Ryker's Birthday
Riker Ryker Reksorahardjo Wessel was born Tuesday, January 22nd, 2019 at 1:12 AM at French Hospital in San Luis Obispo. He weighed 7 lb 9 oz and measured 21¾ inches long. He is our first child.
Ryker's due date was February 1st. The pregnancy had proceeded nominally until 3 weeks out when Ryker decided to turn breech. Dr. S_ attempted an ECV (i.e. flip the baby) but it failed. Ryker had already descended too far into Monika's pelvis. Monika was scheduled for a C-section on Friday, January 25th but Ryker couldn't wait. Monika's water broke just before 9:00 PM on Monday. She had just started her maternity leave that day! Our expected 2 week nesting period had been cut first to 1 week then to 2 days. I literally finished assembling the bassinet while Monika was in the bathroom confirming that her water had indeed broken.
We scurried about the house packing like a fire was heading our way then drove in a calm, statistically appreciative manner to the hospital befitting the son of a traffic engineer. Monika's contractions came on quickly. After a couple hours of monitoring and prep, Monika was taken to the operating room, leaving me to pace for 20 minutes before I was allowed to join.
I did not look left at the surgery-in-progress as I entered the operating room! Monika was shaking and would not be able to stop for a few hours. The nurse said that was a response to adrenaline. Monika says that she was shaking when the anesthesiologist administered the spinal. We are thankful for his good aim hitting a moving target!
Ryker was delivered within the first 10 minutes. The C-section may not be painful per se but it is traumatic. There's a lot of tugging at what ought not to be tugged at. I overheard the surgeons' chatter that the umbilical cord was wrapped once around Ryker's neck. I kept mum so as not to worry Monika. She also overheard and kept mum so as not to worry me.
The burst of joy upon hearing Ryker cry was sudden, tremendous, novel and surprising. It had a cinema quality. I was saddened that Monika was too stuck in to the surgery to properly share in it.
What's in a name?
No, you did not err when you addressed Riker in cards and gifts (thank you for those by the way). That was the spelling that Monika and I had agreed upon. I wanted Riker and she wanted Ryker but neither of us were dead set. I began asking whoever we happened upon, in the most innocuous terms, which spelling felt the most natural to them and Ryker won unanimously. I acquiesced when the birth certificate form was set before me.
No, we did not alter the spelling to distance our son from the Star Trek character William Riker. I admit that the connection gave me pause at first but then I remembered that I'm an oldfag and none of my son's peers are going to recognize a character from a TV show as old as me. Besides, William Riker is a fine, honorable character and any lad should be happy to share his name, or Frakes for that matter. Yet neither did I name my son after William Riker. That would be some creepy trekkie nonsense.
The truth of the matter is that Monika and I wanted a simple-enough masculine name that sounded familiar yet was uncommon. Ryker eventually rolled off the tongue. As for that middle name, Reksorahardjo, don't look at me. That is Monika's father's surname and he ain't from around here.
Pride Cometh...
Monika was too shaky, numb and cut-up to take Ryker for the first couple of hours. The task of breastfeeding thus fell to me. I held Ryker skin-to-skin for our first marathon session of hide-and-seek. He sought my nipples with all his miniature determination and ever I pulled away. Those were both golden and torturous hours.
So began the sleepless recovery phase (I will post an update when that phase ends). It began deceptively reassuringly. I learned that Ryker communicated clearly about his short list of needs. I learned that instinct is a two-way street. I had no prior experience with newborns and while I had been confident that I would muddle through, I was delighted to find that it came automatically.
Monika was also recovering stunningly quickly. When the spinal wore off, she did not feel the need to use narcotics. The IV acetaminophen and ibuprofen was sufficient. The IV was soon out and she was just taking acetaminophen pills. The doctors and nurses murmured that we might be discharged after just 3 nights and 2 days.
The lactation consultants were crucially helpful. A_ helped us achieve latch the first day. I had imagined that breastfeeding, being primal, would come instinctively. This was wildly incorrect. My current appraisal is that I'm not sure how all babies don't starve to death. To be fair, Ryker had excellent terminal guidance. The difficulty was getting him lined up with Monika's nipple given his underdeveloped newborn neck and the fact that we could not allow him to breast crawl due to the C-section incision.
The nurses were exceptional without exception. We especially enjoyed the nightshifts when nurses had more time. Ca_ got us through the time following surgery. There was Co_ with the extra tight swaddle not to be confused with Ce_ with the mittens and booties swaddle and the humor. D_ gave a shoulder to cry on and some good old fashioned matronly counseling when things had gone intense and hormonal. Ch_ could get Ryker to latch almost immediately. J_'s shifts happened during relatively calm periods so we didn't get the baptism by fire bonding but she was warm and interested. Then there was a nurse whose name I can't remember which is a shame because she probably saved Ryker's life when I was sleep deprived.
...Before the Fall
With the baby latching, Monika recovering and me grokking, I had the errant notion that the mission was a sleeper. The baby may latch but that doesn't mean that the colostrum/milk is flowing. Of course just because you don't see any milk doesn't mean that it's not flowing. Babies are terribly engineered.
We were, however, pretty darn sure that Ryker was not getting a drop to drink. We made our first appeal for help to Dr. C_, the on-call pediatrician. He brushed us off with a well rehearsed speech for generically nervous parents. We noted that he did not actually look at Ryker or ask any follow up questions even after being prodded. He was exceedingly comfortable with Ryker crossing the 10% weight loss threshold during the next doctor's shift. In fact, the only pediatrician who ever looked up from his chart at Ryker was Dr. M_.
Our next appeal was to the lactation consultant M_. She read the writing on the wall, went above and beyond working with us and ultimately recommended triple feeding. That is breastfeeding followed by pumping followed by formula. The process takes nearly an hour and must be performed every 3 hours. This schedule proved humanly unsustainable but was nonetheless preferable to holding Ryker while he starved to death. M_ no doubt saved us 12-24 hours of holding a hungry, inconsolable baby.
Then Monika's pain increased until she opted into narcotics. Oh well, acetaminophen for surgery was a pipe dream in the first place. We remain thankful to Dr. R_ and the surgical team. Monika's recovery from surgery has gone so well overall that like any job well performed, it is easy to forget about.
Then Ryker began fussing inconsolably. At 96 hours of high exertion, little sleep and 5 pounds lost, I cracked. The most tired that I had been previous to this was a 35 hour continuous programming spree when I shipped a new version of my software product Lucid. That was merely tiring. This was sleep deprivation. It was odd and unpleasant. I lost most of my ability to speak though I could still understand what people were saying. My empathy dialed down to about a tenth of normal such that I became afraid that I might hurt Ryker. I tapped out and let Monika and the nurse take over. After 4 hours of continuous sleep I felt human again.
We did not go home a day early.
Post Mortem Birth 'em
We did go home eventually. Unfortunately, Monika's prescription was sent to the wrong pharmacy. After ado attempting to transfer Schrodinger's prescription, I bit the bullet and drove 2 hours round-trip.
I conspired with the neighbors to make sure that Monika was taken care of while I was gone. She did not want to let anyone into our home which we had left in disarray a few days earlier. First E_, their non-threatening very curious 9 year old girl came in. Then after 30 minutes J_ came in with tri-tip under pretense of checking on E_. After another 30 minutes, A_ came in under the pretense of looking for J_. I learned this tactic from how Gandalf smuggled 13 dwarves into Beorn's house.
Monika had her own run in with sleep deprivation. She developed a dry cough, a painful thing after abdominal surgery. It was a good thing that we had the narcotics. The only pill that she took from her prescription she took that night and, in all seriousness, it was worth the drive.
Each day since Ryker's birth has felt like a week. Life has become 16 - 20 hour days, 7 days a week and still losing ground each day. He was inconsolable for a few nights in a row and we began to fear colic. Then it passed. He's actually pretty reasonably unreasonable. So long as we keep him fed, changed and cuddled he's mostly unconscious which is exactly how we like him. He's gotten easier, bit by tiny bit. Perhaps a glimmer of sanity is upon us? For instance, I have not had the time to journal until today. Life will never be the same but at least I no longer have to worry that I'm becoming too comfortable.
Would you recommend babies to a friend?
Yes, misery loves company. Monika and I have had to mortgage our lives. That side of the ledger is very real. On the other side, having children is part of the basic template of life. I doubt that one can come to an appreciation and reckoning with life without children. In other words, we love Ryker so much that we barely even think about dropping him.
That's about it, folks. Thanks for reading and for the gifts and the congratulations and all the fish.
Aside #1: Treatment of the Father
The world looks differently upon you when you are carrying a baby, particularly women. My advice to lonely men is to rent a baby. I believe the secret to taking a woman home is to be seen carrying a baby and then work into the conversation, “No, he is not mine actually, but I hope that I will come across the right woman and have a family of my own soon.”
As Nietzsche pointed out, people reveal themselves when they attempt to observe others. In the presence of my wife and son, I get a notion as quick and strong as lightning as to which women have struck out on fathers and husbands. The fortunate women speak to the 2 headed ogre otherwise known as the couple. The unfortunate women speak only to the mother.
Aside #2: Backpacking and Fasting
As I was hustling about the hospital, I reflected on 2 activities for which I was thankful and which I would recommend to couples planning to have children. Backpacking was a teriffic simulation. The backcountry exerts an extended, constant minor tyranny, much like a baby. All you have is each other and a bit of kit. You can squabble with each other over the irritants or come together to mitigate them.
Fasting was directly useful. Ryker sometimes got five meals before his stoical father got one. It was nice to be able to substitute a nap or an errand for a meal. I lost 5 pounds of body fat and the point is that it wasn't a big deal. I would have merrily skipped breakfast, lunch and dinner for 8 hours of sleep. Fasting was also spiritually useful: forbearance and all that jazz.
Aside #3: French Hospital
The birth center in French Hospital is new and nice. The rooms have wood grain and purple mood lighting. Nevertheless, hospitals are not healthy places. If you were to put a perfectly healthy person in a hospital he would be a shell of himself after a month. My “shower thought” is that hospitals should begin as vacation resorts. Only when healthy people want to come to your institution voluntarily should you be allowed to admit the ill.
Monika worked briefly as a diet tech. Those are the people who deliver the food trays. The food is good enough when it is prepared. It is warmed over by the time it reaches your mouth. We talked about it a lot and there is no easy solution. The mission of a hospital is hard enough but society seems determine to pile on. A microcosm of the problem is illustrated by...margarine! We know that margarine is not healthy, generally speaking. We are better served butter or olive oil. French Hospital serves margarine. Monika says that the reason is not cost. It's because hospitals are mandated to serve food by RDAs and adding a pat of margarine to the meal plan is a little trick to hit the vitamin A quota.
Hospitals are run on policies. Everything policy touched at French seemed stricken. Everything left to the judgment of the staff seemed to flourish. I doubt that good policy can save mediocre staff but I know that any policy constricts good staff. I'm all for habits, rhythms, patterns and procedures as baseline but not as mandate