7.01.2009

Sofia with an "f"

We kept many of you guessing by not sharing our choice in names. This was frustrating to quite a few, which made our decision even more fun. We figured since we already knew the sex, we'd wait to decide her name until we saw her. We had two names going into the birth. The idea was that one name would fit if she looked more like me, the other if she looked more like Steve. Of course, she threw us a loop by looking a whole lot like a Giachetti, but with my light hair. We waited an hour or so in recovery just ogling her and trying to make our final decision. It really wasn't much of a decision, she definitely looked to both of us to be a Sofia. The other name was Addison, which we both really liked, but I think we were both leaning towards a more "classic" name. And nearly everyone that we have shared the alternate name with has said that they prefer Sofia. Who knows if they are telling the truth or not, we really don't care!

What's with the spelling?
To keep the name a little more "Italian" Steve had said from the beginning that if we went with Sofia, he'd like to spell it with an "f" rather than the more common "ph" because in the Italian language, the combination of "ph" does not exist. So, "f" it is! So far we've received many cards and well wishes addressed to "Sophia." Oh well, she'll likely have to endure this her entire life. Steve is used to it, as he is Stephen, not Steven.


What will we call her?
It's been a little hard to not call her Piccolina and that will certainly remain a nickname. Steve is planning to call her Sofia, while I really like Sofie. Please feel free to use either!

6.29.2009

Welcome to the world, Sofia Louise!

Sofia Louise arrived on Thursday, June 25th at 11:45am and now we are three!

The story is, thankfully, drama-free. We headed into Good Sam for our scheduled c-section on Thursday morning at 9:30am. The Tuesday night prior, Steve and I enjoyed one last pre-baby date night at Nick's on Main in Los Gatos which was just wonderful. Wednesday night I wasn't supposed to eat after midnight, so I had a big bowl of pasta for dinner and then some yogurt at midnight. I woke up Thursday with a headache that was probably caused by some nervous grinding of the teeth and the fact that I cried for like an hour on Wednesday night. Everything kind of hit me at once - the fact I was having surgery the next day, the fact that this baby would be coming no matter what and of course, the utter excitement. While the planner in me really liked knowing exactly when the big event was going to go down, I think there is something to be said for the natural way - since you don't know when it's going to happen, you don't have a deadline for all of your emotions to come to the surface.

But I digress...Thursday morning Steve and I were both up early and I watched longingly (and starving-ly) as he headed to Starbucks without me. We packed up the car and headed out for the short ride to the hospital, commenting that this would be our last ride as a couple! We arrived at 9:30am on the dot:

Just as Carrie Bradshaw had her "last single girl kiss" this is my "last pregnant girl photo"

We headed up to Labor and Delivery and met our fantastic nurse Shari who got us set up and checked in and prepped for surgery. Steve was asked to put on this awesome outfit in case he picked up a Proton Pack along the way and needed to save the hospital from some bad Ectoplasm.
I walked down the hallway into the operating room and Steve was asked to wait outside in his wheelchair. They wanted to make sure they didn't end up with two patients, so they put Steve in the chair to hopefully keep him from seeing anything too gory and passing out. I won't go into all the details since I'm not sure what my readers can handle...but the worst part was the anesthesia shot and it really wasn't all that bad. It kicked in IMMEDIATELY and before we knew it the doctor was asking if we were ready to have a baby. I thought that meant she was going to get started, but apparently it meant they had already cut me open and the baby was coming out RIGHT THEN. We heard the glorious first cries of a VERY angry young lady and they whisked her (and Steve) away to get her cleaned up. I just laid there and tried not to look at my torso's reflection in the overhead lights. Thanks for the tip Amy-Jo!

We hung out in recovery for about 2 hours and waited for the anesthesia to start to wear off. This is where we got to take our first family portrait:

The next 4 days in the hospital were a whirlwind of nurses, visitors, breastfeeding, soreness and getting to know Sofia. More photos and stories to come!

6.24.2009

Twas the Night Before Baby...

...and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for this wireless mouse.

I am on my way to bed, but had to post this latest and last pregnant photo. Well, there may be one or two at the hospital tomorrow, but this is the last one where I have on make-up and real clothes.

Tomorrow is the big day! We check into Good Sam at 9:30am and my c-section begins at 11:30am. I'm not supposed to eat anything after midnight and it's 11:57...so we'll see ya next when there is a baby in our midst!

6.18.2009

Downright Laziness

There are lots and lots of fun events and parties and such to blog about and I'll get to those (just like I'll get to the pile of thank you notes on the kitchen table). But right now, I thought I'd provide the latest. In less than one week, our permanent house guest will arrive. Everyone keeps saying "hasn't it just flown by?" No, actually it hasn't. The first 4 months were the slowest in the history of (wo)man mainly because I was feeling so crappy. Since I've been feeling better, it has gone by a little faster, but I still feel like it's been a really long 10 months. I'm not complaining. While I'm SUPER excited and curious to see her and be amazed at everything about her, another part of me just wants to hold onto these last few days of normalcy. Quiet. Downright laziness. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, has encouraged us, even pleaded with us, to enjoy these last days as a couple. Then in the next breath they feel obligated to tell us how wonderful it will be when she arrives, as not to completely petrify us. Understandably, I'm conflicted!

And how do I know that she'll arrive in less than one week? The c-section is scheduled for June 25th, that's how I know. Unless she pops out of her diving pike position, it looks likely that's the day. It's been a very strange month, emotionally. When we first heard the c-section was likely, I was pretty bummed out. I'd spent the last few months really getting used to the idea of labor and delivery. I was
almost looking forward to it. Now, I've come to terms with the idea of surgery and it's benefits, as explained to me by the MANY women who have come out of the woodwork to sing its praises:
  • She won't have a cone head
  • There's the chance you could end up having a c-section even after laboring for many hours, this way your body is not as exhausted...less risk of infection, etc., etc...
  • My "down there" parts will remain intact (so all those kegels were in vain?)
  • Yes, the recovery will be longer, but we'll get to stay in the hospital and learn from the uber-knowledgable nurses for an extra few days
Maybe it's just me trying to make the best of the situation. She's coming out one way or another, and the planner in me kinda likes knowing when and where. Stay tuned!

6.10.2009

Whole Lotta Love

BEWARE: Amy's husband has hijacked The Sucker Spot. If you're a faithful reader of Amy's blog, you probably like what she does and may not be keen on a guest blogger. When it's all said and done, I'll probably end up being something between a hot substitute teacher who allows you to screw around in class and a guest DJ who changes the format just enough to annoy you....some good and some not-so-good.

The anniversary of American history's D-Day (June 6th) has come and gone, but our D-Day--Delivery Day--is quickly approaching. I recognize there is joy and pleasure in both a childless existence (read: freedom) and parenthood (read: I'll get back to you in a couple months). In an effort to enjoy our last days and weeks without parental responsibilities, we have taken a Babymoon and maximized our sleep--at least I have since I don't have a cement basketball complicating my nightly slumber. My last major pre-baby activity was scheduled for last Friday: A zeppelin flight with my dad and father-in-law followed by lunch and cocktails...not necessarily in that order. Our one-hour zeppelin flight around the Bay Area was aboard a 246-foot long monster, one of only three in the world.

For reference purposes, that is 50+ feet longer than the Goodyear blimp. For obvious reasons, it reminded me of the Hindenburg, save the silver "skin" and fiery glow.
We took off from the Oakland Airport, traveled north over Jack London Square, veered northwest toward Belvedere and Tiburon, then southwest toward the Golden Gate, east along the Marina Green and finally southeast over the Bay Bridge and back to Oakland. It was an amazing tour that I strongly recommend, especially if you can get someone else to pay for it. Good luck with that.

Any discussion of a zeppelin, particularly for a classic rock freak like me, must include mention of the bluesy rock genius that is Led Zeppelin. For most expectant parents, the major pre-baby debate concerns names. For Amy and me, it has been the music to which Piccolina will be exposed. In the hospital, in the car, at home. My parents have shared taste and gave me the best of the 50's and 60's through Bill Haley, Buddy Holly, Elvis, Little Richard, Motown and Brothers black and white alike--Isley, Righteous and Everly. They also exposed me the velvety voices of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Jerry Vale. I can say with certainty that Piccolina will hear everything under the sun. From her dad, the aforementioned rock 'n roll pioneers and crooners. Rock icons like Led Zeppelin, The Stones, The Doors and Van Halen. And, of course, Neil Diamond! "Girl, you'll be a woman...soon."

From her mom, she'll get Morrissey (step away from the ledge), Jack Johnson (bo-ring), all incarnations of Ben Folds, a touch of JT and more than a touch of hip-hop. In the end, Piccolina will figure out that Mommy and Daddy listen to music together (a) when Daddy is cooking (which is always) and (b) when Simon, John, Roger, Andy and Nick are invited to the party as Duran Duran is the musical trump card in our house.

All kidding aside, I cannot wait for our little one to arrive, for the music to begin and to enjoy it with Amy.

6.04.2009

Turn, Baby, Turn

Baby update:

I'm just about to start my 37th week and feeling...well, s-l-o-w and large. Aches and pains here and there, ugly swollen feet and ankles, and sleeping (or rather, turning over) is officially a pain in the ass - literally. But really overall, I'm doing OK.

Will she come out with a blond bob (Meghan's prediction)? Will she inherit her father's pretty green eyes and brunette locks? Only time will tell...and what she looks like will determine her name. We have two picked out, but we're not telling so you'll have to stay tuned!

We're getting really excited to meet her in just a few short weeks...if not sooner.
How she will arrive is still up in the air. She's currently breech and actually seems to be in the "pike position" - I envision her like this, minus the bathing suit, plus an umbilical cord:
The doctor thinks it's unlikely that she'll turn because she's blocked by an indentation in my uterus. But, it's not impossible. We're just waiting now. We'll need to make the call during week 38 as to whether or not we want to go forward with a planned C-Section during my 39th week (the week of June 22). Stay tuned and send positive turning thoughts to Piccolina!

Babymoon!

As mentioned in the previous post, the photographic memories from this past weekend's adventures were stolen, so you'll have to make due with the written and a few copy written photos I didn't take.

This Memorial Day weekend Steve and I planned a fun weekend away. What is soon to be a new Hallmark occasion, we embarked on a "Babymoon"...or getaway before the baby arrives. In Steve's paraphrased words it's "just another racket designed to get me to spend money." While he's probably correct, I didn't care. I'd been itching to get outta dodge and since a week on a beach in Tahiti is not in the cards, I settled for a semi-staycation weekend in our beautiful Bay Area.


Saturday morning we drove to San Francisco and saw the matinee of the musical Wicked.

I'd been wanting to see it for years and it didn't disappoint. We had pretty good seats in the orchestra section and what made them better was their proximity to the bathroom. One of our city dweller friends, Rags, was out of town for the weekend, so he graciously gave us the keys to his apartment. We enjoyed a lovely dinner at an Asian fusion place in the financial district called Unicorn. Silly name, but pretty good food. Then we headed to North Beach for some gelato and then an Irish coffee and hot chocolate at Tosca's on Columbus. Yum.

Sunday we stopped at Tartin in the Mission on the way out of the city. Even though the wait was down the street, it was so worth it.

We headed down to Half Moon Bay and walked around downtown and had lunch. It was a typical coastal summery day - COLD and drizzly. But we had a lovely time, nonetheless.
We checked into our room at fantastic Ritz Carlton Half Moon Bay...which I booked based purely on this photo and the promise of s'mores in the room.
It did not disappoint. This is pretty much the view we had. However, we also had a front row seat to a wedding. Watching a wedding while wearing sweat pants, bundled in a blanket, drinking a coke (or glass of vino) and reading your book during the boring parts is definitely the way to go. Sunday night we enjoyed a wonderful dinner at Pasta Moon in downtown HMB and returned to enjoy our s'mores package at the outdoor firepit.

Babymoons rule. Give into the racket.