Woody Cavenaugh

Baby was born on Tuesday, it is Sunday. Baby is five days old.

They say that having a new baby means that you won't sleep. I think we have established that this is true, now I want to qualify it further. The first couple of days the baby sleeps but in cycles so quick that no mortal man can keep up. As time goes on, the baby falls in to a pattern that your doctors told you to create. First two weeks baby gets fed every three hours. This means that every three hours you don't sleep for an hour or so while you negotiate feeding and diapering. You are getting sleep, just not in the pattern that you've set up for yourself since the end of your first twelve weeks. I'm having trouble adjusting.

My wife on the other hand seems to operate at some kind of higher plane of consciousness than I can. She seems to be at the same level of wakefulness all the time while in my case, I find myself wandering the isles of the grocery store trying to find the spark plugs. I typically don't need spark plugs when I go to the grocery store but I absolutely HAVE to know where they are. I even dream about it, or at least I think I'm dreaming. Am I a new dad or is this Davey Jone's Locker?

I rediscovered caffeine today. Glorious stuff. I was in the grocery store looking for the spark plugs again when my eyes happened to land on a can of Starbucks. I'm not quiet sure what the product was, but it was cold, wet, and had the picture on it that told me daddy likey. Who can argue with that?

Sometimes I find myself looking down at this perfect little face and I think "There is no possible way that something that cute could be the fruit of my loins." Then she farts with such force that the diaper is ejected right off her hind quarters. Yep, that's my girl. Her mom's good looks, all my special powers.

I can't remember if it was before or after Fiona was born but the news was on the TV in the hospital and there was some commotion about a dark skinned doll who came with a toy monkey and wore a hat that said "lil monkey". It was very cute but some folks said you can't do that because dark skinned children aren't allowed to play with monkeys or some non-sense. I think these people need a constructive hobby. I haven't seen any toys that I would be offended to give to my little cracker. Except maybe the breast feeding one. I'm a little on the fence on a doll that makes sucky sounds when its head gets next to one of the little plastic flowers on the chest of the halter top that the child wears.

While in the store I saw a couple with a baby in a car seat riding in the shopping cart. It looked like the seat would almost latch to the cart, so I asked them if what I was seeing was true. They said that no, the car seats don't seem to mount smoothly to any shopping cart, but some were worst than others. Someone could make a whole pile of money if they would create a shopping cart that a infant car seat was designed to lock into. I'd change stores to shop at the ones that did.

Giraffes. I just realized that there is no damned way that I am going to let any child of mine play with a long necked herbivore. How dare the even imply it? There should be a law!!!

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 6:26 PM | Permalink

A friend of mine we'll call Eric, becaue that's his name gave some parenting advice that was both sage and well timed. He said, "Sleep when the baby sleeps". The advice is simple, and true. I have a couple of other friends, we'll call them Ike and Rob who both gave the following tidbit. "You will not sleep for two weeks." Simple, but as advice goes not filled with hope. I quickly realized that these two pieces of advice could not exist in the same reality and since babies spend most of their time sleeping, then it was Eric who had the right of it, and Rob and Ike who were just pulling the n00b dad's leg.

As it happens, ERIC IS FULL OF SHIT!!!

Babies sleep most of the time. Fact. Also fact, they do this sleeping in one second on one second off bursts. To try to sleep like a baby would require mind altering drugs and electrocution. Neither of these things do I have. Thus Ike and Rob have the right of it. If I knew what day it was I could know how much longer I would be living in the sleepless zone. Now to be fair, I am allowed to take naps. Naps are good, I'll drop down for a couple of hours and later will cover for her between feedings. This always ends in disaster, as lets face it, sometimes you need daddy and you need him RIGHT NOW!!!!!! I'm starting to fear sleep...

Kidding aside, it is fun and easy to play off of the characterature of the sleepless new dad. Heck, I can knock new dad jokes out of the park and I have slept since the morning of the first contraction.

The strait truth of it is that this is a rewarding gig that I would highly recommend to anyone that hasn't tried it yet. There's a certain joy from walkng around in cloths that smell like your offspring. And in case you weren't aware its called "baby powder" because that is what babies smell like. Pretty crazy.

I could go on about the day and how things are going, but lets face it, I'm informed its none of your business and you wouldn't want to hear about it anyway. Plus, if you haven't spawned yet, I'd hate to spoil it for you.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 8:21 PM | Permalink

This morning, Sara got her first shower in a couple of days, it was a joyous occasion though it was also the first time I was to be left alone with Fiona. Everything was going fine, in fact I think I was editing the last blog entry when she got the hick-ups and started fussing. Dad Man to the rescue! I swoop in, and just inches from actually touching her the horrible truth emerged that I didn't have a clue in the world as to what I should be doing. Panic followed truth and I went quickly through all the fight or flight responses I had in my repitore, After what seemed like an eternity I chose "touch her reassuringly" and "sing her a song". Hoping to make up for lost time my mind seized the first song I could think of.

It was The Ballad of Captain Robert, by Abney Park. I'm putting the lyrics below and hope they don't mind me doing it. It was after all, Fiona's very first lullaby.

Captain Robert took his men
And flew to Prague and back again
Some fell off, some dropped dead
And some put bullets through their head

A skeleton crew is what came back
And once in port he filled his sack
With bribes in cash and fame and coin
Things to make a new crew join

Captain Robert took his crew
To Shangri-la and Timbuktu
Some went crazy, some got mad
Some they kicked off ship in Chad

A skeleton crew is what came back
Who lived through mutiny, plague and flak
Strong and calloused, brave and tired
All those who could stay inspired

Captain Robert took his ship
To Beijing and to Mozambique
Stir crazy so in irons he clapped them
One of them tried to kiss the captain

Captain Robert looked at his crew
And saw that everyone was new
The crew got broke through misadventure
No-one could take another gut wrencher

A skeleton crew is what came back
Who lived through mutiny, plague and flak
Strong and calloused, brave and tired
All those who could stay inspired

A skeleton crew is what came back
And once in port he filled his sack
With bribes in cash and fame and coin
Things to make a new crew join

Captain Robert took his crew
To Shangri-la and Timbuktu
Some went crazy, some got mad
Some they kicked off ship in Chad

After the first verse the "WTF" look on her little face was replaced by "Hey, this is kinda nice". I know she's going to give me the "WTF" look for the rest of my life, and I will always cherish this memory of turning it into something pleasant for her. Likely I will never let her forget it.

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 9:47 AM | Permalink

1am August 11th
There is a whole hierarchy for how people want their deliveries to go. First choice would be to have the baby delivered by two angels hand picked by the all mighty himself. Second would be to deliver in a pool midwifed by a pod of dolphins. From there it goes to:
At home with in a big tub with a midwife
At home with a midwife
In a birthing center with a midwife
In a birthing center with a doctor
In a women's hospital
In a hospital
At the zoo by a zoo keeper
At the zoo by the animals
At your senior prom in the bathroom
At your best friend's wedding in the bathroom
At your wedding in the bathroom
In the car on the way to the hospital
In a cab delivered by the cabbie
In a bus delivered by the bus driver
On the subway delivered by a homeless schizophrenic
Under an overpass by a hobo camp
Anywhere Using Pitocine
Anywhere By scheduled C section
Anywhere By emergency C section

6am It was a long night, I slept between her contractions, she didn't sleep at all because of her contractions and a bed designed during the Inquisition by Torquamata himself. It was one of those adjustable beds remarkable in the fact that every position it was capable of getting into was more painful than the last. So she spent long cold night in a chair.

My big worry is that our nocturnal bat baby is going to go all vampire and hibernate when the sun comes up. We...who am I kidding, SHE has worked her butt off for these two centimeters and she doesn't want to lose ground now because baby girl is worried she might sparkle in the light. (Dumbest vampire concept ever by the way).

We're here because yesterday at the OB the doc noticed that the babies bathwater was a quart low. He worried that baby was unhappy so he had Sara admitted immediately so they could put her on the fetal monitor. Turns out the baby was happy, healthy, and rehearsing for a dance recital. IN YOUR FACE doc!

So the wife with the bladder the size of a bb spent the night uncomfortable, unhappy, and generally unhooked from the fetal monitor as she kept having to go to the bathroom. I was very supportive and didn't tease her once about her hospital gown.

The night was spent in pain and sleeplessness. I managed to catnap between contractions. Sara was awake, alert and in agony the whole time. We were expecting some Eastern aid which hasn't come yet and the hospital was happy to heed our wishes for a natural experience.

Sara was given a good drug about 8am this morning allowing her to sleep for two whole hours. Baby got the drug too, and she seemed to like it also. They both rode the waves of contractions while otherwise sleeping through them.

We were both feeling pretty dissed by our Acupuncturist as we left fragmented and incoherent messages at all the phone numbers we had for her throughout the night. Unfortunately the one number we actually needed we didn't have, or at least we had it wrong. Once she arrived at her office and checked her office voice mail she called immediately with white hat, shiny needles and a hearty hi-ho silver!

Things that were once going in a bad direction are now happily back on track, even if we did cave on an injection or two of pain killer. Now we wait. I don't know what for, I guess once the contractions get up a good head of steam the baby comes in an explosion of stork feathers. I'm sure it will all become clear to me later. For now, I will dream of coffee, and document the experience for future generations. OK, screw it, I'm gonna nap too.

Mark, Ervina, and Cameron came by with provisions, I ate way too much and brought two grocery bags back to the room. The Doc had spoken via telephone. If baby doesn't show by 1pm, it is pitocin O'clock. It was 12:30. The nurse spoke of some magical number 200, Sara was at 120. All I know is that we were 80 short on something, so in went the pitocine. For those not in the know, pitocine is a cheep knock off of oxitocine which is produced naturally to induce labor. The cheep knock off is really good at making really strong butt kicking contractions, but it isn't very good at any of the other things that the real stuff does. Dr's love to use it because they can sell more epidurals that way. Rather than a nice easy on ramp up to delivery, it is like strapping a JATO rocket to the roof of a Chevy, and we all know how that turned out.

For Sara's part she is taking it like a warrior woman, she acknowledges the pain and lets it go with an exhale. Truth be told she's a serious bad ass. I would have begged for sweet merciful death twelve hours ago.

2:15pm Mr Toilet is Sara's friend. It is the most comfortable seat in the room, and its cold, I can see the appeal. Sure the baby is average in both estimated length and width, but if you've never done it before it may as well be a Bogue Sound Watermelon for all it matters.

4pm. I woke up. Sara was coming off of a dose of pain medicine, and she and the nurse had a long talk about other options. Sara is a badass. The delivery nurse rates this experience as about average which made us both feel better. Nothing too easy, nothing too hard. The "real" experience. When she spends time drinking coffee with the other veteran mom's she will have an honest story to tell, that wasn't colored by false expectations or fear uncertainty and doubt.

7:15pm Its about GO time! Cervix is at 9.5cm (which is a funny measurement since they use their fingers instead of a ruler). There is a table being set up as we speak with a blue plastic shower curtain over it and a whole mess of clamps. Looks like a dozen matching clamps. I suppose one of them must be scissors. One of them would have to be scissors right? You know those blue disposable shammies you can buy at the car wash? There are a pile of them here each one as big as a twin bed sheet. Its wild. Sara has her game face on, and my expression is most likely comical. I'd better put my shoes on.

8:00pm I was wondering what that little bucket was for. Its for barfing in.
8:25pm The nurse has Sara give a little push to see if baby is ready to come.
8:26pm The nurse tells Sara to STOP pushing or baby will come without the doctor!
8:30 Doctor comes.
8:35 Baby comes. with three pushes.
Fiona Bronwyn Cavenaugh
8.6lbs
20 inches tall
13.75 inch head
14 inch chest

8:38pm Daddy's P0WNZD. Doctor notes it and warns Sara that she's going to have to be the disciplinarian.
5:08am August 12th We have our first documented fart! That's my girl!

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 5:13 AM | Permalink

Throughout the process of waiting for baby, (we are at this moment 40 weeks and six days waiting) I've been faithfully not blogging about nothing...err not blogging about lame stuff. I mean not blogging. This is an exaggeration of course. I've been blogging my skinny butt off, but not here. I've been microblogging via Twitter. 140 characters maximum, no other rules. Their limitation is 140 characters, my limitation is to end on a punch line. I discovered that I'm really a better writer when I have a word limit.

• I've decided not to teach my child about pants. Instead she will know "executive leg coverings". Double barrel slingshots come much later.

• I looked at her and asked, "is it a contraction?". She nodded and replied, "Yep. I'm gonna have to poop soon." Then we had ice cream.

• Still no baby. It was a very quiet night. Thinking its time for the bull horn. "THIS IS YOUR FATHER SPEAKING. COME OUT WITH YOUR HEAD DOWN!"

• Like projects 50% of babies are delivered late. If they're over budget they are like IT projects. I hope she's not a university IT project!!!

• Pregnant women make nice human shields when mosquitoes attack! Didn't know that, now I do. Only 10 more days to exploit it, what a waste!

So here I am with the due date six days behind me. We've had two acupuncture "nudges" and we have a third scheduled for an hour from now. This afternoon its off to the OB where they will do a sonogram and decide if the placenta is still under warranty. If so they are willing to give baby another six days or they will come in after her. If the placenta is worn out they will go in much sooner. Me, I think the third nudge might be the charm were it not for the issue of baby's nocturnal habit. There are no contractions so long as the sun is shining, and yes, I think that is totally weird. Cavenaughs are a diurnal bunch. Sun goes down, we go to sleep, sun comes up we go to work. That is the way it has always been. Leave it to me to have a baby with her biological clock twelve hours off.

Saturday night through Sunday morning for instance (this is after the Saturday nudge), baby caused contractions every half hour until sunrise. The sun comes up and baby gives the morning the finger and goes off sulking into the womb. Sunday night you'd think that things would pick up where they left off, but no. Momentum is lost and we pretty much start from pre-nudge scratch. It is almost like pushing something uphill. You go as far as you can, let it rock down and do it again building momentum each time. If you lose the rhythm, you lose the motion. (we get together we'd be causing a commotion) First nudge pushed us a little up the hill, second nudge pushed us almost to the top. Hopefully today's nudge pushes us over the edge. Either that or Sara gives in to her innate impatience and tells the acupuncturist to just give her the "big whammy". The "Big Whammy" is six hours after the treatment you are in full active labor. Our acupuncturist would rather not give the "Big Whammy" because it rushes things, and she feels like things should always be done gently and at the rate it wants to go. However, she isn't going to let some western alchemist stick experimental drugs into Sara's veins either. Several million years of evolution (or 6000 years of God's Plan if that is your preference) isn't going to be beaten out by a drug that has only been used thirty or so years. That's foolish talk. This is why we are relying heavily on the medicine with a couple of thousand years of success, and using the one with a couple of hundred years of history for observation. Each to their strengths. If words like "emergency" or "trauma" are thrown around get me to a hospital, anything else and I'll go to the Eastern Doc. Keep your chemicals to yourself please.

Or to sum up this blog entry:
Wasn't there supposed to be a baby or something around this time?

Posted by Woody Cavenaugh at 10:10 AM | Permalink