Chip and I took a tour of Vanderbilt Hospital last night. This is the place that we have chosen to have Stella - mainly because this hospital has the program with the midwives. We were given a tour of Labor & Delivery, as well as, the Postpartum rooms that both provide modest accommodations. The instructor did answer all of our questions and concerns and again we feel at ease that we have made the right decision.
My Dad has been spending some time at Vanderbilt Hospital these days as well. I have not shared through this blog that on March 25 my Dad was diagnosed with Prostate Cancer. It was found during a routine physical, so we are hopeful that it was caught in good time. He met with a specialist at Vanderbilt hospital and will have surgery on June 3. This is why it is so important for men and women to get an annual physical.
The specialist did run some additional tests that brought attention to some spots on his lungs. Dad then sees a lung specialist at Vanderbilt and a series of other tests were given and eventually a PET Scan to see if there was anything anywhere else in his body. They did find spots on his pelvic bone and sinus region. The doctor has chosen not to do anything at this time and has asked for another PET Scan in three months. I have tossed this around in my head a hundred times and really not sure what it all means. We were hopeful that he would call and say that there was nothing to worry about and to carry on, but it makes me nervous that they want to revisit the situation in a few months. Routine, maybe.
When all of this started to unfold, I kind of fell apart with it. How could all of this be happening to my sweet dad. The man is a model for good health and happiness (with the exception of a lifestyle of good ole southern cooking that I adore as well). Even through my initial tears and heartbreak, he has remained confident that everything will be just fine. If you know my dad at all, this is exactly what you would expect him to say. I did sense that he was strained by the pain his family was experiencing, so I made a conscious decision to keep my tears private and just be there for him.
So, in the midst of our grief and personal despair, our girl Stella is a star after all. I know that the thought of meeting her brings a bright spot to all of our lives. Though many of our experiences unfortunate, maybe it all has happened in the time that it should.
May 2, 2008
April 14, 2008
Two down, one to go
Week 28Welcome to the third trimester. Stella is extra busy these days, and from the looks of it, extra big, too. Markana has received some comments that because she's carrying Stella low, it might be a boy. I hope he likes yellow sweaters.
April 3, 2008
26 Weeks
So, we went for an ultrasound today and found out that the placenta has shifted. Hooray! The doctor said that everything looks perfect and we are all set to move forward with a vaginal birth. No Cesarean. This is fantastic news. (I bet you never thought you would hear so much about a person's placenta)
Now, I must deal with the politics of abandoning my OBGYN. She has been so wonderful to me throughout this crazy adventure, but we just do not share the same point of view of my desired birth. We spoke with her about the hypnobirth at out last appointment and did not receive a "warm and fuzzy" feeling from her. We are so excited about the birth, and know what we want, so we have to seek out a more suitable person to share this with us. Our first stop will be at Vanderbilt Hospital with a nurse midwife. More later on that, but any advise on how to I should let my doctor know that I will no longer need her services is much appreciated.
Meanwhile, I also learned today that I have gained 17 pounds. Wow! Is this normal? Considering I have 3 months to go, I think I better slow down on the sweets. But the gelato at work is so delicious!
Lastly, in the ultrasound today Stella was sitting upright inside me- on her little toosh. That just makes me smile.
Now, I must deal with the politics of abandoning my OBGYN. She has been so wonderful to me throughout this crazy adventure, but we just do not share the same point of view of my desired birth. We spoke with her about the hypnobirth at out last appointment and did not receive a "warm and fuzzy" feeling from her. We are so excited about the birth, and know what we want, so we have to seek out a more suitable person to share this with us. Our first stop will be at Vanderbilt Hospital with a nurse midwife. More later on that, but any advise on how to I should let my doctor know that I will no longer need her services is much appreciated.
Meanwhile, I also learned today that I have gained 17 pounds. Wow! Is this normal? Considering I have 3 months to go, I think I better slow down on the sweets. But the gelato at work is so delicious!
Lastly, in the ultrasound today Stella was sitting upright inside me- on her little toosh. That just makes me smile.
March 21, 2008
Peace and Love
It seems that I may have offended some people with my latest entry. You must know that it certainly was not my intention. We started this blog as an opportunity to document our experiences through this process - a journal if you will.
What a wondrous life that we all get to live filled with choices and experiences that are our own. At the time of that entry, I was battling my own frustration of outside voices being projected on my choices. Choices that have been dear to my heart, and I, too, have been offended.
What a gift, as women, that we have the opportunity to make decisions about our bodies and childbirth. I am so thankful that I live in a city that has the resources that we need to help us learn through this process. I am most thankful that I have a loving and true companion to share this experience with. I know that we have never done this before, and Stella will come at her will, but if we all work together this will be a beautiful first memory for us all.
What a wondrous life that we all get to live filled with choices and experiences that are our own. At the time of that entry, I was battling my own frustration of outside voices being projected on my choices. Choices that have been dear to my heart, and I, too, have been offended.
What a gift, as women, that we have the opportunity to make decisions about our bodies and childbirth. I am so thankful that I live in a city that has the resources that we need to help us learn through this process. I am most thankful that I have a loving and true companion to share this experience with. I know that we have never done this before, and Stella will come at her will, but if we all work together this will be a beautiful first memory for us all.
Every child begins the world again.
- Henry David Thoreau
March 16, 2008
Dogs win!
I know everyone's been patiently awaiting the final results of our first visitor poll, Dogs vs. Cats.Dogs = 7
Cats = 3
It's clear that cats can only hope to be slightly less than half loved as much as dogs.
Don't forget to vote in our new poll: diapers.
March 13, 2008
Hypnobirthing - The Mongan Method
I knew that I wanted to do a natural birth. A very dear friend of mine has a beautiful daughter, Isla, birthed through the Mongan Method of Hypnobirthing. She had such a beautiful story to share about Isla's entry into our world and I always knew I would look into it for myself when the time came.
To me, it makes perfect sense. And the more I learn about it, the more I understand. I mean, is there anything more incredible than pregnancy and childbirth? The fact that Chip and I fell in love, married, decided that we wanted to share that love and have conceived a child is miraculous. But, the real miracle is that this little person inside me starts out as a ball of cells, develops and changes daily and after 9 months will be the size of a small pumpkin and will be ready to join us. I am pretty sure that after all of that, she knows how to find her way out. This is why I have chosen for Stella to have the birth that she wants. She'll let me know when she is ready.
In our class we are practicing deep meditation and relaxation. We are not hypnotized. We have seen several videos of births in our class, and for the most part the mother is completely silent. It looks as though she is sleeping. Even at 10 centimeters, there is a state is calm in the room. If you have ever watch an episode of Baby Story where the mother is in labor for 23 hours, exhausted, drugged, in stirrups and screaming - this is nothing like that.
Calm. Peace. Beautiful Baby.
The most difficult part of sharing this experience with others is the commentary that follows. There are some women and friends that assure me that I will be begging for the epidural. It is sad that women have become so used to being medicated by their physicians, that the thought of conceiving naturally seems wildly abnormal. Call me a hippy, call me crazy, call me whatever you like. But the thought of being so medicated as my child is being born that I feel nothing, and my child being medicated (as we are sharing a lifeline) and requiring a good slap on the ass to wake up, seems absolutely absurd to me.
*Side note: At our 18 week ultrasound, we also found out that I have placenta previa. We will have another ultrasound in 3 weeks to see if the placenta has moved up. If not, I will have no other choice than to have a cesarean. This is obviously not what we desire, but in the end will take a healthy baby no matter how she gets here.
To me, it makes perfect sense. And the more I learn about it, the more I understand. I mean, is there anything more incredible than pregnancy and childbirth? The fact that Chip and I fell in love, married, decided that we wanted to share that love and have conceived a child is miraculous. But, the real miracle is that this little person inside me starts out as a ball of cells, develops and changes daily and after 9 months will be the size of a small pumpkin and will be ready to join us. I am pretty sure that after all of that, she knows how to find her way out. This is why I have chosen for Stella to have the birth that she wants. She'll let me know when she is ready.
In our class we are practicing deep meditation and relaxation. We are not hypnotized. We have seen several videos of births in our class, and for the most part the mother is completely silent. It looks as though she is sleeping. Even at 10 centimeters, there is a state is calm in the room. If you have ever watch an episode of Baby Story where the mother is in labor for 23 hours, exhausted, drugged, in stirrups and screaming - this is nothing like that.
Calm. Peace. Beautiful Baby.
The most difficult part of sharing this experience with others is the commentary that follows. There are some women and friends that assure me that I will be begging for the epidural. It is sad that women have become so used to being medicated by their physicians, that the thought of conceiving naturally seems wildly abnormal. Call me a hippy, call me crazy, call me whatever you like. But the thought of being so medicated as my child is being born that I feel nothing, and my child being medicated (as we are sharing a lifeline) and requiring a good slap on the ass to wake up, seems absolutely absurd to me.
*Side note: At our 18 week ultrasound, we also found out that I have placenta previa. We will have another ultrasound in 3 weeks to see if the placenta has moved up. If not, I will have no other choice than to have a cesarean. This is obviously not what we desire, but in the end will take a healthy baby no matter how she gets here.
March 12, 2008
B - U - M - P
Week 23I know. We've been really bad about posting progress, but the second trimester is kinda boring. I did learn that the second trimester is made up of several mini-mesters: the cake-mester, the donut-mester, the cookie-mester...
The bigger news is that we've enrolled in a hypobirthing class. I'm really enjoying the classes for their application to everyday life, and I'm excited about what it means for bringing Stella into the world. Markana will write more soon about her thoughts and hopes for a natural birth.
February 14, 2008
February 7, 2008
Meet Stella Rose Jordan
Well, here she is. I guess all the prognosticators were right. (except Jessica)
Markana and I had our 18th-week visit this morning. We not only found out the sex, but that everything looks good, healthy and on track. A great relief.
For the first time, I was the nervous wreck and she was the calm one. For some reason, I started getting nervous last night and it carried over into this morning. Anyone who knows our story understands our worries to this point, but even though we're statistically in the clear, I found myself jittery and impatient. The first glimpse of the heartbeat settled me.
(yes, I hear the comments flooding in from the experienced, "It's your first of many worries for your child...")
So from here it's all pretty normal, I guess. Another simple check up in four weeks, and another ultrasound four weeks later. Can't wait to see her again.
scary face
little feetFebruary 2, 2008
Charles Finnigan, in memoriam
My Grandfather, Charles William Finnigan, died on December 13, 2007, and this recent weekend was spent in Orlando, Florida, at a memorial service honoring his life and our memories.
Problem is, I don't really have any.
I have memories of visiting when I was younger: a trip to Disney, paddle boat rides on the lake, early computer games, coy fish in his backyard pond, heat, seeing Saturn's rings through a telescope, swimming, fresh-squeezed orange juice. Only a couple of these really involved him.
It might have been because I was too young and he was getting to old. It might have been because I was somewhat of a reclusive child, perfectly content to find entertainment on my own and by myself. It might have been that my interests and his were too different, and as a child, there was no such thing as a respect for differences, especially for someone so greatly removed from my day to day life.
Many people spoke at today's service and referenced his warmth, his humor, his sharp mind, his never-ending interest in space, math, problem-solving — I do remember these in degrees. However, I never knew the man who taught children to ride bikes; who encouraged learning of all sorts, even when it meant supporting dreams unlike his; who, seemingly out of character, sent a bouquet of flowers to a lonely daughter on Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, I mostly remember a man I wasn't very close to. And now, as I find myself at a point where family, learning and career are my passions, I think I could've been.
There are some questions I'd ask:
How did a scientific man trained in electrical engineering, mixed with a passion for the cosmos, reconcile thoughts of a god and religion?
What motivated him to explore new careers, even after leaving the profession of engineering later in life?
What politics did he tend to follow or support? Why?
Did he consider himself successful?
This makes me think about the living family members I still have (which are many) and, of course, the one Markana and I are about to meet. Most of us live many miles apart and, for all I know, 'many miles' means physically and mentally.
But that's just it; "for all I know".
Truth is, I don't.
I had hoped today, as I looked for the last time at my grandparents' backyard, a yard that now holds the mixed ashes of two people who spent 50+ years at each others' sides, I'd find a sense of sentimentality and connection. I stood silent and alone after our private ceremony, waiting for at least a slight understanding of the thread between us.
It didn't happen.
But then, inside my Grandfather's house with my living family, looking through old photos, organizing the hopes of genealogy projects gone astray, eating the birthday cake of my youngest niece, playing card games, talking, laughing - I found it. The connection we don't enjoy often enough; the unbreakable bond in spite of the differences in our everyday lives, politics or beliefs; the simple enjoyment of each other's company; the honest love I hope for in my family-to-be.
So after many years of not really knowing the man we honored today, I realized that, to me, an understanding of his life can simply mean positively contributing to the thoughts and deeds of the family circle he helped create. I hope I always remember the effects of his efforts.
Problem is, I don't really have any.
I have memories of visiting when I was younger: a trip to Disney, paddle boat rides on the lake, early computer games, coy fish in his backyard pond, heat, seeing Saturn's rings through a telescope, swimming, fresh-squeezed orange juice. Only a couple of these really involved him.
It might have been because I was too young and he was getting to old. It might have been because I was somewhat of a reclusive child, perfectly content to find entertainment on my own and by myself. It might have been that my interests and his were too different, and as a child, there was no such thing as a respect for differences, especially for someone so greatly removed from my day to day life.
Many people spoke at today's service and referenced his warmth, his humor, his sharp mind, his never-ending interest in space, math, problem-solving — I do remember these in degrees. However, I never knew the man who taught children to ride bikes; who encouraged learning of all sorts, even when it meant supporting dreams unlike his; who, seemingly out of character, sent a bouquet of flowers to a lonely daughter on Valentine's Day. Unfortunately, I mostly remember a man I wasn't very close to. And now, as I find myself at a point where family, learning and career are my passions, I think I could've been.
There are some questions I'd ask:
How did a scientific man trained in electrical engineering, mixed with a passion for the cosmos, reconcile thoughts of a god and religion?
What motivated him to explore new careers, even after leaving the profession of engineering later in life?
What politics did he tend to follow or support? Why?
Did he consider himself successful?
This makes me think about the living family members I still have (which are many) and, of course, the one Markana and I are about to meet. Most of us live many miles apart and, for all I know, 'many miles' means physically and mentally.
But that's just it; "for all I know".
Truth is, I don't.
I had hoped today, as I looked for the last time at my grandparents' backyard, a yard that now holds the mixed ashes of two people who spent 50+ years at each others' sides, I'd find a sense of sentimentality and connection. I stood silent and alone after our private ceremony, waiting for at least a slight understanding of the thread between us.
It didn't happen.
But then, inside my Grandfather's house with my living family, looking through old photos, organizing the hopes of genealogy projects gone astray, eating the birthday cake of my youngest niece, playing card games, talking, laughing - I found it. The connection we don't enjoy often enough; the unbreakable bond in spite of the differences in our everyday lives, politics or beliefs; the simple enjoyment of each other's company; the honest love I hope for in my family-to-be.
So after many years of not really knowing the man we honored today, I realized that, to me, an understanding of his life can simply mean positively contributing to the thoughts and deeds of the family circle he helped create. I hope I always remember the effects of his efforts.
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