Bathtime!

Now all he has to do is start washing his own hair:

7 Months... 7 teeth!

Some of the recent Samurai action (did I mention there's been a lot of it?):

Month 10 of Intern Year

Recently, I had to write a 1 page narrative for my Transitional Year program regarding an experience this year that will change the way I practice medicine:

          In the middle of the night, the light comes on in my room and I open my eyes to see a white-gowned women entering. She approaches me with tourniquet in one hand, dragging her phlebotomy cart with the other. I’ve never been an easy stick and getting pricked in the middle of a well-fought bout of sleep is frustrating. I’m so groggy, though, I hardly even feel it before I’m out again.

          Sometime later, I’m being ushered into the bathroom by my nurse. She carries my iv and foley bag as I try to lower myself down on the toilet, the bottom half of my body still prickly and waking up from the anesthesia. With care, she deflates the cuff and I feel the foley pulling from some unfamiliar place. I can hear the clots of blood fall into the water below me. “Just take your time,” she says, “it may be awhile before you can get your urine moving.” I can’t believe I’m sitting on a toilet with this complete stranger; it is so… personal. Yet, everything about her is reassuring and caring. The way she moves around me, quietly, calmly. In the dark of the night shift, I never learned her face, but I will always remember how her afro, silhouetted by the hall light, reminded me of a halo when she entered the room. 

          Just a day before, I had never been a hospital patient: no stitches, no ivs, and certainly no foley catheters. I am surprised myself when, after 19 hours of labor at home, I feel reluctant to go to the hospital. “What will it be like?” I ask my doula as I crawl around the floor of the candle-lit room, lean over a yoga-ball and breathe deeply through a contraction. My husband rubs my back. She smiles, evidently appreciating the irony of a physician asking her what the hospital is like. “Well, first of all, it will be very bright and people will be running around, helping you get settled. It’ll be awhile before you can turn off the lights and have some peace.” I play it over in my mind: lights, nurses, bloodwork, doors opening and closing. I feel my uterus tighten like a band squeezing around to my back and I feel a dropping sensation in my pelvis. “OK. It’s time to go.” 

          Six hours later, I’m sitting on the OR table, curling my back “just like a shrimp” as I’ve seen countless other women do before. The contractions are happening more frequently now and though the pain is getting worse, I feel terrified of having a needle stuck in my back and a scalpel cutting my abdomen. “Next year when you’re doing these, you’ll be able to tell your patients what it’s like,” says my anesthesiologist. And it dawns on me: I’ve never been able to put myself in my patients shoes because I’ve never been a patient. My lower half quickly goes numb and I can’t even move my legs. The doctor and nurses grab hold of me and move me into position. All I can do is relax and give in to letting them care for me.

Intern year...not quite over

Frick-a-frack!

It's my last free weekend until at least the end of June and I get called in to cover for someone who's sick.

This intern I'm covering for has a so-called gastrointestinal bug. Conveniently, he happened to have the day off today, too. Is this a three day weekend that he's calling in "sick" for? I like to think the best of people, but I've got a weird feeling about this one...

And it's not just for tomorrow. No. It's an overnight shift. 30 hours. There goes my beautiful, relaxing final weekend at home with Sam. Kyle's out of town. Thank God for Beth and Steve-- Sam will be enjoying his first sleep-over sans parents.

Grrrr... sometimes I hate being in a profession with such responsibilities....

Crawling to Seattle

Spent my only week off this year (aside from the 6 weeks I got for maternity leave) visiting family in MA for Diana's bridal shower and then looking for a place to live in Seattle.  The weekend in MA was lovely; I always enjoy seeing the family with Sam and he was able to meet his two cousins, Ethan and Gavin.

The trip to Seattle was a bit daunting. It started with the 5+ hour plane ride from Boston to Seattle that I inexplicably scheduled during the time that both Sam and I sleep.  It was exhausting but Sam weathered it like the Champ he is; at the rent car counter at midnight he was babbling and smiling and I wondered, "How is it that my child is comforting me here?"

The next few days, Kyle and I tried to catch up on sleep and also explored the city. Several times, I found myself thinking, "What the heck have I done? I'm moving my whole family across the country where we have to start everything new." The sound of my inner voice was familiar-- it's the same one I've heard on the rare occasion when I'm exceptionally tired at work. It has a tendency to say negative things and to assume that things are harder than normal. I told myself my lack of sleep was making everything worse than it was. Then Kyle told me not to shoulder the burden of this move, that it was a family decision, thought out by both of us. He reminded me that we were in it together and he was excited to move to Seattle. How I love him...

As the week went on, everyone adjusted to the time zone and I felt more confident. On our last day, we walked Sam in the Washington Park Arboretum (coffees in hand, of course) in Montlake, enjoyed treats in a gluten-free, vegan, sugar-alternative bakery (Heaven!), and saw the awesome sky-line from Gas Works Park in Fremont. I started imaging how great things will be once we're there, established in our own space.  I guess I like the security of routine and home comforts and this is only more so with an infant in tow.

Sam did great. He made friends with a large lab named Amos and continued to piece together his forward motion. In Seattle, we witnessed him make a few sequential crawling motions and when we returned to Atlanta, he showed us a full-on, across-the-room, crawl. I thought about how patient and determined he is and realized it's a good metaphor for the upcoming move: take it one small step at a time.

Here's some pics from the visit home:

Ethan, Sam, and Gavin

With Dad

Toes are the best!

A Seattle park from Sam's perspective:

At the Gas Works Park in Fremont looking south to downtown:

The "Whole Fam-Damnly"

Seattle Skyline

Whoa, look at that crawling!

This new mobility means Sam is discovering new things everyday:

The 6th Month

Sam is nearly 6 months old. 

He continues to roll easily from back to front (less so from front to back), tripod, and is newly on all fours. He can inch-worm himself backwards, but has yet to develop any forward momentum. He's adept at turning 360 on his belly; we find him in many positions in his crib during the night. 

He grasps small items like blocks in his hand and everything is thoroughly inspected with his mouth. He's in the 4-6 month outgoing phase in which he is curious, happy, and easily delighted.  He clearly recognizes immediate family members and is initially shy around strangers.

He continues to experiment with sound combinations including broadening his dolphin-like squeals. He discovered how to splash in the bathtub last night and started eating rice cereal this week. His upper incisors and lateral incisors have appeared, for a new total of 6 teeth!

Best of all, he's been sleeping a solid 11 hrs per night for the last 3 weeks. We shifted to letting him cry a little before sleep and now he rarely protests. 

Easily portable:

Laughing:

Tummy time and grasping and pulling:

On all fours:

First Solid Food: