Today is my father's sixty-fifth birthday. I remember last year wondering if we'd reached his terminal age. Today he tells me his own father died at sixty-six (also cancer) and he thinks it will be a "challenge" to outlast.

Unfortunately I just couldn't bring myself to have dinner with them tonight. Instead I had breakfast with my parents and catered out a lemon meringue pie - a pie I'd attempted to make myself this morning with disastrous results, disastrous as in my entire kitchen covered in various sugar and cornstarch cements. Bleh.

Today had its good points: I'm still alive, I still have my family, and we're all healthy. A friend took Nels to school today, thereby freeing me from an across-town errand. I met with three other individuals committed to this year's Community Garden - what a bright spot in the day! And in boiling tonight's bagels (all of which turned out perfectly) I looked out the window to see my husband and son gleefully having a flower fight, probably the only thing I smiled about today right down to my heart.

Labels: birthday, food, Nels, Ralph, the Ghost of Christmas Bastard

Today heading back on Cherry against fierce headwinds I would have given up and turned the corner for the nearest bus stop if I could have - that is, if I'd practiced popping off the front wheel to load the bike on the bus.* It wasn't just the run-of-the-mill tiredness after working a school shift and biking with Nels against the wind, it was that I'd been running late this morning and Nels and I got absolutely dumped on (rain the likes I've never experienced before) which led to the compromise of even our winter-prepared gear and ultimately Nels spent his birthday - the last day in his 3 /4 preschool class - wearing tight Barbie jeans and a babydoll fluffy sweater (spare clothes of the preschool's - and don't think the wardrobe wasn't his dream come true) and I never felt I got dry before I had to head back home.

Even worse for me was a pesky creepy Ju-on rattle emanating from the back of the bike: somehow the child's seat is sitting lower than the 1/4" clearance off the snap deck. Not only does this unsettle me (a potential safety concern), I also am not interested in my seat or snap deck being marred. It's hard for me when something just eats away at me and I can't fix it anytime soon.

I finally got home after dropping Nels off at my mother's. I cleaned and sorted and emailed and filled out acres of paperwork for tomorrow's pediatric dentist appointments, then picked up Sophie for some one on one time. My mother ended up taking Nels on a birthday shopping trip: a soccer ball, dump truck (for hauling dirt in the garden), socks, shoes, underwear, shorts, shirt, and hat. At four PM he swaggered out of her van all decked out and directing her to carry his parcels (reminded of: "Big mistake," Julia Roberts sasses while toting huge shopping bags in Pretty Woman).

Tonight we dragged ourselves to Casa Mia (my foursome, my parents, and friend Jasmine) for our dinner and Nels managed to stay awake, although looking very sleepy (his second wind set in: he's awake behind me as I type this). We had a magical moment as another table serenaded a sixty-something member with a happy birthday, erupting in operatic vocalizations and ending in a round of hearty applause. My husband took Nels over to introduce himself as another birthday and after making acquaintance the group sang even louder to Nels, the entire restaurant joining in as one - it was like listening to a choir performance. I wish I would have asked them who they were or how they came to sing so well. I was trying not to collapse into my dinner with some kind of exhaustion, but that didn't prevent me from smiling like a fool and feeling the sting of tears.

The evening eventually wound to a close at my parents' after birthday cake and gifts. Nels received four presents, two of them additional Lego sets which he has not stopped fixating on since two and a half hours ago. He tells me, "I'm happy on my birthday."

Yes indeedy.

* Last week the children and I rode out to the bus barn on the Aberdeen / Hoquiam border to practice my hand at quick loading of the bike on the front of a transit bus. After a few minutes waiting in the lobby a supervisor came out and told me she was sorry but due to insurance concerns the public were not allowed in the bus yard. She went on to tell me it was easy to put a bike on the front of the bus. I stopped her then and explained that no, it wasn't - I had a special, extra-long bike I needed to take the front wheel off of to proceed. When it started to dawn on her I'd ridden my two children out the barn for the sole purpose of this practice run, she flushed and, from the looks of it, felt rather taken aback at her legalistic refusal. However, I'm not usually in the mood to ask someone to bend the rules. The handful of employees craned their necks out at the bike as I whisked us out and away. Nothing like leaving someone with that, boy do I feel like a douche feeling.

Labels: bike, birthday, Nels, rain, weather, X

I can't believe it's been - four years!

Nels David Hogaboom
a birth story

Born at home to mom Kelly, dad Ralph, and sister Sophia
1:20 AM Wednesday April 7, 2004
8 pounds 7 ounces
21 inches long

April 6th, 9 AM - is it or isn't it?

A couple hours after I wake up on Tuesday I'm having mild contractions that are only a tiny bit more intense than the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd had throughout the last half of my pregnancy. These contractions are only slightly painful and certainly not too intense. Nevertheless, they are somewhat distracting and never truly subside, coming anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes apart. Ralph senses things are going to go into motion and comes home at noon, starting his two weeks off of work. He calls my mom at about 3 PM and tells her to head up to see us (she leaves about 5 PM). At this point I am hopeful of labor but also feeling somewhat silly at the thought I might be treating everyone to a false alarm. My mom arrives at about 9 PM time and she and Ralph start writing down my contractions, calling midwives, and cleaning the house up a bit.

April 6th, 10 PM - the real thing

My mom and I are watching a movie together and my contractions are still coming about 10 minutes apart. I still claim I am unsure if labor is going someplace. But everyone is noticing I pause the movie during each contraction so I can concentrate on getting though it. I'm undecided if I should walk around to "get things moving" or lie down and rest in between contractions. I'm trying not to be too fearful of another long labor like I had with my first child. Suddenly at about 10:30 PM I hop up from the bed and turn off the movie, since contractions have sped up to about 4 minutes apart. Naturally my mom and Ralph are very excited and go about making phone calls and preparations while I pace the floor and cope with each contraction. It is going quite well but I keep telling myself these are the "easy" contractions and I try not to worry about what's to come.

Around 10:30 my midwives and my doula start arriving and I am focusing inward in the classic "Laborland" manner. I notice peripherally how efficient and friendly everyone is, setting up the bed, laying out blankets and birth supplies and getting snacks. Everyone is wonderful to me and provides me with water and encouragement between contractions, respectful silence and privacy during. I feel very protected and honored and so it is easy not to be fearful. My doula Elizabeth arrives and strokes my back and speaks softly to me. She puts me nearly to sleep in between contractions. I am feeling so grateful for the love and encouragement I am getting. I know I am coping very well and in fact since I am doing so well I don't think I am very far along.

April 7th, Midnight - silliest labor quote

Things are intense but I don't want a check to see how far I've dilated. I am somewhat afraid to discover all the work I am doing hasn't gotten me anywhere. Laura (one of the midwives) suggests I get into the tub. I'd always thought of the tub as what you use as a last resort toward the end of labor so I tell her I can wait. After a few more contractions I decide to get in, hoping for some pain relief. I spend about 40 minutes in the tub with contractions edging up their intensity. Everyone is around me encouraging me and vocalizing though my contractions. Elizabeth holds my hands and breathes with me through the contractions, then puts a cold cloth on my head and neck in between. Everyone helps keep me calm and focused, as does the knowledge I have to take each contraction one at a time. Close to 1 AM I feel the urge to have Ralph hold and kiss me while I rest, and help talk me through contractions (he's repeating something I read from Birthing From Within: "Labor is hard work, it hurts, and you can do it"). I don't realize at the time but I am going through transition. After a few contractions I start to feel a little of that, well -- grunting urge. I know it is perfectly okay to grunt and push a little to help with the pain and I instinctively do so. The midwives clue into what I am doing and are back in the room. Laura says, "Gee Kelly, it sounds like you're pushing" and I reply (idiotically) "I'm not really pushing, it just feels good to bear down a little bit". These contractions are pretty rough but everyone is helping me so much it is still very manageable.

April 7th, 1:10 AM - OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!

Kathy convinces me to let her check me and informs me not only am I completely dilated, but that the baby's head has descended quite a bit. I am completely amazed at this (despite knowing I am feeling the urge to push) and even accuse everyone of just saying that to make me feel better! (I feel a little silly about this later). During each contraction I am feeling the pain in my hips, all the way to the bone, which my midwives tell me is a sign the baby is moving. Kathy tells me later I comment that it is like a crowbar prying my pelvis apart. Despite the pain I am coping well and in between the contractions I am still calm. I comment that I am not feeling any pressure in my bottom yet and I think to myself this means I have a ways to go. Oops, I speak too soon -- with the next contraction I feel the baby AT THE DOOR, so to speak. This takes me by surprise and my labor sounds change from low and powerful and very alarmed and - well - a little screechy. Everyone is talking to me and trying to help me calm down and focus. I am amazed at the pain and pressure and overcome with an almost frantic need to push. I am pushing, pushing, pushing, before I can tune into my midwives telling me to ease off. I do the best I can and manage to ease off a bit and direct my energies more constructively. Despite the pain I am overjoyed to know I am so close and my baby will be here any minute. "I know I will feel so good when I see my baby", I tell myself and this helps me. Kathy tells me to reach down and feel the head and after an initial hesitation I do, surprised again at how soft and smooth it is. I can feel each part of his head I deliver. It hurts! But I know I am close. The head is out and then I am surprised by the fullness and difficulty of the shoulders, which I do not remember from my first birth.

April 7th, 1:20 AM - Nels is born

With one final push I feel my baby being delivered and I am surprised it is already over. I have been kneeling in the tub and so immediately turn around and Ralph tells me later I am saying, "Give me my baby! I want to hold my baby!" to the midwives who are doing their thing. I have a vision of his long, smooth body floating in the water, the room lit by candlelight in a soft glow. Within seconds he is in my arms and I am crying and Ralph is crying and the whole room is full of a collective soft and surprised murmur. I am holding him to my chest and saying, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it" over and over, feeling so filled with surprise and happiness. He is perfect and so soft and I feel wonderful. I realize I have done it, I have given birth to a healthy baby boy in my own home, with my own power.

April 7th, early morning - getting to know you

I stay in the water crying and holding my baby for several minutes before anyone thinks to discover the baby's sex. I hold my child away from my chest and in between squirming legs and the umbilical cord I see we have a boy! Of course, this is perfect. Everything feels perfect! After a few more minutes I am ready to get out of the water and get cleaned up, but I know we have to wait for the placenta. I feel like this takes forever but it probably is only a fifteen minute wait. Another surprising feeling of fullness and then the placenta is delivered. Kathy has to pull the cord a bit and gently massage my tummy to get the whole thing in one piece. My mom is on the phone with my dad and has to pass the phone around so she can cut the cord. I am ready to get out and dry off and nurse my second child.

I am helped out of the tub and into some dry clothes. I am so happy to have so much loving help. I prop myself up on the bed and hold my son to my breast. He latches almost immediately like a pro. I keep asking my husband, "Is this really happening?" because it has gone like a dream and I am so happy. After some time of nursing the midwife eventually takes my son to the foot of the bed to weigh him and check his limbs and reflexes. Elizabeth brings me food -- cheese, bread, apples and oranges. My pulse is checked and found to be high (100) so I am encouraged to drink a huge glass of water (this happened with Sophie too). My afterpains are intense, more so than with Sophie, but I know this to be normal. I breathe through them. Sophie wakes up and is brought into the room, looking cranky and confused. I kiss her and introduce her to her brother (she is unimpressed) and Ralph takes her back to the bedroom to settle her back to sleep. Kathy checks my bottom out and finds only two tiny tears, no need for sutures. The energy of the house is settling, people are packing things, Elizabeth says goodbye. Laura leaves too and I take a shower with Kathy's help. She stays long enough to give postpartum instructions and asks me to page her when I can pee. I am a little anxious about this myself, for vague fear of a catheter. Kathy leaves about 3:20 and as her car is pulling out I am able to pee, feeling now finally that everything is alright.

My husband is looking dead tired. I am wired and unable to sleep. We send my mom off to bed. I hold my son who is still awake! He is drowsy though and wants to snuggle. At about 4:30 AM I finally fall asleep on the bed, Ralph on the couch, holding his son. We are awakened just before 7 AM to the joyful sounds of our firstborn running through the house talking excitedly to Grandma. Grandma looks like she really needs a cup of coffee.

Labels: babies, birthday, milestones, Nels

Four years ago today despite the onset of faint contractions I'd taken a lovely, deep nap in the sunlight of my living room, waking as peacefully as I ever had. Deep in my bones this brief sleep felt like a ritual, a final act as mother to one child - before embarking on the New Adventure. I've heard it said any time you add a child to the family it's as momentous as the first child's addition. I knew this to be true that afternoon and time has not proven me wrong.

The family we dined with the afternoon I went into labor with Nels just left this morning - my friend Abbi and her two daughters who decided impulsively to take a trip and ended up staying three days and two nights (yay!). We spent a very active and rather foodie weekend cooking, playing, visiting the sights (including the farmer's market, our fruit and veggie stand, the carniceria, our Salvadorian restaurant, and a local creamery), swimming, recovering (by napping - which saved my body and mind), cooking some more (raw milk cheese! strawberry rhubarb pie! roasted jalapenos!), and sharing gardening hopes, seeds, and starts (the Hogaclan being by far the primary beneficiary on the starts).



About thirty minutes after our guests leave we find ourselves at my parents', serving up the pie I'd made the night before. My daughter suddenly exclaims in proud surprise, "I lost my tooth!" and reveals to us a bloody gap. A small flurry of excitement; my mother and grandfather in tears as they say to one another, "I wish Jean [my grandmother] were here." Sophie's sweet voice develops a slight lisp; now in talking her full upper lip catches a bit on the void her upper tooth left behind. She tells me later with cool confidence, "It fell into my sleeve."

This evening I knead the dough for treat I'm bringing Nels' class tomorrow (his birthday as well as his last day before moving up to the older class which he repeatedly points out, "Is full of new girls!") while he sits at the table, licking the mixer paddles. I am tired but breadmaking is one of my favorite things to do. "This dough is so nice..." I tell my husband, pleased at the soft, springy, smoothness that warm milk, egg, and butter affords (this particular confection contains chocolate and brown sugar, too!) and Nels adds, "Uh-huh!" enthusiastically, busy wiping his fingers and nodding. I lean in and kiss him for being who he is, my golden child who shares my love of cooking (ingredients he's chosen for us over the last week: cauliflower, cantelope, and a special red sea salt) and is forever coming up with the most imaginative games (tonight he was a pie bird and required I pantomime the preparation of a pie using his body).

The rest of the family enjoys the fireside and the warmth, contentment at the end of our Spring Break.

Labels: babies, birthday, food, friends, milestones, Nels, Sophie

This afternoon I'm sitting in Casa Mia with my husband and son drinking coffee and watching, out of the corner of my eye, back-to-back episodes of "Cops" from the television that faces the restaurant kitchen. Onscreen an anemic blonde's shiny, anxious face crumples into ruin as officials pull two small baggies of a plant from under her seat. Her boyfriend sits against a concrete wall, grim and silent, while she is handcuffed and put in a patrol car. Both of their faces are as spare as knife blades, homely with anxiety and a life used to disappointments, setbacks, and drama. I feel so odd seeing this onscreen. We don't have television in our home; getting glimpses of it is a foreign experience.

Today I've had several birthday wishes and songs,* a lovely bouquet from my friend Shannon, and numerous sweet emails and IMs. A morning mocha from my mother and - best of all - Ralph took a full day off to be with me. In the "Gets Your Teary-Eyed Thing Going" category, my daughter ratted my birthday out to her class and after my volunteer time the teacher led them all in singing to me. I love those children dearly.

I also just printed out the finished copy of January / February's Sure Nail & Fire, mailed out issues to subscription-takers, and got our Valentine's out (two separate swaps). Oh, and I've officially decided to homeschool my kids, and been rather busy with that concept as well.



Busy busy.

* I even find the ones from my online community-bots to be oddly comforting.

Labels: birthday, family life, food, SNF

In just a few hours I will have completed thirty-one revolutions around the sun. Good job, me! And thanks, mom and dad! And everyone else involved, really.

Last year on my thirtieth birthday it was a jumble. I was days away from moving our family for the first time (and in denial); I then had a surprise party that included employees, friends, FOO - who I typically would have to beg or cajole to visit, including during times I faced surgery and baby-birthin' - and this great party only minutes after I'd discovered our dear lovely family cat Fancy had been killed. It was an amazing, wonderful, and emotional ride; this year I'm content with a lot quieter. I love the idea of being 31. I like the number itself.

The weekend entailed a visit from college friend Jodi, husband Doug, and their two children Cyan and India. After they left I darted back to my sewing room to finish baby booties for Nels' teacher's imminent birth and enjoyed my mother's company for a dinner of cabbage rolls and baked potatoes courtesy of Ralph's cooking. So all-in-all at 9 PM I'm tired but grateful and content and looking forward to a lie-in.

Labels: birthday, FOO, friends, milestones, PT, sewing

My kids cuddle each other and the rest of us more than you would believe possible. Yes, it's awesome.


A rather blurry photo but does anyone have any questions as to why I am incessantly pinching her bum? Nels is trying to read.


The Princess looks alert, but he's actually quite Pink-Eyed and lacking in coffee! This was a capital "E" Emergency and we rectified it at once.


Like an elderly couple, we rely on Ralph for most of the driving.


Speaking of elderly, my mom turned 58 and we took her out to lunch (my treat and it broke our budget). This dessert was called a "melting chocolate cake" and it was divine.


I picked up some yummy and tender romaine. I love garden-fresh lettuce - drenched in dressing, yes.


We got a new kitty. "As you know." Sophie held him on the drive home and he was quite calm.


Sleepover with Billy! Can you feel the love? The kitty felt it too.


Harris, newly named (Billy helped) and looking - dare I say it? - wise.


That morning Nels helped me make...


Bagels! Recipe and methods coming soon in the zine.


Sophie attempts to swipe one, early, like the Bagel Weasel she is.


This photo disguises the very, very threadbare nature of her suit. She continues to love and thrive at swimming.

I enjoyed this quote I read on Molly's MySpace today:

The fact is, what I hated in the Church was that I hated in society. Namely, authoritarians. Power freaks. Rigid dogmatists. Those greedy, underloved, undersexed twits who want to run everything. While the rest of us are busy living--busy tasting and testing and hugging and kissing and goofing and growing--they are busy taking over. Soon their sour tentacles are around everything: our governments, our economies, our schools, our publications, our arts and our religious institutions. Men who lust for power, who are addicted to laws and other unhealthy abstractions, who long to govern and lead and censor and order and reward and punish; those men are the turds of Moloch, men who don't know how to love, men who are sickly afraid of death and therefore are afraid of life: they fear all that is chaotic and unruly and free-moving and changing-- they fear nature and fear life itself, they deny life and in so deny God. They are presidents and governors and mayors and generals and police officers and chairmen-of-the-boards. They are crafty cardinals and fat bishops and mean old monsignor masturbators. They are the most frightened and most frightening mammals who prowl the planet; loveless, anal-compulsive control-freak authoritarians, and they are destroying everything that is wise and beautiful and free. And the most enormous ironic perversion is how they destroy in the name of Christ who is peace and God who is love.

- Tom Robbins - Another Roadside Attraction

Labels: birlo, birthday, family life, FOO, food geekery, Nels, Ralph, Sophie

Our mini-vacation has come and gone. Ralph and I had a great time; our friends Cyn, Paige, and Chris came (along with two guest dogs) and we just ate, swam (yes, Ralph got a water fight - with only one opponent though), cooked (me only), and did dishes (sadly, a necessary evil of that last thing).

Sophie ran and jumped off the dock, swimming back to the end of the pier. She did this four thousand times, but each one I had to watch her swim back to the dock because her swimming still looks spastic and unreliable. I tried to look casual, not as if my heart was in my throat. Nels did not like the water so much; he mostly stayed inside, sometimes stripping nude and eating chips. Both kids got stung - Sophie by a wasp, Nels by a bee. Sophie helped me make Ralph's birthday cake and suggested pink frosting.

The drive home was easy and our newly-stung boy fell asleep before we reached the end of the driveway (I watched him carefully; he had the tiniest bit of swelling on his finger and it went down within 12 hours). We capped the weekend with only a brief stop home before heading to see Ratatouille. Then home to mountain of towels and vacation laundry.

Labels: birthday, film, friends, Nels, Ralph, Sophie

and I'm gonna gift ya'll with a tribute to my son and our life thus far.


This is me, right about when I got pregnant with Nels. I haven't been skinny since. Thanks, Boy!


Sophie, same time as above. What the fuck? How cute is that? That's Ralph's pasty leg in the background, BTW. Not mine. I swear.


My Easter Baby. Well, not Easter exactly. His birth was my favorite thing ever. He hung out in the sling quite a bit - in this case, daddy has him.


Ralph, a few days later. Everyone in the goddamn house slept while I ran around. It was great.


Sophie, the "big" sister - right after Nels was born. Her hobbies at this time: dressing up as a ninja, nursing a couple times a day.


Sophie and Nels - still summertime, you can tell by their skin. Jesus, have I never heard of sunblock? What kind of mother am I?


Nels' smile is always in his eyes. Our doula knit this cap.


First Halloween. How cute is this? His ears even match his expression. He's just about to go on the hayride at the Ft. Worden Spooktacular. We went every year. (P.S. you can see the tiny "flaw" in his left eye, in this picture).


One year old - and this is how our life was. He rode around on my body as I went about my business. I loved it.


Why is he so fat?!? Why did no one tell me?


Grabbin' the junk, in the front yard. God I miss PT. We won't be doing that here.


Nels' second birthday. I made him a butterfly cake. Check out Mr. Surly Curls. He will look the same in 65 years.


A typical "look" from Nels, usually trying to get some boob or chocolate (or both). Check the cleft chin. What a hunk! Yes, I'm a sick Oedipal case - but most mommies are, they just don't admit it.


My little kitten on our last day in PT. He's heading - who knows where. I have always yelled, grabbed, and / or caught him. So far.


The Boy, contemplating life's existential issues.

(Flickr tag set)

Labels: birthday, family life, Nels, tenderness

If you visit Los Arcos family Mexican restaurant in Hoquiam, you will find a picture of my daughter, beaming yet gripping my arm shyly as she is sung "Happy Birthday" in front of a ginormous Cinderella double-layer cake my mother made her, replete with a large Cinderella doll. Except Sophie pronounces it, and I'm not kidding, "Cingorilla". She is suddenly interested in princesses. I am trying not to hate on princesses but rather find examples of useful princesses. P.S. I am open to suggestions!


My mother bought Sophie a Mary Kate and Ashley Olson white embroidered blouse and long skirt. Yeah, you heard. But it is actually just fine - not too trampy nor barfy. Don't ask me about her pensive expression here - I have no idea. The little "glowing things" in her hair are tiny clips - my mom fixed her up before we went out.


I made Sophie a swim kit: her own Sophie-sized duffel bag (a black Nike one), a towel, small shampoo and conditioner, goggles (she had the suit and cap already), and Cliff bars (one after each swim lesson). Here was the coup de grace - my brother made her a laminated "swim kit key" with her name on side of the tag, and a pictorial and label reference for the items she needs to pack:


Get this, my brother created this off of photos I took of Sophie's exact swimsuit, etc. Now she has a waterproof tag listing her gear. Cool, huh? And yes, my brother just is that talented and available to hire except perhaps to me.


The princess hair didn't last long... (note my psoriasis - yay!)


... and the goggles were a big hit.

My brother, father, and husband did not get gifts for Sophie. But everyone had a great time (or seemed to) at the restaurant and celebration afterwards.

Labels: birthday, consumerism, FOO, party animal, Sophie

In a few minutes: the family all-out for Sophie's 5th birthday party. Yay Sophie! Yesterday she received a simply lovely birthday package from her friend Olivia (daughter to my friend Abbi):


From left to right: miso pretty gum, picture of Liv, fabulous summer fisherman hat, optical illusion book, small pewter night and dinosaur card.

Thank you, Olivia!

A few minutes ago I overheard my mom turn to my dad and angrily say, "He smells like shit. Check his ass." (referring to the dog who came in for his afternoon outside dump). 10 minutes later and I am still laughing, laughing, laughing.

Labels: birthday, FOO, friends, hilarity, random

1. Yesterday we found out my cat Fancy had been killed. R.I.P. my beloved, sweetest kitty.

2. The last 22 hours have been me at a surprise 30th birthday party / going away party / slumber party with my FOO and my most dear friends. I am still kinda shell-shocked (including, see #1). I need time to myself with the kids - to clean up (us and the house), rest, relax, nap, and pull myself together.

Individual thank yous will follow, but for now: thank you to all my friends and family who really, really surprised me with a wonderful thirtieth birthday party. It was a lovely experience.

Labels: birthday, FOO, friends, party animal, sorrows

Today is my thirtieth birthday. After brushing my teeth in the bathroom and pulling four combs out of my tangled post-sleep hair I re-entered my bedroom to a full-family seranade (Cyn knows just how sweet Sophie's "birthday" rendition is). My husband presents me with coffee (in a "birthday cup") and a card with a $25 iTunes gift certificate inside (my Ricky Gervais collection will all-too-soon be complete).

Besides Ralph's gift, I haven't received other gifts yet. However I have received so many nice comments and well-wishes for freinds, and they are appreciated. And because it was asked for, I'm going to provide my list of material goods I want:

1. Fancy's return home.

2 An old Euro breadbox from Pane D'Amore in Port Townsend ($80 - $110 apiece).

3. Two items from Escentials: A 1/2 ounce of their Dragon's Blood, and a 1/2 ounce of a custom blend (two parts cucumber, two parts grapefruit, one part fig).

4. A better coffee maker. Not a lot of timing, self-grinding crap. Not a french press, either (or Scaldy McScalds-a-Lot as I call them). I dunno.

5. A date (or a night away!) with Ralph. Very much.

6. A trip to the hairdressers. Perhaps put in the "Much Needed" category?

7. A date to see Ghost Rider with Sophie.

By the way: since I'm thirty now, and a big girl? I might just get some of these FOR myself.

Labels: birthday

I can't believe it's been a year.

Nels David Hogaboom
a birth story

Born at home to mom Kelly, dad Ralph, and sister Sophia
1:20 AM Wednesday April 7, 2004
8 pounds 7 ounces
21 inches long

April 6th, 9 AM - is it or isn't it?

A couple hours after I wake up on Tuesday I'm having mild contractions that are only a tiny bit more intense than the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd had throughout the last half of my pregnancy. These contractions are only slightly painful and certainly not too intense. Nevertheless, they are somewhat distracting and never truly subside, coming anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes apart. Ralph senses things are going to go into motion and comes home at noon, starting his two weeks off of work. He calls my mom at about 3 PM and tells her to head up to see us (she leaves about 5 PM). At this point I am hopeful of labor but also feeling somewhat silly at the thought I might be treating everyone to a false alarm. My mom arrives at about 9 PM time and she and Ralph start writing down my contractions, calling midwives, and cleaning the house up a bit.

April 6th, 10 PM - the real thing

My mom and I are watching a movie together and my contractions are still coming about 10 minutes apart. I still claim I am unsure if labor is going someplace. But everyone is noticing I pause the movie during each contraction so I can concentrate on getting though it. I'm undecided if I should walk around to "get things moving" or lie down and rest in between contractions. I'm trying not to be too fearful of another long labor like I had with my first child. Suddenly at about 10:30 PM I hop up from the bed and turn off the movie, since contractions have sped up to about 4 minutes apart. Naturally my mom and Ralph are very excited and go about making phone calls and preparations while I pace the floor and cope with each contraction. It is going quite well but I keep telling myself these are the "easy" contractions and I try not to worry about what's to come.

Around 10:30 my midwives and my doula start arriving and I am focusing inward in the classic "Laborland" manner. I notice peripherally how efficient and friendly everyone is, setting up the bed, laying out blankets and birth supplies and getting snacks. Everyone is wonderful to me and provides me with water and encouragement between contractions, respectful silence and privacy during. I feel very protected and honored and so it is easy not to be fearful. My doula Elizabeth arrives and strokes my back and speaks softly to me. She puts me nearly to sleep in between contractions. I am feeling so grateful for the love and encouragement I am getting. I know I am coping very well and in fact since I am doing so well I don't think I am very far along.

April 7th, Midnight - silliest labor quote

Things are intense but I don't want a check to see how far I've dilated. I am somewhat afraid to discover all the work I am doing hasn't gotten me anywhere. Laura (one of the midwives) suggests I get into the tub. I'd always thought of the tub as what you use as a last resort toward the end of labor so I tell her I can wait. After a few more contractions I decide to get in, hoping for some pain relief. I spend about 40 minutes in the tub with contractions edging up their intensity. Everyone is around me encouraging me and vocalizing though my contractions. Elizabeth holds my hands and breathes with me through the contractions, then puts a cold cloth on my head and neck in between. Everyone helps keep me calm and focused, as does the knowledge I have to take each contraction one at a time. Close to 1 AM I feel the urge to have Ralph hold and kiss me while I rest, and help talk me through contractions (he's repeating something I read from Birthing From Within: "Labor is hard work, it hurts, and you can do it"). I don't realize at the time but I am going through transition. After a few contractions I start to feel a little of that, well -- grunting urge. I know it is perfectly okay to grunt and push a little to help with the pain and I instinctively do so. The midwives clue into what I am doing and are back in the room. Laura says, "Gee Kelly, it sounds like you're pushing" and I reply (idiotically) "I'm not really pushing, it just feels good to bear down a little bit". These contractions are pretty rough but everyone is helping me so much it is still very manageable.

April 7th, 1:10 AM - OUCH, OUCH, OUCH!

Kathy convinces me to let her check me and informs me not only am I completely dilated, but that the baby's head has descended quite a bit. I am completely amazed at this (despite knowing I am feeling the urge to push) and even accuse everyone of just saying that to make me feel better! (I feel a little silly about this later). During each contraction I am feeling the pain in my hips, all the way to the bone, which my midwives tell me is a sign the baby is moving. Kathy tells me later I comment that it is like a crowbar prying my pelvis apart. Despite the pain I am coping well and in between the contractions I am still calm. I comment that I am not feeling any pressure in my bottom yet and I think to myself this means I have a ways to go. Oops, I speak too soon -- with the next contraction I feel the baby AT THE DOOR, so to speak. This takes me by surprise and my labor sounds change from low and powerful and very alarmed and - well - a little screechy. Everyone is talking to me and trying to help me calm down and focus. I am amazed at the pain and pressure and overcome with an almost frantic need to push. I am pushing, pushing, pushing, before I can tune into my midwives telling me to ease off. I do the best I can and manage to ease off a bit and direct my energies more constructively. Despite the pain I am overjoyed to know I am so close and my baby will be here any minute. "I know I will feel so good when I see my baby", I tell myself and this helps me. Kathy tells me to reach down and feel the head and after an initial hesitation I do, surprised again at how soft and smooth it is. I can feel each part of his head I deliver. It hurts! But I know I am close. The head is out and then I am surprised by the fullness and difficulty of the shoulders, which I do not remember from my first birth.

April 7th, 1:20 AM - Nels is born

With one final push I feel my baby being delivered and I am surprised it is already over. I have been kneeling in the tub and so immediately turn around and Ralph tells me later I am saying, "Give me my baby! I want to hold my baby!" to the midwives who are doing their thing. I have a vision of his long, smooth body floating in the water, the room lit by candlelight in a soft glow. Within seconds he is in my arms and I am crying and Ralph is crying and the whole room is full of a collective soft and surprised murmur. I am holding him to my chest and saying, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it" over and over, feeling so filled with surprise and happiness. He is perfect and so soft and I feel wonderful. I realize I have done it, I have given birth to a healthy baby boy in my own home, with my own power.

April 7th, early morning - getting to know you

I stay in the water crying and holding my baby for several minutes before anyone thinks to discover the baby's sex. I hold my child away from my chest and in between squirming legs and the umbilical cord I see we have a boy! Of course, this is perfect. Everything feels perfect! After a few more minutes I am ready to get out of the water and get cleaned up, but I know we have to wait for the placenta. I feel like this takes forever but it probably is only a fifteen minute wait. Another surprising feeling of fullness and then the placenta is delivered. Kathy has to pull the cord a bit and gently massage my tummy to get the whole thing in one piece. My mom is on the phone with my dad and has to pass the phone around so she can cut the cord. I am ready to get out and dry off and nurse my second child.

I am helped out of the tub and into some dry clothes. I am so happy to have so much loving help. I prop myself up on the bed and hold my son to my breast. He latches almost immediately like a pro. I keep asking my husband, "Is this really happening?" because it has gone like a dream and I am so happy. After some time of nursing the midwife eventually takes my son to the foot of the bed to weigh him and check his limbs and reflexes. Elizabeth brings me food -- cheese, bread, apples and oranges. My pulse is checked and found to be high (100) so I am encouraged to drink a huge glass of water (this happened with Sophie too). My afterpains are intense, more so than with Sophie, but I know this to be normal. I breathe through them. Sophie wakes up and is brought into the room, looking cranky and confused. I kiss her and introduce her to her brother (she is unimpressed) and Ralph takes her back to the bedroom to settle her back to sleep. Kathy checks my bottom out and finds only two tiny tears, no need for sutures. The energy of the house is settling, people are packing things, Elizabeth says goodbye. Laura leaves too and I take a shower with Kathy's help. She stays long enough to give postpartum instructions and asks me to page her when I can pee. I am a little anxious about this myself, for vague fear of a catheter. Kathy leaves about 3:20 and as her car is pulling out I am able to pee, feeling now finally that everything is alright.

My husband is looking dead tired. I am wired and unable to sleep. We send my mom off to bed. I hold my son who is still awake! He is drowsy though and wants to snuggle. At about 4:30 AM I finally fall asleep on the bed, Ralph on the couch, holding his son. We are awakened just before 7 AM to the joyful sounds of our firstborn running through the house talking excitedly to Grandma. Grandma looks like she really needs a cup of coffee.

Labels: babies, birthday, milestones, Nels