Jami is Easily Amused

This is from the bed in the hospital. Is it me, or does the "nurse" in the picture look really surprised? I don't think I'd want to call this particular nurse.

Jami and a New Beginning

If I were to take a page from EDW's book and title posts with lyrics, this one would be "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end". Yes, this is another post about my recent birth-giving and I'm not going to apologize for that and the several more that will probably follow. It's sorta the biggest thing going on in my life at the moment. On the way to the hospital, I had plenty of conflicting emotions. One of the biggest was that as tired as I was of the pregnancy and all the stresses, hardships and just plain stupid pregnancy stuff that went with it, I felt sad knowing this was the end (or, at least the beginning of the end, since I didn't know at the time that my labor would last approximately 7 million hours. Okay, only about 59, but still. Felt like 7 million.) I thought of the above lyric in the car, as we drove down Rt. 88 - the end of the pregnancy, the beginning of Finn. And before that, the end of my body being totally mine, the beginning of my pregnancy. Knowing from having Eddie that the end of each stage is so bittersweet and that they come so blindingly fast. I sort of miss having him in there. Don't get me wrong, since I was released from my stupid eating restrictions the moment he came out, I loved being not pregnant. I love holding him and hearing his little noises, his soft newborn hair and skin. I love staring at his perfect tiny face and admiring the many, many different expressions he makes. And of course, rolling over in the night, not peeing every 36 minutes, all the stuff that makes it great to not be pregnant. But I do miss the feeling of knowing he was in there. I miss the relief of getting kicked even though I didn't like how it felt. I miss the anticipation of his impending arrival and the excuse to swan about a little. And I think of how I'll miss this stage so soon from now. I'll miss him being tiny and totally dependant. I'll miss newborn smell and funny noises and him fitting in one arm, but I have to remind myself at that stage to enjoy the things I'll miss when that new beginning is at its end. Time moving forward only is so unfair. Can't I keep this moment? Save it and come visit it next year? And in 50 years?

Jami's Birthing Tips

Hi-de-ho, folks. Long time, no blog. For anyone who is unaware, I was off giving birth to my new son, Griffin, which only took 59 hours start to finish. So, with that fun behind me, I thought I'd share a few hints for anyone who might find themselves in the family way. 1. Before you leave for the hospital, make peace with the idea that everyone you encounter there, and I am including the parking lot attendants, janitors and cafeteria ladies, are going to see you not only naked, but in the most awkward and compromising positions. There is no way to give birth in a hospital without pretty much showing the world everything you've got unless you're going straight to a Cesarean section. 2. "Resting" or "sleeping" in a hospital means lying in bed, hooked up to a couple different machines and waiting for the next procedure to be done while various things beep, flash and occasionally sound meaningless alarms. 3. Nature doesn't care what you plan. I had a birth vision, my midwives knew it, it was in my file for the nurses to read. I might as well have added "I would like fairies to sprinkle us all with magic dust twice an hour" and "Please put Mike's hard lemonade in my IV" for all that we were able to stick to the plan. 4. People will do things to you that ordinarily you would report to the police, and you will thank them. Enough said. 5. Pack more than you think you'll need. I didn't pack my razor. I packed a teeny sample bottle of conditioner. I packed two shirts, 1 pair of shorts, and 1 bra. I ended up being there 5 nights. Besides having leg hair that would make a yeti proud, I had to choose between wearing hospital gowns all day or clothes I'd been wearing for a seeming eternity. 6. Nurses rock - I can't say enough about the awesome nurses I had both in Labor and Delivery and in Post Partum. They were totally on top of stuff, brought me things I didn't even know to ask for, changed the baby's diaper when I just plain didn't feel like it, and were always super-friendly, but not perky, thank goodness. I also loved the room service and the nice people that would peek in once or twice a day and ask if they could clean the bathroom and empty the trash. I would have liked to bring them all home. 7. Dermoplast is awesome, ice packs are great and don't underestimate the value of the hospital's disposable mesh panties.

Jami Waxes Thoughtful

I haven't blogged much lately, starting with vacation where I didn't have internet access and really, as much as I love to write, just didn't have it in me to dig out the laptop and commit thoughts to the virtual paper. Of course, getting back from vacation also meant laundry, cleaning and getting ready for our fall schedule. And, oh yeah, this here baby that will apparently be born at some point. With all that and the ability to commit brief thoughts to FaceBook, I just haven't been here as much. I do think of blog posts, mostly as I am drifting off to a restless slumber each night, but by morning, the posts in my head have slipped away. Naps are big now, I need them to avoid falling asleep while cooking or driving. Writing is one of my joys, and one of my sanity-keepers, and yet, how is it that it is one of the first things I let slip away? Do I really *need* to check my FaceBook Farmville Farm one more time instead of brain dumping into a blog? Logically no, but the farm I can manage while watching mindless shows, and the blog I feel required to put creative effort into. I actually got to read entire books while on vacation, reading while giving them my entire undivided attention for more than 3 minutes at a time, a rare luxury indeed. It felt as though I'd found an old friend living next door who I thought had moved to Abu Dhabi. This past weekend I went out for drinks (okay, soft drinks for me) with a few former coworkers. An event which had been so commonplace I never gave it two thoughts in a row became a major event for me: food and drinks with adults, and since they were guys, no mommy talk. I guess I am thinking about how the things I used to consider normal and essential for my mental health are now rare treats. Also long, hot bubble baths. What else has slipped away with barely a notice? Don't get me wrong, there are new things that to some extent have replaced some of these - mom's night out, though only once a month and with lots of mommying talk has replaced drinks with the guys. MOPS definitely keeps me from wanting to drive my car off a bridge. You can't beat cuddling with a sleepy toddler. It happened so fast and so slow. I had almost not noticed, and yet couldn't miss it. This is how our lives change.

Jami, Beyond Remembering

Eight years, since we watched in uncomprehending horror as our world changed forever. We have moved on, lived, laughed, loved. We still remember, but we do not, cannot live in those moments. That day, those hours, are not what will define our lifetimes, no matter how they reshaped our thinking or our lives. I won't rehash with you where I was or what I did. I've done that and I will share it with my children and, God willing, their children as well. I will forever feel hot tears when I see the replay, either on a screen or in my mind. I must remember because I can't forget, nor should I. What we saw that day, that my friends was Evil. Regardless of religion or race, the acts of those men and those who had a hand in planning held no redeeming quality, no nobility, no room for forgiveness. The acts we saw afterward, those were Americans - risking their lives to save others, reaching out to the grieving, doing what had to be done. Carrying disabled coworkers down flights of steps. Sacrificing one's own life to stop flight 93. Donating blood, clothing, time, money. Public displays of mourning, of hope, of determination that this should not happen ever again. I am proud of America. I believe we can hold our heads up high and say that our country isn't perfect, but our people are damn good people. We survived this crisis with grace and dignity and we will continue to survive and thrive. You took some of our family and friends, and a few buildings, but you will not take our spirit. God has blessed America, and I pray he continues to do so.

Jami Back from Vacation

So I'll post more later, but I just wanted to share this photo: If you can't read the sign, it says "Pepper Spray, Stunguns [sic] Sugar Free Fudge"