Julian William Pallas Velo Dunn-Dietrich

Julian - because it suits him. It is sweet and he is saintly.

William, after my dad and our midwife.

Pallas: An owl visited our backyard the morning he was born and hooted, hooted, hooted. The owl is closely associated with the ancient greek goddess, Pallas Athene. In France, the owl is also a symbol associated with midwives, who oftentimes are nocturnal, too. I've NEVER had an owl in our backyard - we've had them at Granny's, but never here in Palisade. Definitely a sign, a good omen.

Velo: Hello? From Velocipede, bicycle, latin for "swift foot." Julian definitely came into the world with a quickness!

Welcome to the World, Sweet Julian!

The morning Julian was born, after Andrew and Granny had fallen asleep with Cecilia and Francesca, Maran had left and Bill was loading his things into his car, there was a resounding "hoo-hoo-hoo-hooooo, hoooo," outside my bedroom window. An owl had come to sing to Julian and I, hours after his birth. My first thought was that the Dine' think the owl is a very bad omen . . . but I pushed the thought out of my mind and decided that this was a good omen. Julian made it into the world and an owl had come to welcome him. Later, my auntie Kathie found some stuff about the owl being a good, strong omen, a symbol of wisdom and heroic endeavor. (Thanks KJ!) I really want to journal Julian's birth, so that I don't forget things, but the final moments of his birth were pretty hairy, so I guess its not a story for the faint at heart. I feel sick to my stomach when I think too hard about his birth . . . mostly when I think what could've been, so let's just not go there! But here's his story - as best as I can remember it:

I felt a bit odd all day Sunday. Having read that ultrasound due dates can be as much as two weeks off, and feeling like my baby wasn't big enough to be born yet, I ignored the obvious signs of early labor and went about my day. Sunday night, after the girls were fast asleep and my laundry was folded, I crawled into bed at about 10:30 and labor began. My surges started out 14 minutes apart, steadily moving closer together. I called Bill right away and told him that I definitely wanted him to come as soon as possible, as I didn't want him to miss the birth. I then phoned Maran Perry, our friend and hypnobirthing Doula. She said she had been on antibiotics and shouldn't be contagious (with walking pneumonia.) I told her I'd call her back after doing some research about it, and then called her back to say come on over, if you don't mind wearing a germ mask. She agreed, although I'm sure it wasn't fun for her to wear it all night.

We phoned my mom and she arrived first. My labor progressed much the same as Francesca's labor. I was smiling, talking, having a good time and breathing down the baby with every surge. I felt like I was holding some tension below and I'm not sure if I was trying to be quiet, trying not to wake the girls, or if I didn't want to make a mess. After 3 1/2 hours or so of relaxed labor, I was ready to go. My water broke and there was a lot of it. The baby's head presented itself and we all looked and felt the baby coming into the world. Then, something started to not feel right. The birth chair/bar, the ball, squatting, kneeling, all fours, nothing felt right. I couldn't get comfortable, so I tried getting on all fours. I felt the baby float up, and then back down again. During the next surge, the cord presented itself before his head.

Bill told me we had a cord, and he made attempts to push it back up or relieve some of the pressure on the cord. He told someone to call 911. A prolapsed cord is rare, (1/1000) he had only seen it once before in his 25 year career and that was with artificially ruptured membranes. Most midwives probably will never see it. He made another excruciating attempt to push the cord back in, and/or relieve the pressure on the cord so that the baby's oxygen supply wouldn't be cut off. It was more than I could stand so he told me I had to just push the baby out, and fast. My contractions stopped completely. Maran said that with any mammal, if confronted with fear during labor, labor will shut down, so that the mammal can escape from impending danger. I waited for a contraction, but nothing came, so I pushed. I pushed his head out, and then his body. He was completely lifeless and he was so scrawny I couldn't believe it. I held him in my arms, and Andrew and I rubbed him, talked to him, blew in his face and in moments he began to try and breathe. Bill 'bagged' him with a breather thing a few times and then when he finally began to breathe, he put him on oxygen (we were both on oxygen.) All of this happened in 10 minutes. It took five minutes to push him out, from the time the cord presented itself, and five minutes to get him going. I was calm, through and through. I think I knew that there would be some challenge, or maybe I willed it, by giving the thought of something going wrong any energy at all. The what-ifs are so scary that I can't even think about them.

My mom fell apart, when I was trying to push him out. I looked up, thinking I couldn't do it, and saw her collapsing onto the bed and suddenly I had the strength of Wonder Woman and he was out. Andrew just kept telling me I was doing great, and that I could do it. He was strong. Bill was sure, assertive, and calm. I can't imagine keeping my cool the way he did, and at the same time being so assertive. He is truly amazing. I feel so blessed in so many ways, so many things happened just perfectly to let Julian join our family.

The paramedics looked like deer in the headlights. By the time they arrived, we didn't need them, but still had to reckon with them. If you call, they have to file a report with the hospital and give their DR boss the scoop and then its his call on what to do. Genevieve walked into the room with a smile on her face and after getting up to speed, went to bat for us to NOT be transferred to the hospital. Once Julian began breathing, his apgar score was 10 and he was fine. There was no reason for us to go to the hospital, except for their morbid curiosity

(tests, tests, tests and interrupted bonding/breastfeeding, germs, too many people, they would treat us like criminals, etc.) Luckily, Genevieve had two of her four children at home, so she and Bill together talking to the St. Mary's Doc were able to convince him that we didn't need transfer (a first for this doctor, "I've never left a baby," he said.) What are the chances that this woman would be a part of the Palisade paramedics team? I am so grateful. She came by on Wednesday and said that if it had been the chief, he would have made us transfer. I saw a glimpse of the chief in the hallway and he didn't look happy, but he wasn't in charge that night, Genevieve clearly was in charge. She's fighting St. Mary's on protocol for something like this, because she wasn't happy with how things went. What balls!

Later, after Julian calmed down (he cried for an hour - it was stressful for him!) he began to nurse. He has been nursing every hour or two ever since. He's filling out, his skin isn't hanging off his hands anymore. His cord wasn't doing the job. The placenta was on the small side and the place where the cord was connected to the placenta was in a weird spot. The vessels were just clinging onto the placenta, so we think that he wasn't getting enough food in there. Which would explain why I WA S so small. Not because I wasn't eating enough, clearly I had gained sufficient weight and was eating plenty of protein, but the cord just wasn't doing the job. Poor baby! Its hard not to beat myself up and say that I should have taken it easy and maybe the placenta and cord would've been better but, shoulda, coulda, woulda . . . maybe if Julian had been bigger, I wouldn't have been able to push him out at all . . . like I said, its hard to even think about all that, so . . .

So - I have a beautiful, healthy baby boy. I am the luckiest/blessed woman alive right now. I am so grateful for EVERYTHING in my life. From the sun that shines down, to the leaves that fall, to the full moon and my family, I am so, so grateful. My midwife couldn't have been more prepared and right on. I remember at one point in my pregnancy, talking with friends that had hospital births and thinking, maybe that's something I want to do? The stigma attached to a home birth is so intense, that maybe I just want to join the club and go to the hospital, but I trusted my gut and had a home birth - I am so grateful. A prolapsed cord in the hospital means cesarean and all of that takes time, and I believe that time was of the essence in Julian's birth. Had he been in utero longer, who knows? So, for Julian and I, it was best that he was born at home. Is home birth safer? Maybe - but I think that if I learned one thing from all from his birth it is that trusting your gut is always best. So, if it is best for one woman to trust her gut and have a hospital birth, then that is what is best for her. Its not always easy to trust your instincts, but I think that in the end, it is always worth it.

Probably that owl in our backyard was also doing just that - he thought he smelled a chicken dinner, but it was just the smell of Julian's heroic endeavor. Thank you, sweet Julian for coming into our world and lighting up our lives. We love you more than words can say.

Smoked Turkey Dinner - $6!

I'm taking a quick moment from folding piles and piles of laundry to post a quick blog.

We finished our decorations - they're pretty b*tchin'. It rained on our ghost, so the black magic marker face ran a little bit and ended up looking even better. The spiders are riding bicycles full of baskets of pumpkins.

Palisade had Feast in the Streets this weekend. Our neighbor, Ron's (also known as Captain Ron the painter) band, "Simmer Down" played in the plaza and there was food, vino, Bloody Mary's, lemonade/limeade, homemade goat cheeses, the remains of the fall produce, and Turkey Dinner $6.00! In Boulder, at 14th Street Bar and Grill they sell turkey dinners for $14 but today we ate a HUGE portion of smoked turkey, stuffing, gravy and homemade cranberry salad with strawberries for six dollars? I think he could have doubled his price and still sold out. I'm a sucker for anything with gravy. mmm.

I was feeling like I might be starting to go into labor, but since I sat down for a second, I don't think so. I just needed a rest! Sheesh! I feel so good and have so much energy that its hard to slow down. Plus, I don't exactly want my home to be a trashy mess when the baby arrives . . . what would the baby think? "Oh great - this is my slobby home? Greeaaat." Right - as if it matters to the baby, right? He/She won't mind if the playroom is a mess and there's clean laundry in baskets all over the bedroom.

Andrew is totally fed up with the chickens. Although we still don't have our new closet doors up, house isn't trimmed out, there are still three boxes left to unpack, spice rack isn't painted and hung, pictures still need hung, paint needs patching, bathroom needs paint, what do I want him to work on? The chicken coop . . . Poor Andrew thought he'd married a city girl or something, but why did I marry Andrew? Because he was a farm boy, that's why! He was even in FFA (Future Farmers of America - ala Napoleon Dynamite.) I have me a real farm boy. Unfortunately, he wanted to leave the farm behind him, so he's less than thrilled with my farming enthusiasm. He even had a nightmare that he divorced me because while pregnant, I bought 40 milking goats and he knew that once the baby came, the milking would default to him and so he was like, "I work 10 and 12 hour days! I can't get up and milk goats at 4am! I hate goats! I'm leaving you!" It is true that he hates goats, too. He can't stand goat cheese and detects even the slightest hint of it if I try and sneak it into my cooking. He thinks it tastes like hair. So knowing that he hates goats so much, I would never buy 40 milking goats. Now FOUR milking goats . . . now that's another story . . . ha!

My due date is the 30th, so I feel like I should be pregnant for at least another week. I read today about how even ultrasound due dates can be as much as two weeks off, due to the fact that different women gestate (and do everything else) at different rates, right? So I like the idea that I could be pregnant for another week or so. My Doula came down with a nasty cold/walking pnemonia/sinus infection and so I'm not sure I'll call her if I do go into labor, unless she's 100% better. Which is a bummer, because I was TOTALLY looking forward to the calming presence of a hynobirthing doula.

Friday Projects

We started making some scary spider decorations today for the outside of our house. Jackie (do I sound like a stalker yet?) had all these cool decorations when we went over there this week, so we're copying . . .

We made a cool ghost out of a white sheet, a metal tomato/topiary stand strung with white lights and a magic marker face ooooooh - scary! I'll post some pictures after I get the camera situation sorted out. We also started on some spiders - we made paper mache' bodies and tomorrow we'll make the legs and paint the spiders black. We want to make scarecrows too, but there's a giant to do list staring at me, so we shall see.

Francesca has taken to taking my camera and snapping pictures. Her pictures are actually really sweet. Daddy, me, Cecilia, with our heads cut off . . . trees, flowers, sage, leaves, whatever is out her car seat window - life through a child's eye. She even took some self portraits, which are my favorite. She's been drawing pictures of herself and us a lot lately, all with HUUUGE smiles on our faces. The first one she drew of herself, she had a huge smile and her tongue sticking out and then made the face for me . . . pretty good!

Happiness is Chicken Sh*t

We're taking Music Together classes again and there's this one simple song (they're all pretty simple) that goes, "Apples and cherries . . . peaches, blueberries . . . grapes and bananas . . . dee, dee, dee, dee, dee." EVERY TIME I hear it or just sing it in my head, I get teary eyed! Why would that song bring tears to my eyes? I think its just the simple, cheeriness of the song or that I just feel so overwhelmingly happy that by the time the song hits, "peaches," it reminds me of good ol' Palisade and I break into tears! Haha! Probably pregnant hormones have something to do with, too? I like to think I'm just so happy that a happy song makes me cry.

The girls and I shoveled out the chicken coop today, which as it turns out, is a really fun thing to do together (shoveling sh*t is fun!) I start out shoveling out the yucky outside chicken run into a garbage can (to go up to Granny's compost, because mine is full.) Today, while I did this, the girls played Bakery, Cecilia was Mary and she made pies all morning. She would shovel sand out of the sandbox into buckets and cups and flower pots and put them in the oven, somewhere. Soon, all the sand was shoveled out of the sandbox, (I gave up trying to stop this from happening) and soon the girls were ready to help with the chicken coop. We kept a close eye on Tornado, who has taken to trying to attack the girls while they raked all the wood chips into a pile so that I could shovel it into another trash can, to be sprinkled into the run. Then the girls poured fresh wood chips into the coop and raked it all about. Afterwards it was lunchtime and Cecilia was starving (who wouldn't be, without eating wheat or dairy, right?) I love pretending that our tiny chicken coop is our farm and we're tending our farm animals. I wish we had more chickens, but we really don't have room for more, unless we build a bigger run. We probably eat three or four dozen eggs/week, so if had only about three or four more chickens that laid everyday, then we'd be good to go. I'm thinking we'll just hatch some and let the hens do the brooding. According to Backyard Poultry, that's the way to go. Loving the Fall - looking forward to seeing cousins and aunties and uncles next month for Thxgivin'.

On a side note - I'm addicted to the www.soulemama.com blog . . . damn, that girl has it goin' on! Its really inspiring - she knits and makes her children cool, funky clothes out of antique and recycled fabrics, homeshools them, takes beautiful photos, cans applesauce, makes me feel like a slouch . . . but on a more positive note, it really is inspiring and her outlook and gratitude is really sweet. Jackie turned me on to her blog. She's all crafty like the soulemama chick. Anyway - I'm determined to get a sewing station set up in the girls' playroom now. Their playroom is the biggest bedroom in the house and its relatively empty, so I'm hoping to make a perfect crafting spot. Francesca needs some pants, so that's my first mission. Mission impossible? I made her some pants once before, with the help of my mom. I was lost on the first instruction in the pattern, so she had to help me a lot. Practice makes perfect? Mom is addicted to the soulemama blog, too and before we left her house tonight she said she was going to start some pants for Francesca . . . we're dually inspired. Dee, dee, dee, dee, dee, dee!

Our chickens FINALLY laid an egg! Monday, we were out at the chicken coop and Cecilia said, "Sunburst, PLEASE lay us an egg!" I guess it was the please that did it. Although its more likely that the Black Star, Sippy Sippy Sophia laid the egg, because they're sex-link chickens, bred to be both easily sexed and be egg laying machines, Francesca is positive that it was laid by Sunbrust, because like Sunburst, the egg had little speckles on it, so OF COURSE it came from the Plymouth Barred Rock! Only the chickens know for sure.

Afterwards, Cecilia clapped a round of applause for Sunburst and told her, "Good job Sunburst! Good job! Thaaank you for the egg! Good girl, Sunburst!" It was so sweet

Just when I was about to give up on the chickens, they went and laid an egg!

And here we are enjoying the lovely fall weather. The 80 degree day was a bit much, but I'm not complaining! We've been enjoying more time indoors, playing family (pretending to be Marie, Lily and Tucker or Jodi, Ben and Skylar and Ava or Jessica, Grace and Avery.) Cecilia is gravitating towards being any family with a small baby and she carries our life-like baby around all day, nursing her, rocking her and wearing her. Meanwhile, Francesca is usually a sibling or wife. Cecilia tends to be mommy or daddy. It was really funny when she was Ben and Francesca was Jodi and Ben had to go to work. They hugged and kissed goodbye and Cecilia left the room for work. Moments later, she returned and exclaimed, "My work is closed!" So she took the day off to spend time cooking meals for the children with her wife, Francesca/Jodi.

I'm about nine days away from my 'due date,' or estimated birth day, as we like to call it and I wasn't feeling much different until I went down Jackie's slide today. I think I knocked the baby's head down into my pelvis. Until today, the head was just to the left of my pelvis, but not engaged. Now, I'm pretty sure the head is engaged because I can't sit comfortably in the rocking chair, with both girls on my lap at bedtime, without throwing my legs over each side of the chair in a spread eagle. Nice. I'm hoping to go all the way to October 30th, at least. I'm so tired of everyone saying how small I am, that I'm hoping for a ten pounder, like my mother-in-law. Not a 13 pounder, though, like her second child. Yowza!

Unpacking Madness

There are only three boxes left to unpack and hopefully my camera cord is in one of them (the never-ending camera problem.) Our house turned out so bitchin', bitchin' bitchin! (As John, the master shelf builder says.) I guess it was worth the three-week paint job! We're still fine tuning, but aren't we always with our homes? Trim, exterior doors, a porch (gasp!), stuff to hang on the walls, paint to touch-up, etc. Actually, I'm just now surprised at how much our punch list has shrunken! Yippee! It looks beautiful.

My BFF's Jackie and Amy threw me an awesome baby shower on Saturday at Mom's house. It was really sweet and fun. I'm so thankful to have such nice, kind, generous women in my life. I admire each and every one of them and thank my lucky stars to have them my life. The Ft. Collins crew (Kathie, Dr. Uncle Boppa Steve, Liv, Hayley, Wils) was missed, but hopefully we'll see them in November? I can't believe that I'm less than three weeks away from my due date! Awk! I swear though, that my belly is getting smaller . . . I'm going to wrestle up the tape measure tonight and re-measure because the baby DOES seem oddly small for this late in the game. I keep saying that I gain a lot at the end, but I'm 35 pounds and counting. I went to my family doctor for a second opinion and he said, "Well, you're just all baby," and couldn't believe how much weight I'd gained, "Where is it?" - - - "In my butt!" My old boss, Bart thought I was having a boy with both Francesca and Cecilia because he noted that my butt had gotten a lot bigger. If my butt was a lot bigger then, then I'm REALLY packin' now. Another sign pointing to a boy baby? Hmmmm . . .

The girls want to ride their bikes EVERYWHERE. I have to be really creative to get them to just walk, "Let's walk so that we can collect leaves and make a leaf book!" "I know! Mom! I can collect leaves and put them in my bike basket!!!" (Crap.) "But, Francesca, you ride your bike so fast, you might pass right by some really beautiful leaves . . . let's walk, and you can take THIS basket!" (Phew!) Cecilia rides her skuut bike just as fast as Francesca - well Francesca can ride faster, but Cecilia always seems to make sure she's out in front and un-passable. Francesca nearly took her arm off on a fence tonight, trying to pass before the fence began. Cecilia is into Andrew these days, which is so nice. If he gets home at a decent hour (7:00!) then he inhales some dinner and puts the girls to bed. "I want Daddy to sing me his love songs." Cecilia said tonight. "Daddy sings you love songs?" I asked. And Cecilia bursts out into song, "My Daddy looove . . . My Mommy looove . . . My Francesca love . . . my two cats loooove . . . " and then she added Granny and Boppa. Her pitch amazes me - but doesn't everything amaze us about our children? Francesca made an "atmosphere" where she keeps her special things. Her vocabulary cracks me up. Today she said, "She reluctantly picked up her chap stick and put some on," as she narrates her life. It is such a crack up.

My rooster, Tornado started humping the crap out of Sophia today. Poor thing. And he won't shut up! I didn't think I would tire of hearing his happy crow, but man - okay, okay, okay! We get it! You're getting laid and you're happy, but do you have to crow every fifteen minutes? Maybe this means that she'll start laying eggs soon. Seems like Jackie's started humping and egg laying about the same time. I keep asking anyone in my neighborhood if they hear him and they usually say no or they say yes and its cool. I guess most people are working during the day or they're not outside as much as we are? I'm totally surprised that nobody has been by to complain. Maybe I should petition to make roosters okay in town? I mean, this is a town with a train running through it, and dogs bark all day and night . . . what's the harm in a little cock-a-doodle-doo? Pardon me, while I go tell the neighbor's dog to shush . . . roosters sleep at night. Tornado will never make a peep after dark . . . roosters rule!

So - there's the literary update, as soon as I unpack the box with the camera cord in it, I'll post a photo update . . . oxoxB

Back in Our House

We moved back into our house after the painter (painstakingly) completed the three-week-indoor paint job. I can't really complain though, because sleeping outside in our camper for just about two months was delightful . . . crickets and katydids serenading us to sleep, coyotes yipping through Granny's yard every night and even an owl visiting occasionally. I miss being up there a little bit, but its always there. Mom said that when she was growing up in the country in Appleton (what was the country, but is now 24 Road/Mall area) they had a summer house, which consisted of screens and cots. Sounds like we have another project for next summer, up at Granny's. We couldn't really sleep outside here in Palisade because of the train . . . toot! Toot! I took a painting class awhile back and a train rolled through and the other ladies in the class sighed and said, "Oh, I just love the train!" And I said, "You might not like it so much at 4am. " But I digress.

The house is BITCHIN'! Of course I'm not Brittany on the spot for pics, so you'll just have to take my word for it, until I can get the camera crap together. I love it. It feels really warm and homey, as opposed to pre-remodel, where it felt apartment-y-squater-esk. New blinds, bitchin', new-fresh colorful paint, bitchin', kitchin, SUPER bitchin'. Painting the old, beat cupboards white (Steamed Milk, to be precise) was the right choice. The Quartzite countertops are awesome and easy to keep clean and the stove is the holy grail of stoves . . . the center piece of the house. Ok - enough toot! Tootin' of my own horn! We're glad to be back in beds, anyway. OH - and we now have black-out blinds in the bedrooms, which probably saved me some jail time. I was close, so close to going into the alley in the dark of night and shooting out the alley light that clicks on and off every thirty seconds all night long . . . I tried to talk Andrew into taking an ax to the power supply, but he said that would kill him, so we were thinking BB gun might do the trick. Why are there streetlights in our alley, but not on our street, anyway? Wierd.

The girls are getting excited for the new baby. Cecilia wanted a boy for months and months, but the other day, she changed to our team and is now hoping for a girl, too. Not that we won't love to have a boy . . . as my friend Karen says, we need a boy so that we're not scraping the estrogen off our walls . . . a boy would be nice to even things out. Andrew would have someone on team testosterone, too. We're only about - sheesh, two and half weeks away from baby day (give or take a couple of weeks - hopefully give!) I swear, I feel like I'm getting smaller this week. Eat more . . . eat more . . . I feel so good that its hard to believe that I'm almost at the end. Maybe I'll be a month overdue, then I will have ALL the boxes unpacked, the trim will be done, I'll have a place for new baby to sleep and Cecilia will sleep in her own bed all night long! Right?! My baby shower was really, really sweet and fun. Thanks to sweet, sweet friends and especially Jackie, Amy and my mom for organizing. The team effort was great because nobody was overtaxed (at least I hope not!) How can life be so sweet? And then to have a baby on the way? No way! I must be living under a lucky star. I'm sorry my Ft. Collins peeps couldn't be there, but hopefully I'll get to see them all soon - we miss 'em!