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September 29, 2005
boo boo bear
Check out our little bear cub.
Posted by lisa at 01:38 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
view from the nursing chair
Is it me, or does the light here in the nursery look like a giant nipple? Maybe I'm just delirious because the time I'm spending nursing this little fellow per day literally rivals the amount of time I used to spend at work. Only here, I can watch Oprah. It's seriously all about the boobs these days--if I'm not nursing, I'm pumping. If I'm not pumping, I'm drinking tea to up my milk supply or emptying the refrigerator to satisfy my breastfeeding appetite. (Pregnancy had nothing on this!) As with all gains in life, there's clearly a price to be paid for the new, curvier boobs.
Posted by lisa at 01:36 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 28, 2005
Finimation
Here's a little Polaroid time-lapse of Lisa's Incredible Expanding Belly: finnhazen.com/belly.html -> Shawn
Posted by shawn at 11:46 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 27, 2005
seriously: can you handle the cuteness?
Here's a bunch of Finn Fotos in slideshow format. I've also experimented with putting music in the background, but I can't decide between Beyonce's the appropriately titled (but bawdily lyricized) "Baby Boy" and Bright Eyes' pensive, but ultimately brooding "First Day of My Life." So, stay tuned for the full Finn multimedia experience.
Go here for the slideshow.
Posted by lisa at 09:56 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 26, 2005
Finn's Birth Story
I've tried to post this a couple of times, but each time I do, a little fella pipes up and I never get past the part where I get the epidural. (Ahhh, the epidural!)
Anyway, here's the recap. Keep in mind that I'm currently very sleep-deprived, and currently consider making it through an issue of US Weekly an intellectual feat. So here I go piecing together the whole thing as best as I can.
Afternoon of September 7: I am huge, hot, swollen, and no longer enjoying the state-subsidized disability leave. I am also one week over my due date. Bring it.
5:00 p.m. Shawn and I go to the doctor's. I'm 3 cm dialated, which I learn doesn't mean anything. To induce labor, he strips my membranes (which is as fun as it sounds) while asking, "How would you feel about having this baby tomorrow?" I remain unconvinced that the kid is going anywhere.
7:30 p.m. We return home with Thai food and Arrested Development on DVD (Jason Bateman: who knew?) I am crampy, but figure that is due to the stripping of the membranes.
8:30 p.m. I'm not as amused as I should be by the Bluth family antics. In fact, I'm really uncomfortable. But this still doesn't feel like what (I imagined) contractions would feel like, so I chalk it up to the doctor's appointment and (now) the paad thai.
10:00 p.m. Maybe this is something. Shawn has my cheesy NIKE stopwatch and is timing my "cramps" just in case. They seem to be coming quite often. I'm getting increasingly belligerent.
10:30 p.m. Things quickly change. Call the doctor. Get the bag. I am in agony. Everyone has told us that it takes hours of labor before the hospital will admit you. The thought of hours of this is too much, and there isn't a consistent rhythm to the contractions. Shawn emails his work into Apple, which is very conscientious of him, but conscientiousness gets you nowhere with a pregnant, laboring wife.
11:30 p.m. I don't care how long my contractions are or how far apart. We're going to the freaking hospital. I'm barfing, pooping, and am exhibiting the all the charm and grace of Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
12 a.m. We arrive at the hospital. The admissions guy takes one look at me and waves me to the third floor.
12:30 a.m. Things are now a blur. I remain in agony. We are lucky to have a very sweet nurse who talks me through my breathing, helps me calm down, and most importantly, promises me pain medication. She checks me and I'm 5cm, and can be admitted. She leaves my side for one minute and I try to rip the monitors off me during one hairy contraction. I worry they will tie me to the bed.
1:00 a.m. I am admitted to a labor and delivery room, which Shawn notes is nicer than some hotels we've stayed in. I get hooked up to an IV, and they administer something that makes me feel like I've just had a pitcher of margaritas. The pain still comes, but suddenly, I don't care!
1:45 a.m. Margaritas wearing off, I was just about to go off on someone else when the wonderful anesthesiologist comes in. I never thought I'd be so happy to have a huge needle in my spine. I swear to you, the guy looked just like George Clooney, and within minutes, I feel about 100% better. My mood is suddenly much better and I'm able to laugh and joke and for the first time since arriving at the hospital, stop asking when my epidural is coming.
2:00 a.m. I chill and let my body do its contracting without fighting it. I sleep. Shawn even curls up on the couch next to my bed. It's actually quite cozy. I can totally do this! The lights are dimmed and it is peaceful.
3:30 a.m. My nurse informs me that the baby's hearbeat isn't varying as much as it should be with the contractions. They are worried and my epidural bliss is gone. My doctor is paged and comes in from home. A specialist comes in with a huge, scary-looking contraption that will be able to better gauge the heartbeat. Everyone looks grim as they waits for her to get started. I am no longer feeling peaceful.
3:45 a.m. God bless the specialist and her scary contraption, because it verifies that the kid is still thriving in there. They make the mistake of telling me the range of beats per minute in the average healthy heartbeat. I sit there and offer constant commentary. "Oh, he's up to 50 beats! And now back down to 38. That's OK, right?" (It is.)
4:00 a.m. We're back to being peaceful, and I'm now up to about 7cm. They tell me to get some sleep, send the doctor home and keep checking on me.
6:30 a.m. Party's over. I'm stuck at 8 cm, and need to get a move on. Pitocin is administered.
8:00 a.m. We're back in business--10 cm and good to go. My nurturing, sweet nurse has left her shift and been replaced by a tough-love, Bobby Knight kind of nurse. She's not here to coddle me, she's here to get that baby into the world.
8:15 a.m. Where the heck is my doctor? I start pushing. Bobby Knight gives me the tough talk. ("You call that a push? No! Try again!") And Shawn is the cheerleader. ("You're doing great! Just keep going!") Truth is, he looks as terrified as I do.
9:00 a.m. Still pushing. Bobby Knight gets more focused and Shawn looks more terrified. I'm told that the baby has moved down the birth canal and is crowning. And that he's "vacumable" at this point. Where is my doctor?
9:15 a.m. There he is. He comes in from a meeting downstairs, and frankly, looks a bit grumpy. He starts talking about how he hates these Thursday meetings, while I think, "Um hello? I'm pushing out a baby here!" Hardly the place for small talk about hating meetings. What's next--Mondays?
9:30 a.m. Enough with the pushing. I'm not getting anywhere, but more importantly, neither is baby. Out comes the vacuum. And before I know it:
9:36 a.m. ... Welcome to the world, little Finian! Before I know it, there is a little squirmy baby on my belly. This is surreal! Look at him! He's got hair and long fingers (and fingernails! Howard Hughes fingernails!) and toes, and... He's crying and the nurse wraps him in a blanket and suctions out his nose and throat. Then Finn just kind of looks at me, and I look at him. It's amazing! This is the little fellow who was squirming in my belly for 41 weeks? He's, he's... huge! Did someone say 9 lbs. 1 oz.? Are they kidding me?
9:40 a.m. Shawn and I make awestruck smalltalk with the little guy. ("Welcome, Little Finn! We're happy to meet you. We sure hope it wasn't too stressful on the way out... How was your trip?") The doctor and nurse are still down at the foot of the delivery bed. I ask if I tore at all (thanks to my pal epidural, I haven't felt anything!) and the response? "Let's not talk about that right now." I get a little faint.
9:45 a.m. It's confirmed that we have a genius baby when he aced his Apgar tests. The nurse cleans him off and puts him back on my belly and Shawn and I continue to hold him and talk to him while I get pieced back together. This takes quite a while and I get a bit squirrelly as this is happening. While I know the epidural is some magic stuff, I also know that I won't get to take it home. I try to forget and focus on the baby. I'm high on adreneline and can't believe that I just birthed this baby. I figure it's a good metaphor for motherhood--if I can do this, what can't I do?
And thus, I end on a sappy note. We love you already, Finn!
Posted by lisa at 02:08 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
the first official poop post
This may fall under the categories of subjects only a mother (and father) can love, but here goes. The kid does the most adorable little dance, accompanied by a bunch of wonderfully emotive facial expressions when he's pooping. Here is a little sampling of the dramatic range Finn brings to the theater of poop. (Click the photo to enlarge.)
Posted by lisa at 12:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 25, 2005
Poor Santie
Unfortunately, our furry child is taking Finn's arrival pretty rough. Although he did manage to summon up some kisses for Finn's feet today, he really hasn't been himself. And even went on a hunger strike earlier last week.
Posted by lisa at 10:51 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 22, 2005
billy idol called...
... he wants his look back.
With apologies to Jennifer Aniston.
Posted by lisa at 04:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
pacified
It is exactly two weeks since darling little Finn has entered our lives, and I'm pleased to report that we are all getting used to a little routine here. It is quite the accomplishment that today marks the first day that not only is Finn up, fed (twice), bathed, and napping before noon, but so are Shawn and I (well, minus the napping).
I will be posting many more photos soon--he is really getting more alert, curious and mature every day. I have had lots of requests (from the girls, that is) for the birth story, which I will include soon. (Minus gory details.)
Posted by lisa at 12:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 19, 2005
Rub a dub
Here's Finn gettin' his first real bath--his grody umbilical stump fell off so we could use this little tub. As you can tell, he's none too happy about it all...
-> Shawn
Posted by lisa at 01:09 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 14, 2005
Air Guitar!
Here's Finn dreaming of his future as a rock and roller. And appropriately, he's a bit of a night owl, keeping Lisa up from 2 to 4 every morning to eat. But he's adjusting to his new home well otherwise...
-> Shawn
Posted by lisa at 09:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 12, 2005
The Finternet
Lest you thought Lisa and I didn't have our priorities straight, I'd like to announce that finnhazen.com is live. However, there's not much there at the moment. But that will change soon. It will be an online repository for all things Finn. It'll make Santos' Web site look ridiculous in comparison. I mean, more ridiculous than it already is.
-> Shawn
Posted by shawn at 04:58 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 11, 2005
Pacification
Finn is generally not too cranky. He has his moments, sure. But he can usually settle himself down by sucking on his fingers, though sometimes we help him out with a little "binky".
-> Shawn
Posted by lisa at 03:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Finn's home!
This is Shawn, actually. Lisa is off getting some MUCH needed rest. It's Sunday, and we returned home yesterday afternoon. Lil' Finn is asleep at my side, too. He has been feeding constantly, which is great news, except it's kept Lisa tired and topless until just now. I've been trying to send out pictures to everyone, but if I've missed you, I'll try and upload a couple here.
Posted by lisa at 02:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 08, 2005
You can call him "Finn"...
I am so happy to announce the birth of our beautiful baby boy, Finian
Lucas Hazen. He was born Thursday, September 8, at 9:31 am, measuring 21
inches and weighing in at (no kidding!) 9 lbs., 1oz. It is a miracle the
boy wasn't named after the anesthesiologist.
He's the cutest little burrito--lots of fuzzy lt. brown hair, chubby
cheeks, and a very curious, intense stare. He aced his Apgar test (I
don't like to brag, but it was a "9.") And is sleeping like a burrito
right now next to me.
I'm sending this from my cell phone, but will have tons of new photos
very soon. (Shawn has taken about 50 already.) I'll post them soon!
Can't wait for everyone to meet him!
.:.::..baggermania.com.::.:.
Posted by lisa at 02:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 07, 2005
a watched pot...
OK, in the space of a day, this pregnancy went from being comically uncomfortable ("I can't see my toes!") to downright agonizing ("I can't pee and I certainly can't roll myself out of this bed!") The only thing I can commit to doing is sitting on the couch and watching hours of The O.C. on DVD with the dog, buffered by a half-dozen pillows. In this state, don't be surprised if I name this kid Ryan, Seth or even Sandy.
For those of you worried about the potential damage done to the child by consuming so much mind-numbing television, I will tell you that at least I'm off the nonstop hurricane coverage.
Posted by lisa at 08:44 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 06, 2005
an open plea to Baby H
OK, kid. You are officially five days late. Your daddy and I thought that maybe you were taking Labor Day literally, and that you would make your arrival then. (In the proud tradition of your papa.) But yesterday came and went, with no Baby H.
I don't know if it is the incessant news coverage that I've been watching that makes you think that staying put might be a good idea. (I'll stop!) Or maybe the fact that we've had a good time together on maternity leave, swimming, eating, walking the dog, eating, reading, eating. But at this point, I'm a bit concerned that you will weigh 40lbs when you are born and already be able to walk.
I've posted this photo of your room as inspiration. It's so cozy! You have no less than 10 stuffed animals to cuddle, four homemade blankets, and a dresser full of adorable clothes. Not least of all, a bunch of people can't wait to meet you, most of all, me.
Love,
Your Mama
Posted by lisa at 10:16 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 04, 2005
this is getting ridiculous
Dude. That is one overripe belly.
Yes, I know. Again with the black dress. It's the only one that still fits.
Posted by lisa at 11:44 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 03, 2005
Happy Birthday, Daddy-To-Be!
I guess you and Baby H won't be sharing the same birthday afterall, however.
Posted by lisa at 09:31 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 02, 2005
B-A-N-A-N-A-S
Legend has it that I was born very, very late after my due date after my mom had a banana milkshake. Shawn came home with the fixin's to make me one yesterday. Nice try, but even as uncomfortable as I am here at 40 weeks plus two days, I have a major pregnancy aversion to bananas. (Might as well be castor oil.) But check in with me in a week if the kid still hasn't arrived.
Posted by lisa at 04:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack