name, Elizabeth, when I was nine. I was quite adamant that Amanda was not the right name for me and I begged my parents for a long time to let me change it. When we moved to Poway the summer between third and fourth grades, my parents consented to the name change and I started to introduce myself as Lizzie.

So when it came to thinking of a name for our baby, I felt no small amount of anxiety and trepediation. It's a big responsibility to name another human being and to pick the name that is right for them. I really wanted to find a name that had great meaning or that had a connection to our ancestry and a name that our child could be proud of. I didn't want to pick some uber trendy name or just some name that I happened to like. I needed to be able to tell my child exactly why they were named what they were and why I had chosen that name above all others.

In the early months of my pregnancy, I found the right name. For a boy. When David and I started talking about names, we discovered that we had both chosen the same name for a boy but we had no names for a girl. That, among many other significant experiences, had us convinced that we were going to have a boy. So it came as something as a shock when at our first ultrasound the technician guessed that we were going to have a girl. They couldn't quite tell since the baby's bum was turned toward us, her legs were closed and the umbilical cord was in between her legs. Since we got no clear view of the baby--and the guess was only that, a guess--it was easier for David and I to just think of our baby's gender as a mystery and wait until the baby's birth to know for sure. For the next two months, I was still convinced I was having a boy, but by the end of my pregnancy, I did start to feel that we were having a girl so it seemed like a good idea to start thinking of some girl names.

But we had nothing. Neither David nor I could think of any names that we really liked. We had a small list of names that were just okay, but nothing we were really sold on. One day, as I was reading in The Book of Mormon (I don't remember where, probably in Helaman or 3 Nephi) I came across several verses that talked about the city of Zarahemla. For Mormons, it's a recognizable name, but not so much for non-Mormons. As I was reading about Zarahemla, I thought, "Zarahemla.....Zara....I kind of like that name." Because of the way Zarahemla is pronounced, I say Zara like Sara or Kara with a "Z". Most people pronounce Zara like Car-a or Zar-a. I'm fine with either pronunciation.

I Googled the name Zara and discovered that it has Arabic roots and can mean shining, radiance, desert flower or princess; all meanings that I loved. Zara went to the top of our small list of potential girl names. In the last two weeks of my pregnancy (during the inducement dramas), I became more convinced that my baby was girl and that her name was Zara. I was pretty sold on the name before she was born and luckily, it was David's favorite name too. Shortly after she was born, both David and I decided that Zara would be her name.

The middle name, however, took a lot longer to decide on. We toyed around with the name Colleen, after David's mom (it's her middle name) or Mae, after my great-grandmother Leavitt (her name was Bertha Mae) but neither seemed to fit. I had also suggested names like Grace, Faith, Hope, and Charity because I love what they mean and I think we could use a little bit more of each of those virtues in our world.

David left the hospital late on the 31st to go home to feed Suyom and get some sleep. He called me when he got home and said, "Hope. I'm thinking maybe Hope should be her middle name. Let's think about it." The next morning, when David returned to the hospital, he once again suggested Hope as her middle name. "Our children are our hope for the future, after all," said David. And I couldn't agree more. And so her name became Zara Hope. Our radiant hope for the future and our little princess.

I like it. I hope she does too.

She's Here!!!

Introducing: Zara Hope Malone
Born: August 31, 2010
Time: 2:41 p.m.
Weight: 7 pounds, 10 ounces
Length: 20 inches


David and I went to sleep on the night of the 30th, anticipating an early morning wake-up call to head to the hospital to be induced. I was still apprehensive about how it would all go down (and how well I'd do laboring on Pitocin with no drugs) but mostly at peace with the whole situation since the baby seemed quite content to remain where she was and I was beyond ready for her to make her appearance. So imagine my surprise when I woke up at 1:30 a.m. in a puddle of amniotic fluid. I was not expecting my water to break (since only 10% of women actually have their waters break naturally) and I was not expecting for it to happen on its own. I woke up David and said, "I think my water just broke." David turned on the light and sure enough, there was a lake of water and more was pouring out. I asked David, "What do we do now?" I seriously had no idea what to do, I was in so much shock. David told me to call our doula, Tonya, who recommended that we shower, grab a little something to eat, and then head to the hospital, where she would meet us. While I showered, David cleaned up the mess I'd left in the bed (sorry honey!) and packed the car.

We arrived at the hospital a little before 3 a.m. and I was immediately admitted and taken into the labor and delivery room. (Luckily, I was the only woman who gave birth that day.) My contractions had started, but they were pretty mild at this point and were still about 5 minutes apart. (Normally, we would have waited to go to the hospital until I was further along, but the doctors wanted me to come in right away if my water broke.) I had to get hooked up the all the fetal monitors and had an IV started to get a dose of antibotics for Group B strep. Things seemed to be going well, although my contractions were not really rising in intensity or frequency. Tonya had me walk around (as much as I could) and do squats to help things progress. I really didn't feel too much pain at this point. In fact, getting my IV was the most annoying and painful part of the early labor.

One of the nurses--a Korean nurse who lacked something in bedside manners (mostly on account of her shaky English)--told us that the doctor wanted me to be given magnesium in the event that I had a seizure while in labor. We asked to talk to the doctors about this so around 7:30 ish, two of the doctors (Dr. Cundiff and Dr. DeVore) came into the room. Since I had been "diagnosed" with pre-eclampsia (a diagnosis which both David and I completely refute), the doctors wanted to take pre-emptive measures in case I should be one of the 1 in 500 women with pre-eclampsia who have seizures. When we learned a little bit more about the side effects of the magnesium (I wouldn't be allowed to stand up on account of the drowniess and diminished reflexes and I'd have to get a catheter), we opted to forego the magnesium because I didn't think it'd be a problem. (And it wasn't because there was nothing wrong with me in the first place.) However, the nurse had already gone ahead and started giving me IV fluids which is needed before starting the magnesium and that slowed my contractions down.

Dr. DeVore, who I wanted to deliver our baby, was scheduled to be in the WICU that day, but she had meetings and another doctor, Dr. Pickinpaugh, would be covering her until around 3 p.m. I'd never met the other doctor and she came in shortly after to introduce herself. She's 33 weeks pregnant with her first baby too. (I don't know why, but somehow it's always comforting when my female OB-GYNs have children of their own. I trust them more since they've been through pregnancy and labor too. Seems weird, since I certainly wouldn't expect my heart surgeon to have had open heart surgery themselves to feel that they'd do a good job.) They checked my cervix and I had only dilated to a 4, maybe a 5. I was shocked. I really thought I'd be further along by this point. I had been chanting in my head "You're getting big, you're getting big" during each contraction, but apparently, my contractions hadn't really been doing anything.

Around 10:30ish, Dr. Pickinpaugh suggested that I be put on a low dosage of Pitocin to help kick up the intensity of my contractions. I had really hoped to avoid Pitocin altogether since labor had started naturally, but I had been prepared for the possibility and so we consented to have them start me on a low dosage, which they did a little after 11 a.m. My contractions had started to get more intense by this point and the Pitocin certainly kicked it up a notch. I cried through a few contractions as they intensified, which only made them hurt more, but Tonya was finally able to get me to breathe through the contractions which helped to lessen the pain. I really was unprepared for what the contractions would feel like. The contractions of early labor felt more like menstrual cramps but these....well, unless you've been through labor, you know there's just no describing what it feels like. It didn't help that I felt most of the pain in my back and legs and couldn't get into a comfortable position. Your body is so hyper-aware of everything that's going on during labor. You're so intimately connected to your body and what it's doing but at the same time, it almost feels like you're having an out-of-body experience. That's the best way I can describe it.

I'd been on the Pitocin for about two hours when I started to seriously question my sanity. During each contraction, I would think to myself, "Okay, it's time for some drugs." But the contraction would pass and I'd feel okay for about a minute. When another contraction would come, I'd breathe my way through it as best as I could and think to myself, "Okay, just get through one more contraction and then we'll think about the drugs again." I was pretty sure I wasn't going to last much longer without some medicinical relief when my entire body convulsed and I said, "I think I need to push." The nurse came in to check me and sure enough, in two hours I'd dilated from a 4 to a 10 and was, indeed, ready to push. The nurses quickly got everything set up and the doctor was called in.

Pushing through the contractions actually felt really good. It still hurts, but it's a satisfying pain because you finally feel like you're getting somewhere. I do wish that I had been allowed to walk around or move into different positions because I think that may have helped speed up the pushing stage of labor. I pushed for about an hour just to get the baby's head to crown. Apparently, each time I'd push, a little bit more of Zara's head full of dark hair would show and when I'd stop, it'd retreat back but a little curl would still be showing. I was quite surprised how much time (about 2-3 minutes) lapsed between contractions. I'd push, and then sit there and talk to the doctor or try to get into a more comfortable position and then ready myself to push again.

After an hour had passed, I decided that I was done pushing and that I wanted the baby out of me right now. I pushed harder and harder (and I honestly probably pushed when I should have just rested) but I was desperate. The head finally started to crown and I said, "You guys weren't kidding about that ring of fire!" which made the doctor and the nurses laugh. After a few more deep pushes, the head finally emerged and the rest of Zara just slipped right out. David cut the umbilical cord and Zara was put on my chest. The nurses quickly cleared her passageways and wiped her off a bit and I attempted to breastfeed her while the doctor stitched me up.

I got a second-degree tear. I think I could have avoided tearing if I'd been more patient and not pushed quite so hard and long those last ten minutes but I really didn't care at that point. I'm just glad I avoided a fourth-degree tear. Those scare me. It took the doctor over an hour to stitch me up since she had to work very carefully around my Barothlin glands and repair some stretching to the surgery I'd had on those to prevent them from getting clogged. The best part was finally getting to eat the Snickers bar I'd packed to eat after the delivery. I was starving and that Snickers tasted glorious. I held Zara for about two hours before they took her to weigh her and give her a bath.

We were allowed to stay in the labor and delivery room for most of the day before they moved us into my own private room. I really lucked out since the other rooms are shared rooms. The first night was uneventful but the second night in the hospital was pretty rough. Zara did not want to calm down and I barely got any sleep. It didn't help that a big typhoon hit Korea that night and the power kept shutting down in the hospital. They eventually put the rooms on emergency-only power which meant that I couldn't move my bed out of the upright position. It wasn't so bad when I needed to nurse, but not so fun when I wanted to sleep. We finally made it through the night and after waiting awhile for the typhoon to completely pass, we were finally cleared to be discharged.


It's been so much nicer to be home, although I don't do much except feed Zara, change Zara's diapers, and try to get some sleep in between. I know it won't be like this forever and Zara really is a peaceful, contented baby most of the time. In fact, I'm the one that has to wake her up to feed. Otherwise, I think she'd just keep sleeping.

You go through nine months of pregnancy and so many hours of labor to finally get this thing, this child, who demands so much of your time, attention, and love. You're tired and in pain and life suddenly gets expotentially more complicated. There's this little person who is entirely dependent on you. You can't just run out to the grocery store or do whatever you want now. It's shocking to think how much your life has to change now but, in the end, you know it's totally worth it.

Zara was definitely worth it. And I still can't believe that she came out of me.