A star in the making

October 27, 2009

What a great weekend :) Friday night, Grandma and Grandpa Rabe arrived to spend the weekend. Saturday marked Calista's first charity event (as a child, instead of a fetus) - she, five of my girlfriends, three of Calista's little friends and I took part in the Komen Race for the Cure (along with 25,000+ other hopeful people). And Sunday was Calista's first photo shoot. When we left, we weren't sure how the photos were going to turn out because she was a bit timid and a bit tired and simply not very smiley as she had been. Even still, we think the little lady did pretty well. Here's a short video of where we landed - enjoy!

Change is gonna come

August 31, 2009

It has been a long while since my last post. Even though I've not yet gotten a shower in today because Calista's had a rough day, so far, I thought it was time to FINALLY get some photos posted so you can see her progress... especially since today is t minus eight days until I return to work and CBB starts her first day as a "big girl" at daycare (go away tears!)

Beware! The little 4 pound, 11 ouncer you remember has changed a lot! Dare I call her chunkified?? Probably not... but as she nears a weight nearly double her birth weight, it's tempting :)

7/23/09: Spening time in her nursery with Dad - for the first time!

7/24/09: Her first full day home from the NICU - despite a restless night, she looks very refreshed!7/26/09: Chris and my sixth wedding anniversary! We couldn't have asked for a more perfect angel to celebrate!

7/27/09: Near perfection!

7/27/09: Psyched to go for a car ride!

7/29/09: This is love :)

7/30/09: Look at those peepers!

7/30/09: His eye is on the prize!

7/31/09: Daddy thinks she looks delicious!

8/2/09: Calista loves her Grandma Rabe! We had a BBQ and pool party at our house - Calista got to join the fun outside, but with the heat, her pants came off and she got to show off her pretty little legs!

8/3/09: After a meal, she's as happy as can be!

8/4/09: Freshly bathed... so serene!

8/5/09: Franklin borrowed Calista's bib. They're great pals, eh? What's ironic is that Frank is more than three times Calista's size :)


8/6/09: A cozy moment with Daddy :)

8/06/09: "I see you!" Calista enjoying Ashton's swing!

8/7/09: It's time for a wardrobe change... here's intermission :) She's getting longer and more filled out every day!!

8/8/09: Happy 95th Birthday Great Grandpa Marvin Rabe!! Four generations here!

8/9/09: Our first full family portrait on the Robanabe farm in Minnesota with the boys, Parker and Franklin.

And here's a couple with the newest Beck member:

8/11/09: If you didn't know she was stretching here, you may think she is busting a move in her panda outfit (thanks Jessie, Nick and Haley!):

8/11/09: Priceless.
8/12/09: Fun in the tub - she looks like she's ready for Broadway - just needs a little work on those jazz hands!

8/21/09: She loves auntie Kari and Grandpa Rabe too!

8/22/09: Ready for a walk with mom, aunie Kari and the boys!

8/23/09: Daddy created a makeshift bassinet... hey, must've been pretty comfortable! (It's a diaper box... size newborn, which still fit her very well).

8/24/09: Like her legs? they are so much more filled out!!
8/26/09: In her sling - the only thing that kept her happy that morning!

8/27/09: Happy Birthday Grandpa Bob Rabe - thinking of you!

8/28/09: Keeing the PEACE alive:

8/28/09: I'm pretty sure they were singing something from Fiddler on the Roof...? (Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match...)

8/31/09: Saying a prayer... and giving mom a break :)

Milestones

07/23/09

http://roxibeck.blogspot.com/

Today was a big day - we brought our baby girl home from the NICU at Blank Children's Hospital, more than two weeks prior to her due date!

Here we are: ready for our first journey with Calista Bella, literally!

Paving her own path...

07/21/09

http://roxibeck.blogspot.com/

Continuing her quest to pave her own path in life, Chris and I came into her hospital room this morning to find that she had decided she didn’t need her feeding tube anymore.

Yep… she pulled it out! (This is something the nurses told us happens from time to time). We had asked because she is very good with getting her fingers wrapped around anything she can find.) Guess she thinks she knows better than the doctors and feels it’s not necessary anymore. You can see the tube in her hand (Chris decided we needed an action shot for dramatic effect and put it there) and the one piece of tape still attached to her face that was holding it in place. The nurse has yet to put it back in (YAY!) and the doctor said we can try to do as many feedings as we want without it (nursing/bottle). Seems they’re open to suggestion. Jeez… guess we should have told Calista to try this earlier!

She had another idea today… not only to try to take back her nose, but to escape! That’s right! We brought in our car seat to be approved (they don’t let you leave without it!)… and she decided to hop in to try it out. Ok, not really. They put her in it. But the good news is that she passed her breathing test (sleep in the seat for an hour and have healthy respiration) with flying colors. Baby steps…

Even with these shenanigans, she managed to take all of her "goal feeding" at 9 a.m. (40 ccs) and at noon (45 ccs). Superb!

Now, she’s back in the crib making tweaks to her master plan as she stares me down…

We’re really hopeful Calista will be coming home in the next couple days. She’s been doing extremely well with eating her meals, is gaining weight (she’s now above her birth weight, weighing in at 4 pounds, 12.8 ounces) and hasn’t had any “bumps” since early last week.

Vistitors: Aunt Sarah and Uncle Paul

July 20, 2009

Calista got to meet her Aunt Sarah and Uncle Paul this past weekend as they visited us in Des Moines. We spent a lot of quality time with Calista, including a visit today just before lunch - YIKES! They tried to eat her!

Here's a shot when they weren't so hungry:

Calista got a bath last night so her hair was lacking some natural scalp oils today... here's a shot of her flyaway "crown hair."

I Said I Love Surprises...

July 7, 2009

Many posts ago, I talked about the fact that Chris and I weren't going to find out whether we were having a boy or a girl. I L-O-V-E surprises, so why would I want to ruin one of life's only true surprises for myself? Luckily, Chris was along for the ride and also thought it would be fun to find out on delivery day. Well, as it turns out, our little bean is FULL of surprises!

Aside from the whole Kansas City debacle, where Baby Beck tried to make a grand entrance 187 miles from home, we were in store for many more surprises courtesy of the little gem.

On Friday, July 3, I went into labor. Contractions started just after 9 a.m. but were not consistent in time apart, duration or pain level. As the day went on, they became more intense, more frequent and lasted longer. But, they weren't any more frequent than eight to 12 minutes apart. When we talked with the doctor, it was recommended we continue the labor at home since it would be more comfortable there than at the hospital. (More on that later!) I labored all night... Chris did his best to comfort me (thanks honey) while serving as the official "book-keeper" of the times and duration of the contractions. On Saturday (Happy Independence Day!), the contractions were still present and building. Then waning. Then building. Then building more... and more...

This continued until about 8 p.m. when I couldn't NOT call the hospital again. At this point, my contractions were still six to eight minutes apart. They recommended I drink a quart of water and to continue to monitor contractions. They advised that if they became increasingly intense (definitely!) with less time in between (uh-huh!) and lasted longer each time (check!), that I should consider coming in. I made it another two hours. Here's my final "belly shot."

Once 10:00 p.m. hit, it was go time. I could barely throw together the very few items I needed (shoes, purse, phone) in between contractions. Meanwhile, Chris was a champ and gathered all the remaining must have items in case this was actually the "real deal." It was go-time.

We got to the hospital around 10:30 p.m. in true movie style... except I wasn't being wheeled in sitting in a wheelchair. I walked. (I thought the wheelchair would take too long, plus, the bumpy ride was the last thing I needed at that point. Being in an SUV with perfectly functional shocks was bad enough!)

As we came upon the admission desk lined with nurses returning blank stares, I started yet another contraction. They quickly got to work asking about my name, social security number, date of birth and pediatrician (that's what I remember at least). We were taken to a triage room for observation. There, I was given a couple injections to try to slow/stop the contractions. As well, I was instructed to drink two more quarts of water. I did. None of these did anything to stop the progression. I was held for observation for the entire night (i.e. I received no pain medicine as was not officially a patient).

After spending another night battling contractions, I was very relieved to actually be admitted to the hospital on Sunday morning, July 5. In sum, this meant I could finally have some pain relief! After getting settled in my new, very spacious, birthing room (this is the room where I would stay the remainder of the time, including during delivery), I received new "adornments" - an IV, a baby heart monitor and a blood pressure cuff. The most exciting was the IV - because I could finally receive some relief from the growing intensity of each contraction. This relief came fast, but was short. I was having back labor and the pain was greater than any I've ever felt. The nurse would help reposition me for different stages of the labor and for the different pains I was experiencing. Sometimes the pain started in my back - which allowed me to prepare my breathing and get through the contraction easier. Sometimes the contraction would hit my front and there was no preparation... it was all I could do to take one breath during those. After each contraction was on the downslope, my round ligaments would tense up and this was the worst part because there wasn't any position or breathing that would lessen the pain. By this time, I'd had three doses of the pain medication via IV and it was complely worn off. It was then that I was told I couldn't receive any more of that.

At that point, I needed to make a decision if I wanted pain relief: get a morphine injection and potentially slow everything down (2 hours to 24 hours was the range I was given... though they said with the way I was progressing that the 2 hour timeframe was much more likely) or they could break my water and keep the labor moving which would allow for me to receive an epidural and welcome Baby Beck sooner rather than later.

Given the look on Chris's face and the fact that the doctor didn't feel there would be any real developmental benefits for the baby if I would get the morphine injection and hope to fend off progression, I opted to "get on with it" and have my water broken.

Once my water was broken, it was game time. I moved from five to seven centimeters... and then opted to "not be a hero" and get an epidural. Note: I do not recommend getting a contraction while the anesthesiologist is inserting the epidural. Like one can help it...

My Mom and Dad had arrived and since Chris hadn't eaten all day, he and Dad ran out to grab some sandwiches. By the time they came back to the room, I had progressed to eight centimeters and was in a terrible amount of pain - worse than before. The contractions were more intense, lasted longer and were coming faster than before. Mom and Dad left and Chris stuck around to offer his hand (which suffered many a smashing throughout the three days of contractions) and hear what the medical team had to say about the increasing pain. The nurse had me shift to my side to focus the epidural on my left pain - where I was feeling the most pain. Unfortunately, that provided no relief. As I fought through another series of contractions, my doctor said that I just may be ready to push.

WHAT?! After further investigation, it was confirmed - I had reached 10 centimeters. It was time. I was instructed that on the next contraction, I was to push. And push I did. After 58 hours of labor... my eye was on the prize and I was not going to let more time slip away. Twelve minutes later... I had my prize... a baby girl.

At 6:42 p.m. on Sunday, July 5, 2009, Chris and I welcomed a 4 pound, 11 ounce and 18.5 inch little bundle. Her name is Calista Bella Beck.

What a SURPRISE!

A change of pace

June 26, 2009


This last week has brought a definite change of pace for the Beck household. Call it an intervention from God, bad luck, a blessing in disguise or an ironic sequence of mishaps. Whatever it was I'm not a fan, and not planning on getting in this situation again (that is, if I have any say over it).

Let me back up.


Two weekends ago (June 12-15), my Mom and Dad (the future Gma and Gpa Rabe) were in Des Moines for the weekend - to help with baby prep and to spend some quality time with Chris and me as we transition from a couple to a "real-live family." Of course, they also came to give Franklin and Parker (our little boys in puppy suits) a dose of love and attention. The boys tell quite the stories about never getting any attention, or treats, or back rubs.... but in reality, they're quite spoiled. That discussion will be for another time, though.


The four of us (M, D, C, R) headed to a Des Moines Barnstormers (indoor arena league football) game that Saturday night. That's when the dramas started. For purposes of getting through the many bumps, here's a recap of the events that ensued...

• Saturday between 7:00 and 10:00 p.m.: My wallet was stolen from my purse.
• Call restaurant, call Wells Fargo arena, call ice cream shop (all places we'd been earlier); no bones.
• Sulk over lost cash ($250+) and gift cards ($400+).
• Curse self for carrying all that stuff to an indoor football game (normally would've changed purses, but he day had gotten away from us with all the shopping).
• Cancel all credit cards, checking account, debit accounts; report library card, health insurance card lost/stolen. (Since mom had a similar experience two years ago, I was inspired to keep a listing of all my credit/debit/etc. account information and phone numbers for those accounts in our safe. This made the process much easier, but no less painful. That said... I recommend it to everyone.)
• File police report; all hope is reduced to "less than one-tenth of one percent" b/c that's what the officer tells me about the likely populous that will 'do the right thing.'
• Sunday: continue trying to figure out WHEN it could have happened; nil.
• AGAIN... call restaurant, call WF arena, call ice cream shop; nada.
• Monday: 9:00 a.m. Visit lost and found; Big Fat NOTHING.
• 9:30 a.m.: Proceed to bank to finish setting up new checking,, savings and debit accounts (b/c they couldn't finish on the phone on Saturday night)
• 11:30 a.m.: Proceed to Adel driver's license bureau (b/c Polk county is CLOSED ON MONDAYs. STUPID.)
• 12:55 p.m.: FINALLY get my license (after walking in, got number 49, they were serving number 39). When it turned noon, one of the two workers went on lunch break… i.e….pace slowed double; four people who were taking driving or written tests that had been there before me finished up, so got to become lodged back into the line… worker had to grade them BY HAND, allow them to review tests, take pictures and grant new licenses to those who passed - 2 of 4). The whole experience there was like a scene from a Ben Stiller movie... where EVERYthing that can go wrong does.
• 12:57 p.m. try to check in for flight online via mobile phone; no bones - error with site. Contact AA customer service mobile help and they say it'll be fine and that I'll get confirmation shortly.
• 1:25 p.m.: No confirmation; call AA general customer service; they won't check me in.
• 1:35 p.m.: Get home, co-worker drops off materials from office, throw in my baggage; SPEED to airport.
• 1:48 p.m.: Arrive at airport; attendant will not let me check in… says it's too late… says there's nothing she can do about it.
• I CRY. This was the "straw." Yes... I realize it was silly to cry... but this was the breaking point.
• 1:49 p.m.: Get booked standby on 3:45 flight that has 15 extra seats remaining.
• 2 p.m.: Do lunch with M&D; decide I have enough time to drive myself to airport so that I won't have to burden Chris with picking me up on Wednesday when I return.
• 2:45: Get home, transfer carry-on to my car. Go to start car. CAR WON'T START!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
• 2:48: Get BACK into M&D's trusty Highlander and head BACK to DSM airport.
• 3:25: Get through security without any issue; approach gate C6 - no listing for Chicago flight. Visit attendee's stand to inquire about flight. Conversation:
  R: I'm wondering about the 3:45 flight to Chicago
  A: Yeah?
  R: My ticket says it's supposed to board at C6, but-
  A: IT is…. The plane's right there (points out window)
  R: OK… but it's not listed on any of the display boards (only a 4 p.m. flight to STL was listed on the C6 display and all other flights on other gates were going to Dallas)
  A: Well, it's a brand new flight as of yesterday, so it's probably not updated yet.
• I presume that was my fault for asking… another flyer commented that apparently we're not allowed to NOT know this kind of stuff. Lovely.
• I wasn't going to push it and ask another question (…. Am I going to be able to fly standby…) because I thought she'd tell me I have to wait anyway. I wait until all other passengers board (that's how standby works) and visit the same lovely attendant who is now accepting ticket for the flight. She sends me back to ticket counter where two other ladies now stand. I am given my boarding pass without issue just as one agent is telling the other, "I'm serious… it's a full moon … there's got to be with the way people are acting"
  I could NOT agree more.
• Get to Chicago 4:40 local time; get checked luggage; wait, and wait, and Wait and Wait and WAIT for shuttle. Missed the first one the moment I was heading out the door; the second one FLIES past me. Jerk. Talk to Chris; says he was trying to get a special something sent to my hotel - some chocolate, a rose, a massage…. Etc… but couldn't locate the hotel information. His thoughtfulness makes me cry, again.
• Phone dies… when considering calling the hotel again.
• THIRD shuttle's a charm - 30 minutes after the LAST shuttle whizzed by (the hotel said they come by every 15 minutes. Right.)
• Get to hotel and settled into my room at 6:20 p.m….
• Dinner and prep for meeting with stand-in (as the scheduled meeting facilitator was suddenly unable to attend due to death in the family).
• 8:30 p.m.: return to room to focus on positives in life and finish work.
• 12:30 a.m. Turn in for the evening... Tuesday's a big day.

The rest of my time in Chicago (Mon-Weds) brought me just over eight hours of sleep (i.e. not nearly enough). After a good close to the meeting, it was time to shift to the other work I'd not been focusing on, since I had been tied up. Thursday I was back in the office for a "normal" work day. Friday, our Des Moines crew "punched in" at 5 a.m. to get an industry "special report" out to our clients. We then headed to Kansas City for a team meeting around 6:30 a.m. Arriving at 9:30, we finalized and sent out the report. Our team meeting started around 10 a.m. and we were having a great time learning about all the exciting initiatives we were all working on, the new team members we'd gained and the plan of attack as we moved into the second half of the year.

At 3 p.m., we took a break. I'd been feeling wonderful, albeit tired, but when I stood up, I knew something was wrong. Something had definitely changed. I'll spare the details, but in short, I quickly realized something wasn't normal. After calling my doctor, I was asked, "Can you be to the downtown location (Des Moines) in 15 minutes?" KC is three hours from DSM. I was instructed to go to a local hospital immediately. Two of my co-workers became aware of the situation and quickly helped me pick up the pieces, gather my things and quickly transported me to the nearest hospital which was less than 10 minutes away.

Once at the hospital, the blur set in. Some highlights:

• Very nice nurses
• Exam reveals that I'm 1.5 cm dialated and 60% effaced
• Baby heart monitors and my persistently moving belly reveal baby is healthy, active and stable
• Monitors on me reveal that I'm contracting every 5-7 minutes.

Because of the stats, and because I was only at 32 weeks and 6 days, the medical team determined that I was in pre-term labor. They proceeded to give me magnesium sulfate - a muscle relaxant used to help stop contractions which also makes you feel like you have the flu. As well, because there was a risk that the baby could still be delivered, they started steroid treatments (total of two shots, 24 hours apart). These help the baby's lungs, intestines and brain develop to their fullest extent, should it decide "it's time."

Chris arrived at the hospital a couple hours later - just before the medical team decided there was enough of a threat that the baby would be making its grand entrance. They felt it was in the best interest of everyone to transfer me to another hospital in downtown KC that has a level 3 Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. An ambulance ride later, I was stationed in a birthing room, still breathing through contractions and still extremly painfully aware of the fact that this was not supposed to happen this way.

Over night, the contractions slowed, lessened in intensity and finally stopped altogether. I was held all of Saturday for observation, another steroid injection and many pricks and prods including 4 IV entrances, antibiotics - "just in case", a RhoGAM shot and many exams. Saturday afternoon, after I had been stable for several hours, a neonatologist came in to tell us all about "what will happen when the baby's born." Excuse me?? She described the likely condition of the babe, the challenges it would face being premature, the milestones it would have to meet.... I had to stop her about five minutes into her schpiel. Conversation went omething like:

• "Did something with my status change that's making you believe that I'm going to deliver this baby?"
• "No. But my job is not to know what is going on with you - it's to take care of the baby you could be delivering here. You need to know what condition this baby could be in, should it decide to come out."
• "Ok." (I then proceeded to focus only on the sound of the baby's heart monitor, as I couldn't face the prospect of having a baby in a NICU three hours from home.

The best part was Sunday morning. Among the lack of answers from doctors and nurses about when I was likely to be released, we finally had some resolve. Because I'd been stable, and because baby was happy and healthy, I was going to be released. That afternoon, that's exactly what happened. Chris and I followed the doctor's instructions to a tee (do not pass go... do not collect $300), and speedily went straight home.

For the last week, I've been on bedrest. This is one of the most difficult things I've done in a LONG time. I don't do the whole "couch potato" thing very well. When at home, I'm usually on the go, especially lately with baby prep.

I've been cleared to get back to my "normal" schedule next week. But what is most important is that I need to learn to slow down, pace myself, know that it's ok to not accomplish EVERYthing on my list of to-dos all in one day... I'll be back to work next week, but focusing on mini-goals, getting in and out of the office at "normal" times and knowing that tomorrow will bring a fresh slate. This will be great practice for when BB does arrive.

Where's the beef? Er... baby?

6/2/09

"You're HOW far along?" "You should be MUCH bigger - maybe waddling by now!"

I've been hearing a lot of this lately. The thing is, I'm a tall lady... and I have a long torso. I've a lot of room for the little bean to stretch out, shift and grow. And maybe this baby's going to be small. Just because Chris and I are not tiny people doesn't mean that's not possible to have a 6-pounder, right? The biggest worry I have is that BB's head will be ginormous. I can hear the remnants of a Chris Farley song coming now... "Big head on a little bod..."

Here's the latest belly shot:

Just 2 months and 6 days left now until we meet our little Baby Beck!

A Classic Debate

It's week 23 now, and we've been told by all the baby expert Web sites that it's time to start considering names for our growing bean.


Since we opted to not find out whether we're having a "Johnny" or a "Jane" (see 3/29 post) we need to prepare two options (or sets of options at this point) for Baby Beck's grand entrance in August.


Chris maintains that if it's a She-Ra, I can pick any name I fancy. But if it's a He-Man, he's got a specific request - he wants the little man to have his initials. I'm not exactly sure why this matters... but hey, that's a reasonable request! It seems a nice and subtle way for daddy and baby to bond through a really simplistic vehicle. Chris's initials are C.A.B. Not only have we explored what we feel is every potential option for names that begin with "C" - we used to have a short list of "C" names that worked for us both. But since then, Chris has entered into the realm of baby name inventing... and feels he's come up with the perfect name. In fact, it's one he's had on his mind for a really long time - way before we were even seriously talking about becoming parents of Baby Beck. He loves the name so much that I am convinced, if we knew it were going to be a boy, he'd already have the rattle engraved and the name on the wall. This has been a discussion in the Beck household for some time. In fact, some of you may have even heard us talk about it...

So, what's the name...? (DRUMROLL PLEASE) "Classic." (GASP!?!)

"Eh?" you ask....

That's not a typo. Not kidding. No need to adjust your screen. He's not saying that the "C" name is a classic... "Classic" is the name. And he's COMPLETELY serious. I would not joke about this.

He thinks my push-back on the name is because I'm too afraid what others think. That I'm buckling under peer pressure. The reality is that I don't think it's a name at all. It's an adjective... and as a stretch, a noun. There's a reason names, even those that qualify as nouns, like "Apple" never become popular. Because they're not names at all. And they're outrageous. It's hard enough to find current names that work at all stages of the baby's life... let alone trying to invent one that fits that bill.

I have to give him credit for wanting to give our first born a meaningful and unique name. I, too, want this. That said, there's a line I'm not comfortable crossing. Specifically, one that:

• Sets our little bean up for potential failure: Classic means "the original." What if BB doesn't become an inventor? In fact... what if he ends up doing something extremely ordinary? No, not likely, but it could happen.
• Positions our BB for a lifetime of "same name" situations: In a grocery store - "Classic Potato Lays" and "Coca-Cola Classic," at community festivals "Classic Car Show," in the realm of the fine arts "Classic music concert"... the list goes on.
• Makes it really difficult to name future babes: Imagine being baby number two... what would we name it? "Runner up," "secondary," "the sequel"... I can't imagine.

Anyway, something pivotal happened. We (Chris) finally agreed that "Classic" isn't going to be the name for this babe, should it be a boy. Phew!! It was really starting to make me nervous (to the point that I'd enlisted some of his co-workers to intercept the birth certificate should it be a little man). He was SO set on the name, and I'm bummed that I can't agree to it. But, I think after getting several reactions that weren't exactly rooting on his choice, it started to weigh on him.

So, while we can't report what the name will be, we are in agreement (for now) about what it won't be. Here's a list of for-sure nots:

• Classic
• Clint
• Chuck
• Curtis
• Clancy
• Conrad
• Carter
• Colby
• Cordell
• Chris
• Chance
• Chase
• Chip
• Casper
• Cabe
• Cade
• Cadence
• Corbin

We have a short-ish list of other "C" names we're still considering. And you'll all know soon enough, where we land on the subject.

Now onto the little lady names...

Baby Beware

So "baby daddy" and I had our first baby preparation class last night (5/26). The class was all about basic baby care. You know - changing loaded diapers, bathing the slippery little bundle, calming the squirmy and distressed babe, etc.

We were one of about 15 couples - and the only one armed with a camera. Hey... it's important we take good "notes." It will enable us to reference them when times are tough, when we're too tired to blink and when we question our ability to really be good parents to the little bean.

The class was three hours - with time in the middle to "get our hands dirty" with the dramas only a plastic doll can offer. One station was to practice diapering. It was here that we both promptly and efficiently took our babies and diapers and assembled them into happy duos. We even took care to not rub the top of the diapers against the babies' healing umbilical cord "stumps." Since we had some extra time at this station, Chris felt it necessary to not waste any time by letting the little plastic bodies just lie there on the table. No, no. This was the perfect opportunity to set up a pseudo-fight scene. Like I said... good thing we had the camera to capture the important parts... :)

This photo came at the end of the fight, where baby A was standing over (and, naturally, rubbing defeat in the face of) baby B, celebrating his victory.

Next up: the five "s" station - that is, the ways to calm baby through the letter "s" (just like Sesame Street, no?) - swaddle, side, ssshhhhh, swing, suck.

At this station, it was our important duty to master the swaddling technique then continue with the rest of the four s's to ensure the plastic babies were as calm as possible before they were stowed away back in their plastic crates for the next class of soon-to-bes.

I felt my swaddling abilities were excellent (or will get there, in time), but I didn't display my pride in wrap-man-ship quite as proudly as Chris. Though, I will say, my technique in cradling the baby in a swinging motion was much better than his...

Certainly we both have much to learn (really, we already thoroughly understand that plastic babies' heads are not nearly as gripable as those of our plastic victims from last night) - and those lessons will come with practice, laughs, hope, luck, probably some frustration - but mostly, with love. And we can't wait!