Tag Archives: Maia

development

The reluctant crawler

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Maia is going to crawl any day now. Of course I’ve been saying that for a month, but it’s got to be close. She’s actually crawled a few inches, but not really enough to constitute crawling. She can get up on her hands and knees but tends to start to fuss at that point as if to say, “I know I’m close but I don’t wanna!” Two days ago she also pulled herself up to a standing position by using a drawer so maybe she’ll just skip crawling? She’s always preferred to stand and jump anyway, so maybe crawling is just too easy for Action Baby?

It’s interesting too because in a lot of ways she’s fearless with movement. When you’re holding her you really have to watch out for the lunge or the occasional throw-head-into-backwards-dive maneuver. And just this morning she fully laid out from a sitting position, like a diving center-fielder in baseball, to try and snag Keana’s breakfast burrito that she had set down. It was quite an admirable effort and she did get a small piece of it. So Miss Maia may be reluctant now, but I have a feeling once she really gets moving, we’ll be in trouble.

UPDATE (9/2/08): I wrote this last week and just didn’t get a chance to publish until now because of Iana’s wedding. So, the day I wrote this, Maia committed to crawling—moving especially fast after Miko the cat—and we are definitely in trouble. More later…

development

Good work little baby

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I’ve been needing to write about all the good work little Miss Maia has been doing:

Talking
At about five months (around April 2008), Maia started saying “mama”. This of course makes sense she’s always been a mama’s girl. And at first we asked ourselves if we were hearing things or just being eager, proud parents, but indeed she was using “mama” to gets Sarah’s attention or to ask for Sarah when she was upset. It was especially clear when Sarah was gone and Maia would sadly but clearly say, “Ma-ma! Ma-ma!” In the last three weeks Maia’s added a slightly different version that’s almost “papa”.

In the last two months she’s really started to squeal and experiment with her volume as well, often screaming out uncontrollably then looking up at us smiling. Hilarious. And although this isn’t necessarily in the “talking” category, Maia has really become a laugher. At first she was our serious little baby but in the last month Maia’s sense of humor has really blossomed. Her smile is amazing and her laugh just makes your heart melt. She’s also started to smile more with people she doesn’t know as well and it’s really cute when she smiles sheepishly and then melts back into your chest shyly. And for the record, I think she’s going to be a full-tooth smiler like her big sister and papa.

Action
Maia has always been squirrelly and strong, right from her first hours, and we’ve coined the name Action Baby for her. She still loves to jump and jump while being held and rarely sits still on your lap or in your arms. She loves bath time and of course, jumping in the water. Sometimes she jumps so vigorously that she splashes the water everywhere and Keana, who’s carefully playing some flavor of make-believe with her toys, gets upset and shouts, “Hey Maia, stop splashing!”. Maia also can’t stay leaning back. No matter where she is, she wants to be sitting upright. No relaxing for this girl. Which definitely led to her latest big breakthrough of sitting up by herself. Three weeks ago she started sitting up on her own and again, our lives are changed forever. Sitting up on her own allows her to entertain herself better and allows Sarah to have a little break to do house stuff or play with Keana. Of course being more autonomous has its perils. Keana loves playing with Maia which sometimes includes pushing Maia over and tackling her. We’re really trying not to be overbearing parents, but Maia is still a little helpless. I definitely try and take cues from Maia and if she’s laughing and smiling at Keana, I fight off my papa bear. Keana is still learning the boundaries of playing safely with Maia, but she’ll get there. Oh, and recently, about three weeks ago, Maia waved and has been waving hello ever since (not so much good-bye yet).

Bottom Line
Maia is progressing like a champ and is definitely doing her thing for Team Hokama. Keana has set the bar high but little Mai Mai is having no trouble reaching it.

development

Poor little baby

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(Started and almost finished 6/3/08. Since this was written the teething has been more manageable.)

Poor little Maia is having an especially hard time with teething lately. She’s always preferred to be held, but lately Sarah has barely been able tot set her down at all, which makes an already long day with the two little ladies that much longer. Sarah goes to work out two nights a week (and on Saturdays) and that’s always a little tough on both the girls since during the week it’s right around dinner time. I’m not ashamed to admit that it’s hard on me too, but I know it’s important for Sarah to not only exercise, but also have a little something just for herself too. Anyway, Wednesday night (6/4) was really tough with the little teether. The three of us barely managed dinner and I actually left mine mostly unfinished as I tried to calm Maia. I can usually put her in the sling and rock her to sleep, but on this night I think her teeth hurt too much to let the sleep take over.

I tried everything and finally decided maybe a bath would do the trick. Up until this point Keana had been doing a great job with putting up with her distraught sister and her distracted dad and seemed ready to move on to the bath. So we all hopped in and Maia continued to cry and cry and I had to try to just be okay with the fact that there was just nothing I could do, and just hope the remaining time without Sarah would go by quickly.

Sarah walked in the door to little Miss Maia splashing and sobbing, with a frustrated Papa and a worn out sister. Thank God Sarah was home and thank God every night isn’t like this.

development

Debriefing with Maia at 3 a.m.

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Last night/this morning at 3:30 a.m. Maia was wide awake. I heard Sarah say, “It’s time for sleep Maia!” as she pushed Maia over to my side of the bed. “She’s been awake for hours!” Sarah said and she rolled over and covered herself up signaling the passing of the “put-the- kid-to-sleep”. I sat there for a moment hoping that Sarah was exaggerating and that Maia would just drift off to sleep once she felt the warmth of her papa’s arm…right, fat chance. She was wiggling. She was arching her back. She was groaning, squealing, and talking. She was wide awake indeed.

I got out of bed and began to gently rock her and she quieted right down. After about five minutes she began arching her back and fussing for Mama. I figured it had been just enough time to remind her of what she was missing out on, and put her back in bed, next to Sarah to nurse, which she did, and then she started to drift off to sleep. “Hey, that was pretty easy!” I thought to myself and began to doze off.

Five minutes later I felt Sarah slide Maia back over to my side. First attempt failed—round two. I immediately got up, began rocking and singing softly, “Go to sleep little Maia…” and again, Maia quieted right down. And again, five minutes later, began fussing and arching her back. Sarah suggested I turn on the bathroom light—because Maia likes to be able to see what’s going on—and get the sling. So I turned on the light and Maia sneezed—as she always does when the light goes on at night; funny huh?—and I got the sling and put Maia inside. She was definitely more at peace and she began to groan/mumble. On and on she went. Then she put her wrist up to her mouth and continued on, now making a buzzing sound with her saliva against her wrist. I stayed quiet and just listened and rocked as Maia continued to make these noises which were getting softer and softer. At that moment it struck me, maybe she just needed to get the day off her little chest? She was asleep when I got home from teaching at 10 p.m., and she hadn’t seen me in 15 hours, so maybe she just needed to tell me about her day in a groany, buzzy, sleepy-baby kind of way? She did this for about 10 minutes and konked out. It reminded me that even little babies that can’t “talk” need to just be listened to sometimes.

I set her back in bed and laid down myself. Ah, success. Thirty seconds had passed and then the friggin cat walks in and starts clawing at my side of the bed and then threatens to knock things off the dresser if I don’t give him some lovin’. What can I say? Maybe the kids just really missed me yesterday? I grabbed my pillow and headed out to the living room floor so Miko wouldn’t wake Maia up. In an hour-and-half Keana would up and I had to get some sleep. Before I knew it the sun was up, Keana was calling, and there was a fur ball curled up by feet. As I shook off the stiff neck/back/shoulders I thought, “Man! That was rough. Good morning Wednesday, guess we better get this thing rolling.”

development

Continued from 3/19/08 (the joys of vaccinations)

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Sorry to leave y’all hanging on that last one. Bottom line, Maia is fine. We went to the pediatrician and as predicted, she had no idea what the red spots were or what was causing the fever. Of course she said it wasn’t related to the vaccines—it was just a coincidence that it showed up around the same time. Anyway, she was concerned enough to order a full blood work-up STAT. This meant we had to drive to Oakland’s Children’s Hospital to get a speedy turnaround on the results. At this point it’s almost noon and we’re all hungry, Maia still has a fever, and we don’t know what to think.

We decided we couldn’t deal with the hospital on empty stomachs so we picked up some sandwiches on the way to Oakland. We were completely stressed out. As a parent you know you have to be calm and at least pretend you know everything will be all right, but I must say, I wasn’t doing a very good job at that. Keana was of course pushing the limits on everything, knowing something was going on and that we weren’t on top of our game, and Maia continued to cry and cry. It was total chaos for a while there.

We finished wolfing our sandwiches down just as we pulled into our parking spot in the garage across the street from the hospital. I grabbed Maia in her car seat, Keana followed Sarah, and we crossed the street and entered the waiting room. We then put our names on the list and proceeded to wait. Immediately I noticed all the kids in the waiting room coughing and sneezing and with red bumps all over their arms and my skin began to crawl. “Just perfect,” I thought, “this is exactly where our kids need to be right now. SHIT!!!” Again, not the calmest parent there.

Surprisingly we got in to the lab only after waiting an hour but only one parent could go in. We decided Sarah was the best choice do Keana stayed in the waiting room. I could hear Maia screaming through the door and could only imagine what was going on. After about 10 minutes Sarah and Maia emerged and Sarah began to cry. She said the lab tech couldn’t find a vein so she just stuck the needle in and moved it around until blood started coming out. Then she had to take five files of blood for all the tests. Traumatic. Luckily (hopefully) Maia won’t remember any of this.

By the time we got home our doctor had the results and there was no bacterial infection and therefore nothing to worry about. All we could do is wait it out and use tylenol for the fever. A whole afternoon of trauma just to be told to keep doing what we were doing. Of course it’s better to be safe, err on the side of caution, but man, what a day.

development

The joys of vaccinations (and other things)

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I’m sitting in the BART station waiting for the next train to El Cerrito. We have a pediatrician appointment for Maia because we’re worried she may be having a reaction to the vaccines she got last Friday (3/14/08). We don’t think it’s anything severe but we don’t know for sure. I have a feeling the doctor won’t tell us anything conclusive either, which is annoying. Western medicine touts its knowledge and superiority but it’s always a game of chance. We’re told we should do the vaccines to prevent something terrible, but there’s only a slight chance our kids would even be exposed to most of these illnesses in the first place. Then there’s a slight chance that our kids may have a terrible reaction TO the vaccines. Of course the argument is that the benefits outweigh the risks but this is coming from an establishment with intimate ties to pharmaceutical and insurance companies. And behind these companies are, of course, people making a profit from all this. Let’s say that the majority of healthcare professionals DO have the best interests of their patients in mind. It seems that by the very nature of their profession it would be impossible for them to fully practice care to this end, because it would mean not complying with mandated protocols influenced I’m sure, by more influential, more powerful people who are in the healthcare business for money.

I know there are benefits to modern medicine and I appreciate this privilege. But as a parent, you can’t take everything wholesale, even from your healthcare providers who are supposed to be caring for you and your family. It seems to me the business of healthcare is so deep, that there’s no way we can fully trust any agent of the system, even your family doctor, because in the end, it all leads back to money and there can be no true care where this much money is involved.

I hope we’ve made the right decisions for our children and lord knows we’re paying a premium for this whole confused mess.

To be continued…

development

Silly baby

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One thing I don’t get about babies is this: if they eat when they’re hungry, and they poo or pee whenever the hell they have to, then why don’t they sleep when they’re tired?! Maia has been a great little sleeper in general—and I remember thinking this with Keana—but when she gets “over tired”, she refuses to go to sleep peacefully. She’ll fuss and scream and cry, all the while barely being able to hold her head up or keep her eyes open. And of course she’s only content in Sarah’s arms when she gets to this point. And by this point, usually, Sarah’s been dealing with her all day and needs a break.

It’s tricky too because what worked one day sometimes won’t work the next. That’s where the frustration comes in. One night you’re able to gently rock her to sleep to a little background noise, and the next you’re practically jumping up and down singing some song over and over and over (the latter being okay if you like the song and you’re down with an aerobic workout at 9, 10, 11 o’clock at night).

Last night was one such night. After trying and trying, Sarah finally passed Maia off to me. I tried gently bouncing her on the ball with the TV as background noise and she wasn’t having it. So I took her in the bedroom, turned off the main light and turned on the bathroom light, and went to work. (Maia prefers a little bit of light when falling asleep.) I sang, “Go to Sleep Little Baby…” over and over and over while smoothly springing up and down, back and forth. I did this till my thighs burned, sweat poured, and I was almost too out of breath to sing anymore. From time to time I glanced down and saw her fighting to stay awake, but she finally gave way to the great sleeping machine called Papa. She was so beautiful and peaceful sleeping in my arms, which I enjoyed for a minute before sweat got in my eyes and I realized my back and arms were killing me. It may be hell getting the little ones to sleep at times, but when you see them with eyes closed and their little minds drifting out of this world, it really makes it all worth it (…but babies are still silly).

birthdays

Maia’s birth story

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Sarah had been having contractions, even strong contractions, on and off for a couple weeks, so when they returned around 5 p.m. on Saturday, November 24, I wasn’t particularly excited or alarmed. Our due date was November 28 but for whatever reason this didn’t feel like “it”. Sarah’s sister Iana had just flown up from San Diego the morning before so she would be in town when baby did actually decide to come. As we were finishing up preparing dinner Sarah began breathing deliberately to ride each contraction out and though the rest of us paused occasionally to observe, we went about our business. That’s the time of day Keana needs the most attention anyway and she was particularly excited to be having dinner with her Tia whom she hadn’t seen in weeks. It’s amazing how much attention a little Keana can gather. Even a laboring Mama on the brink of birth wasn’t gaining quite as much attention…yet.

We finished up dinner and put Keana to bed a little after 8 p.m. and the contractions were still happening, fairly strong, at regular intervals. At this point I still thought this was just “a drill”—practice for the real thing. With Keana we were so anxious, getting ourselves excited and worked up over every contraction. That went on for weeks and by the time Keana really was coming, we had already been awake for two nights and were exhausted. So this time around we knew we would do things differently. We were going to just relax and go with the flow and we’ d know when it was time to get spun up. In this spirit, Sarah decided to have a beer and see if they would stop. Earlier that day, just in case, I tested our video camera and found that the camera thought there was a lens cap on even when there wasn’t. There was no picture, just a black screen. I had called our friends down the street and Jay was going to let me borrow theirs—just in case. As Sarah had her beer and visited with Iana, I headed out to get the replacement camera and pick up some movies to help take our minds off the contractions. After all, they were going to stop pretty soon anyway, but while they were happening we needed a distraction to help us relax.

Jay met me out in front of his house and he showed me briefly how to use the camera. His wife Caroline was pregnant with their second too, so we filled each other in our current situations. I explained to him that Sarah was having contractions as we spoke and something along the lines that I didn’t think tonight was the night and they’d probably go away. I thanked him for the camera and headed to Blockbuster for the movies. I picked up the fine cinematic art pieces Shrek 3 and Knocked Up (I thought it was very appropriate as well).

When I got home Sarah had just finished her beer and the contractions had stopped. She said, “Well, maybe that beer did the trick!” and we put Shrek on. The movie hadn’t even started and the contractions returned, just as strong as before. Eventually they were too strong to focus on the movie and Iana headed off to bed, downstairs with Keana. It was around 10 p.m. I think and it was very apparent that these contractions were much stronger than previous ones. Sarah was groaning fairly loud and her face had the familiar contorting of a woman in serious labor. To be honest, even at this point, I really didn’t believe that we would be meeting our new family member soon. I put on some classical music and began to follow her around the house as she paced between contractions, supporting her when they came and trying to remain calm and breathe with her as each wave came and went. Around 11 p.m. she said, “You better start filling that birth tub if we want to use it for this birth!” Again, still in disbelief, I crept downstairs to hook up the hose to the sink in Keana’s bathroom and began filling our birth tub that had been in our living room upstairs for about two weeks.

Now you may be reading this—especially those of you out there who have experience with second births—thinking, “You crazy, clueless man! OF COURSE YOUR WIFE WAS ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH!” And it will make you even crazier when I tell that at midnight, when Sarah told me to call Cindy our midwife, that I still thought we were going through a lot of trouble for a false alarm. Being the dutiful husband I am though, I called Cindy and explained the situation. She asked if I thought she should come now and I said, “Sure, I mean, if it’s not too much trouble,” thinking that she would just have to turn around and head back to Berkeley.

She arrived shortly after and we all exchanged hugs and she observed a few of the contractions Sarah was having and said with a knowing-wisdom-tone in her voice, “Wow, those are some strong contractions aren’t they? You’re doing a wonderful job Sarah.” When I heard that supportive midwife phrase with that particular “midwifey” tone…that’s the point I think it really started to sink in—we were going to have a baby…TONIGHT!

Cindy asked if Sarah wanted her to check how far along she was, warning that it really didn’t hold as much weight with second-time mom’s. Sarah wanted to know what was going on so in between contractions Cindy examined Sarah. She was six centimeters and her cervix was very soft. The surprised look in Cindy’s face was apparent which prepared me slightly for her next statement, “I’m going to call Tenaya [our assisting midwife] and you better wake Keana up now if she wants to see this baby be born.” Well, I wasn’t quite prepared for such quick action, but quickly and nervously said “okay” and ran downstairs to alert Keana and Iana. They were both already awake, wide with excited eyes, and I asked, “Hey Baby Girl, do you want to come upstairs and see your baby brother-sister be born?” She excitedly answered yes and we headed upstairs for the action.

At this point I should backtrack a little and explain that we had been preparing Keana for some time for this moment. We knew we wanted her to be a part of the experience, but it was important for us that she made the decision as informed as a two-years-and-nine-month-old could be. We had been reading a book, Welcome With Love that had been given to us—which she absolutely loved—and had been watching the movie Birth Day. She seemed quite comfortable with all aspects of the birth process even requesting to watch the part about the placenta several times. We had been afraid that maybe childbirth was too much for a little one to handle, but the more we read and learned, and the more we did with Keana showed us that something as amazing and natural as a new life entering the world was definitely something our kid could handle. Sarah and I also took a birth class for second-time home-birthers that bolstered our confidence quite a bit. Of course we also knew that this was all good in theory, but we had to be open to all kinds of possibilities for Keana’s tolerance once the birth was actually happening—and we were about to find out.

I think the phrase “all hell broke loose” is a bit over the top for this point of the story, but it’s close. So let’s just say, at this point, all hell broke loose. The birth tub wasn’t maintaining heat very well so Cindy and Iana were boiling multiple pots of water to heat the 50-gallon tub in our dining space. Sarah had gotten in the tub to take the edge off the now very constant, very strong contractions, and Cindy was also unpacking all the tricks of her trade all over the living room. Keana was at Sarah’s head with a plastic monkey and a Dora The Explorer toothbrush as her support tools, chiming in, “You’re doing a good job getting that baby out mama!” I had gotten in the tub and was doing everything I could to support Sarah, mostly holding my hands on her lower back to help with the pain.

I remember looking around at all that was going on and thinking how strange it was how clear everything was. With Keana’s birth, not only was I a first-timer, but I was sleeping deprived and the process felt painstakingly slow. Keana’s birth heart-tones were also dropping with every contraction towards the end that added to the general feeling of a state of emergency. But here we were, almost three years later, relatively calm, in the middle of the night, things were moving quite a bit quicker. After each contraction Cindy checked the baby’s heart rate and it was maintaining a strong, steady rhythm. Each time I heard that little heartbeat through the Doppler, my own heart burst with pride for Sarah and the amazing job she was doing, and for the strength of that little being that was working her way into our world.

Tenaya showed up soon after Cindy called her and quietly went about supporting Cindy in whatever she needed; taking notes on the chart, setting up equipment, and many other things that I never saw, I’m sure. Keana was either on Iana’s lap petting Sarah’s head and cheering her on, or she was wondering around the room, inquiring about all the new, fun “toys” that Cindy brought. Cindy did an excellent job responding to Keana even as she was taking care of Sarah.

At one point during the labor, while Sarah was in the tub, it seemed that no matter how hard Sarah was pushing, the baby wasn’t moving. Cindy wasn’t sure exactly what was stalling things, but she always assured us that things were going great. After suggesting that a change in position might help, she and Sarah talked about the options and decided to move to the birth stool that she had brought. Throughout the entire process up to this point, Sarah was very present and clear-headed, and at this moment asked for some Rescue Remedy, which is a homeopathic medicine that’s supposed to aid in stressful times. After taking a dose of that, and between contractions, we moved Sarah to the birth stool, wrapping towels around her to keep her warm. Someone also placed a Chux pad on the couch for me to the furniture dry so I could sit behind Sarah to support her. After a couple contractions on the stool, Cindy asked Sarah if it was all right if she broke her water. Sarah agreed and things started to progress, but the baby still wasn’t coming out. Once again we discussed options and decided to move to the bed with Sarah pulling her knees to her head in an effort to open things up for the baby.

It was quickly apparent that this was going to do the trick and it wasn’t long before we started to see the dark, wet hair on the top of Baby’s head. It was also at the point that Sarah really began to scream and when it was too much for Keana, she into the bathroom to play in the sink. Keana had expressed earlier that she wanted to touch the baby’s head as it came out, so we asked her if she still wanted to do this. She took one look and exclaimed, “That’s too messy!” and decided to go back in the bathroom to play. After several more contractions, with Cindy gently helping Sarah to stretch, Baby’s head emerged, mouth open with sputters and a short cry. It was truly amazing. Cindy told me it was time to come catch the baby and I left Sarah’s side to be in place. With the next contraction her shoulders came through and the instant her hands were free, they shot up into the air, towards the ceiling, dramatically embracing the air about her new world. My eyes filled with tears of joy and pride and the room was filled with almost nervous laughter. It’s a magical moment when those present at a birth want to laugh and cry and scream and jump and be respectfully silent for the gravity of the situation all at once. What’s actually released seems to be all those things, each one slightly overlapping the next so what emerges is a stifled laugh, an enormous smile, and tears bursting from the corners of your eyes. Keana proclaimed how cute the little baby was and for a while, our new family member remained halfway in Sarah and halfway in our hands. When she came out she actually corkscrewed so at this point she was facing Sarah, with Sarah, Cindy, and I all holding her. The contractions had subsided a bit and we didn’t know exactly what to do. Even with Cindy’s experience she wasn’t totally sure what to do next. We knew we didn’t want to pull her out but with no contractions to push her out, the solution wasn’t clear. Baby decided for us and kicked her way out, slipping into our hands. Once free we immediately moved her to Sarah’s breast to comfort her and all present stated how perfect, amazing, and beautiful she was.

I would also like to note that until this very moment, we had no idea what the baby’s gender was. But as I passed her up to Sarah I caught a glimpse and was the first to say, “It’s a girl!” a statement that was lost in all the excitement. Secretly though I was happy that on both occasions of our children being born, I was the very first to know.

We’ve come to the point of the story where I can say the rest is history. Cindy and Tenaya went about checking Baby’s heart rate and breathing while tending to Sarah. The placenta was born without much trouble and it was complete and beautiful, and at the time of this story being written, now sits in our freezer for some momentous occasion I’m sure, of which we have no idea about at the moment.

So the short end of it is that on November 25, 2007, at 3:11 a.m., we welcomed Maia Ilani Hokama into the world. She was 6 pounds 13 ounces and was 20 inches long. Along with Sarah, Keana, and I, Tia Iana and Midwives Cindy and Tenaya were present. We couldn’t have asked for a better homebirth and there could be no second baby more beautiful, more strong, or more perfect than our Maia.

Welcome Maia. We love you.