JANUARY (7 months)
Weight: 8.135 kg = 17.9 lbs
Height: 72 cm = 28.3 in
Head circumference: 46 cm = 18.1 in
I know, I know. I’m posting January’s stats in February, but oh well. At least they’re here. With that way the months keep flying by, it’s no wonder parents resort to counting by years instead of months! I remember after celebrating the third day (or so) of cloth diapers, I thought to myself, “Why in the world am I counting the days!? Who wants to reach the 452nd day of cloth diapers!!”
The babe is doing great, although his pediatrician was a little concerned at our last visit due to Mishael’s low weight gain; however, Mishael grew three centimeters, so he’s obviously not starving. After talking with several other moms (including my own), I decided to chalk it up to MR’s lack of weight gain to (1) his active lifestyle — the kid does not sit still! — and (2) his transition to solid food.
Finger lickin' good!
Yes, we’re in the transitioning mode to solids, which includes a new array of sights and smells on both the dinner table as well as the changing table!
The transition has been an interesting cultural experience. When we began feeding Mishael solids, his pediatrician wrote out an elaborate schedule, which included a variety of things that I disagreed with (i.e. starting out on a mixture of foods, including citrus fruits, etc.), so I smiled, nodded, and carefully tucked the schedule in MR’s folder for safe keeping. Then I proceeded to begin asking mom-friends and researching on the internet how to transition to solids.
My training has included making baby food, which is not difficult to do but it is time consuming as the only dishwasher in our house walks around on two feet and answers to “mommy.” Then again, most baby-oriented tasks are time-consuming, aren’t they? So little-by-little we’re making progress, enjoying the adventure every step of the way!
After this meal with squash, Mishael lost the privilege of eating on the couch. Anyone wonder why!
Brazilian bananas must have a stronger taste as evidenced in Mishael's initial reaction; however, they're now a favorite, especially when mixed with apple.
Mishael playing with his food (sweet potatoes and spinach).
"What do you mean there's no more mango!?"
You may notice the varying background in Mishael’s meal pictures. That’s because until a week ago, we didn’t have a high chair for him, which presented some inconveniences but was definitely d0-able. (We “secured” him to a stack of plastic chairs.) Now, however, we’ve upgraded to a Fisher Price booster seat (a special thanks to the Dennis Family Freight Co.) and Mama Bear has never been happier. Who knew how much a tray and a seatbelt — oh, and a washable surface! — could simplify mealtime! But it’s the little things that keep life exciting!
Nothing "beets" a new high chair for this happy boy!
DECEMBER (6 months)
Weight: 7.9 kg = 17.42 lbs
Height: 69 cm = 27.2 in
Head circumference: 45 cm = 17.7 in
With another month under his belt (literally), Mishael continues to grow – and in more ways than one! Notice anything different about his smile?
Happily, Mishael’s two bottom teeth made their appearance just in time for G’ma Lundberg to get a good look at them during her Thanksgiving visit. Although a runny nose and excessive drool played a prelude to the teeth’s simultaneous debute, Mishael continued to make mommyhood easy through his relaxed acceptance of his new teeth, a definite blessing!
Five months, já? Time certainly flies when your having fun. Or maybe it’s just all those diapers that make it such a blur.
NOVEMBER (5 months)
Weight: 7.375 kg = 16.26 lbs
Height: 67 cm = 26.4 in
Head circumference: 44 cm = 17.3 in
At any rate, we visited Dr. Airton near the end of November for Mishael’s five-month check-up. Mishael is doing great, still putting on weight (who knew that was a good thing!?) and gearing up to introduce solids next month, which will prove to be another interesting culture point in my care of Mishael.
Overall “baby food” means something very different to a Brazilian mom than an American one. The tentative schedule I received from the doctor favors much more fruit than vegetables. The majority of fruits are juices and the vegetables are all soups, both mixtures rather than individual fruits or vegetables. Interestingly, the Brazilians don’t usually cook apple before feeding it to babies. Instead they cut the apple in half horizontally (contrary to the typical horizontal American cut); then, cupping one half of it like a small bowl, they scrape out a small bite with a spoon. What will they think when I make applesauce? But that is not my only planned modification.
The majority of research that I have done so far encourages introducing one (steamed then puréed) vegetable/fruit at a time over a course of 3-5 days (even up to a week) to help detect allergies. The plan is to start with carrots, followed by banana (uncooked, of course), and then perhaps spinach to get a “green” in (peas aren’t an option here). How’s that for an exciting menu plan? I’m sure that what Mishael’s pediatrician will think, as well!
With that said, if anybody has some “baby food” advice, tips or perhaps a more concrete schedule, etc., please do share. As a rookie, I can use all the advice I can get, especially since I won’t be buying baby food. Until recently, baby food bottles weren’t even available in the stores. Now they are, but they are incredibly expensive (kind of like the Campbell’s soup I unexpectedly encountered the other day). Besides, homemade food is healthier. (Isn’t that true of most foods?) So let the adventure begin!
Mishael watching Sunday afternoon "football" with Daddy.
Mishael helping Mommy with the laundry...principally by self-entertainment and the use of very little clothing.
Curious minds want to know. Of those, of those, it’s usually the mothers who pay attention to growth stats. The long and the short of Mishael’s measurements is he’s definitely growing (PTL!). In attempt to get current, I’m going to play catch-up in this post and put in Mishael’s stats from birth to now (which makes them more impressive, anyway!).
BIRTH
Weight: 2.840 kg = 6.25 lbs
Height: 50 cm = 19.7 in
Head circumference: 34 cm
JULY (1 month)
Weight: 3.920 kg = 8.64 lbs
Height: 54 cm = 21.3 in
Head circumference: 38 cm = 15 in
AUGUST (2 months)
Weight: 4.970 kg = 10.96 lbs
Height: 58 cm = 22.8 in
Head circumference: 40 cm = 15.7 in
SEPTEMBER (3 months)
Weight: 5.675 kg = 12.51 lbs
Height: 62 cm = 24.4
Head circumference: 42 cm = 16.5 in
OCTOBER (4 months)
Weight: 6.725 kg = 14.83 lbs
Height: 65 cm = 25.6 in
Head circumference: 43 cm = 16.9 in
Mishael (mee-shy-L’) Lundberg Rodrigues celebrated his first “birth-day” on 6/20 @ 6:20 am, weighing 6.25 pounds and measuring ~ 20 inches. And yes, it’s only taken me four months to officially announce it!
Before I continue , I would like to state for the record that I actually started this post on June 23; however, we had no internet at the apartment, then we moved and school started and…well, oh well. Better late than never, right? At least, that’s what Fred and I said about my obstetrician’s presence during Mishael’s delivery!
Mishael’s first due date was June 19, meaning it was the due date given by Dr. Marinaldo, my obstetrician. ( For those of you who were counting, we had to change doctors three times, the last time at 33 weeks.) On that morning I woke up with contractions, although it took me a while to recognize them as such.
I had felt contractions before, of course; but after a time I realized that these were much more regular and lower in my abdomen than the typical Braxton-Hicks. At some point, I decided to time them and, sure enough, they measured at twenty minutes apart; so I called my local medical expert Carol Dennis. She agreed that it could be the onset of labor, so per “the doctor’s” orders, I put my laptop in my backpack and went to spend the day resting up for the big event at the Dennis house.
It was a rather uneventful wait. Although the contractions weren’t necessarily painful, they were regular, so it was hard to ignore them. I had a little diversion when some friends stopped by around lunch time to discuss church business, but throughout and after the meeting, my contractions continued at a steady twenty.
After lunch, Carol suggested I take a nap. Obediently, I laid down on the couch but to no avail; I couldn’t sleep, more because of anticipation than pain. When I had rested enough to please Carol, she suggested a walk in an attempt to speed up the process. The physical activity did cut the time down to fifteen minutes apart, but it was a small improvement; and the moment I stopped moving, so did the 15-minute contractions, rebounding back up to 20-minute intervals.
I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for that evening, and Carol advised me to pack the car for the hospital just in case the contractions sped up during the predicted hours-long wait for our notoriously tardy doctor. (Remember that because it’s going to be significant later on.) While we waited, we walked, visiting a nearby grocery store to kill time and quicken the contractions. By the time we finally got in to see Dr. Gervasio that night (two hours later than our scheduled time), the contractions were about 10 minutes apart; however, we were disappointed to discover that after an entire day of labor, I was only dilated one centimeter. Dr. Gervasio told us to go home, suggesting that if I did not open up to three centimeters by Sunday, he would induce labor.
We returned home where I again worked diligently to put the contractions out of my mind, especially since Dr. Gervasio had predicted such a long wait; but the contractions proved more willful than my mind, and I had difficulty sleeping. Around 2:00 AM (when I was up for the umpteenth time), I decided to measure the contractions to see if there had been any progress and was surprised to discover that they were now only five minutes apart — no wonder I had had trouble sleeping!
I woke Fred up, then hurriedly went to get ready in the bathroom. When I returned a few minutes later, I discovered that Sleeping Beauty hadn’t budged, so I woke him up again, this time emphasizing the timing of my contractions. That got his attention.
As Fred loaded the car, I called and alerted Carol, who was to accompany us to the hospital. When we picked her up a short time later, Fred took the passenger seat, too nervous to drive. The drive was relatively simple as there were no other cars on the road (That’s the first and only time I’ve seen Washington Suares empty!), and I was “maintaining” in the backseat until we reached a section of cobblestone road. Wowzers!! Nothing like a few jolts here and there to encourage a baby’s arrival! It’s just too bad I hadn’t thought of that earlier.
The hospital was dark when we arrived, including the reception area where we had previously been instructed to register. The night guard, watching over the few cars parked out front, was kind enough to find me a wheelchair. Since the reception area was closed, we went up to the maternity ward to see who we could find there. (Thankfully I knew where it was from a previous visit.)
You need to understand that Brazilian hospitals function very differently from those in the U.S. (something to keep in mind as socialized medicine is encouraged more and more in the States). They are often understaffed and, I would argue, under-trained. In the maternity ward, there is no perpetual doctor on duty because a woman’s obstetrician is always the same one who delivers the baby. They are alerted – or, in the case of the majority, scheduled – and meet their patient at the hospital. That’s why you don’t hear any stories about a Brazilian woman suffering through an extended labor. It just doesn’t happen because the doctor, weary of waiting, opts to deliver the baby by c-section. (There are also some external factors, like the absence of a reliable internal heart rate monitor, etc.) I had discussed these issues various times with my own obstetrician who, due to my strong wish and disposition to have a natural birth, was willing to wait up to ten hours for the delivery; but at this point, considering the proximity of my contractions along with the fact that neither he nor any other doctor was present, that point was moot.
In the maternity ward, we encountered “Nurse Fatima” who was apparently in charge of the very few on night duty. She seemed disgruntled at being disturbed and when she measured me at only 2 centimeters apart, she deemed that I was not yet far enough along and ordered me back home. Both Carol and Fred, however, appealed on the basis of my five-minute contractions and asked Fatima to call my doctor. She did so reluctantly. Much to her chagrin, Dr. Gervasio insisted that I be admitted into the hospital (I had told him about my mom’s quick labors.) and ordered Fatima to perform a second touch-test in one hour’s time. It was 3:30 AM.
Our room was basic but nice with an extra bed for a caregiver (explained in following paragraph), a small “closet,” a dorm fridge and, of course, hammock hooks! It was very different from the U.S. experience, but also different from the Brazilian experience in a public hospital, God’s gracious provision through Fred’s company insurance.
Once we were settled into the room, Fatima and her assistant left. In Brazil, as in other countries, family is expected to take care of the patient. There is no labor nurse to give instruction (we never did find a place that taught Lamaze!), take blood pressure readings regularly or monitor the health of the baby. We were left to ourselves while the contractions progressed.
Poor Fred, being new to the whole experience, wasn’t sure what to do! Carol wanted him to take part as much as possible, but she (and others!) had warned him that I might not be in the best mood. As predicted by my mother, the contractions naturally started coming more quickly and soon were down to every two minutes and very intense. Nurse Fatima, however, failed to return.
Upon Carol’s insistence, I was struggling not to bear down and had heard plenty of “Don’t push! Breathe, breathe!” Finally, at 5:00 AM, Carol urged Fred to fetch Fatima. (Say that five times fast.) Fred returned quickly but was only later (twenty minutes?) followed by Fatima who sauntered in, unaffected by my state of being. She casually measured, then said, “Well, it appears that somebody’s going to have a baby tonight.” Thank you, Captain Obvious. (It’s just as well that I had to focus all my energies on resisting the contractions at that moment!!)
Fatima left to go call Dr. Gervasio and we continued with the wait game. I later learned that when Fatima talked with Dr. Gervasio, he asked if he had time to take a shower. Fatima’s response? “A half-of-a-shower.” (I kid you not!)
During this time, my water broke, and a short time later, I felt Mishael’s head begin to crown. When I bellowed, “He’s out! He’s coming out!” the quick-thinking Carol clamped my legs shut and pushed me onto my side, which is how Dr. Gervasio found me when he finally arrived at 5:40 AM.
Bobbling into the room in his Santa-Claus style, Dr. Gervasio grinned upon seeing me and asked me to roll over so he could examine me. I answered, “Doctor, if I roll over, this baby is going to come out!” At that point, Dr. Gervasio took a peek, and that was sufficient for him. He asked the nurse to bring down the delivery equipment from the Surgical Center (deliveries are not done in individual rooms here in Brazil). The nurse quickly left to comply with the order. A short time later, the door opened, however, it was Fatima who appeared – a little cup of coffee in hand! – and began to reason with Dr. Gervasio about the impossibility of transporting all the equipment. For whatever reason, Dr. Gervasio agreed.
At this point,the nurses wheeled a gurney into the room and asked me to move over on to it. Once again, I said, “If I move, this baby is coming out!” Not to be outdone, Fatima told Fred to grab the top corners of my sheet while she grabbed the bottom lower corners; then the two lifted me onto the gurney.
All this time, Carol was talking to me, reminding me to use my energies for breathing and not pushing! She continued with me down the hall. Somewhere along the line, we paused for some reason or other (I was a little preoccupied with other things to pay much attention). At that moment, a strong contraction hit. As I began to give in and push, Carol’s face suddenly popped out from behind the nurse standing beside me. “Don’t push! Not yet!!” I will never forget that moment. Had I not been wanting to push so badly, I would have laughed. What a trooper and friend!! I can honestly say that were it not for calm, cool, collected Carol, the morning’s events would have gone very differently! Such a wonderful provision from God – truly!!
With that said, Carol was left behind as I was wheeled into the Surgical Center. It is rare for a Brazilian dad to watch the birth of his child, let alone someone else. Fred, too, was absent as he was getting dressed in hospital garb. As for the nurses present, they seemed a bit unorganized, probably because they so rarely perform natural births and were unfamiliar with routine.
As the gurney was wheeled alongside the surgery table, a nurse worked frantically at removing the leg stirrup. With the way I was feeling, I was about ready to push her out of the way and say, “Let me do it!” But finally Dr. Gervasio stepped in and detached it. He then asked me, once again, to change tables. I gave him the same answer as before, but he encouragingly insisted, “Try”; so I did. I grabbed the surgery table with my hands and dragged my lower half behind as the nurses tried to hold back the damp sheet while getting a clean one under me.
Once on the surgery table, the doctor said, “Okay, turn over onto your back.” I simply answered, for the last time, “Doctor, if I move, this baby is going to come out!” Watching him through the reflection in an above lamp, I saw Dr. Gervasio secure Mishael’s crowning head with his hands, then he said, “Okay. Turn now!” I flipped, waiting for the inevitable. As soon as I was turned over, Dr. Gervasio gave me the go-ahead to push. I asked only once, “You’re sure you’re ready?” He nodded, and I pushed. Twice. And no, they were not long, drawn out pushes. It was more like two grunts, and POOF! A brand new baby!! (I never did get my legs in the stirrups, which was just as well considering they never returned the one the nurse worked so hard to take off!)
All in all, I was in the Surgical Center a whopping five minutes before Mishael was born. At that moment, Fred walked in. “No, no, no!” he said. “Put that boy back in!” but it was too late. Better late than never, right?
Now, aren’t you glad you stuck with me to the end! Well, that wasn’t actually the end of our adventures in the maternity ward, but that’s where I’m going to stop for today!
Well, it’s official. For better, for worse, for richer, and for poorer, my baby brother is a married man. Josh and Jill’s wedding was last night, and since Fred and I couldn’t be in the States for the wedding, we found another way to participate in the festivities…
For those who have had the pleasure of having
my dear mother as Sunday school teacher,
or have caught a glimpse inside of Lundberg pencil drawer,
this will make PERFECT sense (pun fully intended!).
Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
I am my mother after all!
(Acceptance is the first step, right Joshy?)
Last Wednesday, after receiving the news of Grandpa’s death, my family learned that my Uncle Darrell, who is married to my dad’s sister Adeline and farms in Northern Iowa, fell 27 feet while working in the barn on Tuesday night. Initially, he was taken to the hospital in Fort Dodge; but the orthopedic surgeon was gone on vacation, so he was moved to Mercy Hospital in Des Moines.
Again, God’s careful and gracious orchestration of the events gave us cause to be thankful. In spite of his long fall, Uncle Darrell did not hit his head or hurt his back; and because he had his cell phone with him, he was able to call my aunt for help. Also, because we were already in the Des Moines area for Grandpa’s funeral, my parents and I were able to spend time with Darrell and Adeline in the hospital. The surgery went well, and Uncle Darrell is making a good recovery – at least, it appeared so to me! So as you pray for my family, please include my uncle and aunt in your prayers. It will be a while before Darrell is fully recovered, and in the meantime, there are chores to do. (Funny how that works.)
Love you, Uncle Darrell and Aunt Adeline!
Uncle Darrell with Parker and Austin at the Wedding Celebration,
just a few days previous to the accident.
I find myself unexpectedly blogging away from home this evening.
It began with a phone call early Wednesday morning conveying the news that my grandfather Jerry Austin had passed away during the night. After some quick arrangments and a few more phone calls, my parents and I left for the Des Moines area later that afternoon, where we have been since then.
The last time I saw my grandfather was a little over a month ago. Grandpa appeared healthy, so it was a surprise when he was hospitalized a short while later after suffering a seisure. Once there, an MRI revealed dementia, a fast-acting one which radically altered my grandpa in a mere few weeks time.
It will seem odd to say considering the circumstances, but I am thankful. Life is incredibly busy at the moment with Brazil travel arrangments (actually, MOVING arrangements for me!!) and wedding plans, along with follow-up to Friday night’s festivities. Still I am thankful that God, in His grace, allowed this to happen now.
Although my parents and I are still waiting for official news on our visas, we plan to leave for Brazil in just two weeks time. Grandpa’s death would have been much more difficult on my mother had it happened while she was in Brazil, not to mention how it would taint and dampen the joy of the trip. I’m also thankful that it happened while I am still here. My grandmother has physically digressed over the past year, but along with that, I have also prepared myself for the fact that she may very well pass away before I find myself stateside again. It would not have been so with Grandpa.
I was reading about thankfulness today in Humility, True Greatness in which C.J. Mahaney encourages Christians to begin their day with gratitude instead of gumbling. He quotes Michael Ramsey who said, “Thankfulness is a soil in which pride does not easily grow.”
How true, which is why I am prone to grow more humble the closer I draw to the cross, for it is then I realize more acutely how unworthy I am and how great is my God. ”The cross never flatters us…Far from offering us flattery, the cross undermines our self-righteousness, and we can stand before it only with a bowed head and a broken spirit” (p.68) That is why Mahaney suggests to start one’s day acknowledging his dependence upon God.
Sin-including the sin of pride-is active, not passive. Sin doesn’t wake up tired
because it hasn’t been sleeping…Most of us spend more time listening to lies
than we do speaking truth to ourselves. And the listening process usually
starts as soon as we get up. The alarm has rudely interrupted the gift of sleep,
and the listening begins. A we stumble through our morning routine, we’re not
directing the thoughts in our mind-we’re simply at their mercy. We entertain
complaints about yesterday or worries about what’s coming today. We look in
the bathroom mirror and assess the damage, then brood over ow we feel.
We’re not in charge of our thinking. We’re just there. (pp.69-70)
Sorry. Just a little rabbit trail there.
Returning to the situation at hand, I ask for and covet your prayers, especially for my mother. Grieving, while lessened by the hope we have in Christ, always involves loss; and God knows our frame, that we are but dust (Ps.103:14). Spurgeon says in his Treasury of David, “[God] always takes our frailty into account when He is apportioning to us our lot. Blessed be his holy name for this gentleness towards his frail creatures.”
With that, pray also for my father. There’s just a lot going on with family right now, including more minor emergencies like the drain backing up Saturday night and the refrigerator breaking down Sunday morning. My “lot” currently includes a rash (very much like poison ivy) which appeared Sunday morning, after a family work day in which we removed some pine trees from the backyard. The fun just never stops at the Lundberg house!
Indeed, blessed be His name! With Him the adventure never ends. Thankfully neither does His mercy or grace!
Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart.
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.
…knowing that He who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into His presence. For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:1a,7-11,14-18
