Geaux Saints!

Nick, Nola and I are so excited about the Saints season kicking off to a stellar start. Here we have a picture of little Miss Nola in a Drew Brees' jersey that her Auntie Jaimee gave her.

While we're only two games into the season, we already have a game-time ritual that we think gives the Saints lots of luck:

1. The Saints flag is hung before the start of the game.
2. Nick, Nola, Rocky and I all get our respective jerseys on.
3. Rocky goes outside to cope with the fact that he has a jersey on.
4. Mommy feeds and burps Nola.
5. Nola spits up on her jersey and mommy's.
6. The Saints win!

So far, we feel that our little game day ritual has been pretty good luck for our beloved team, so we plan on keeping it up throughout the season.

My Breast Friend

So Nola and my boobs are involved in a very passionate love-hate relationship. Both boobs are equally committed to Nola, while she has an obvious and shameless preference for the left one.

Now to be honest, my boobs have never been equivalent in size, but now -- with all of this preferential treatment -- lefty is much larger. I've had to sneak the right one on her when she least expects it, otherwise it will leak all over the place (which is another gross post-partum side effect that never really registered with me before it actually started happening.)

To complicate this little love triangle, Nola has been pretty abusive to both boobs. She punches them quite frequently -- especially when we are laying down in the evening -- when I'm a little bit less attentive, and allow the boob to sneak away from her mouth. And this punching thing was something that didn't really concern me until I woke up the other morning, and sure enough there was a little bruise on her favorite boob. At first I figured that she may be punching me harder than I thought, but upon closer inspection, it became clearer that the bruise was a hickey!

Now I've assumed all along -- as any parent would -- that she was an advanced child, but this is going a little bit too far. I don't know if Nick and I should sit down and have "the talk" with Nola at this early stage. It does make me wonder if all of those episodes of "Rock of Love Bus" that I watched when I was pregnant somehow seeped through -- and influenced Nola's aggressive and passionate behavior -- especially towards boobs.

Regardless of where she learned it, I do wonder if my boobs are going to make it through a six months to a year of this tumultuous relationship.

After Birth

There's no book entitled "What to Expect Your Body to Look Like After You're Done Expecting," although I think it would be a great addition to Heidi Murkoff's series. I knew that my body wouldn't whip back into the pre-pregnancy state of pudginess, but I didn't anticipate that I would look so much like Mrs. Doubtfire's bodysuit.

I think that my post-partum issues were exacerbated by the fact that I had been prescribed one heck of a strong painkiller, and upon returning home, started working towards earning my keep as a stay-at-home mommy, rather than resting as any sane, stitched-up, sleep-deprived person would do. I would probably still be on the meds (they were great, I have to admit), had it not been for the fact that they were completely constipating... which was the last thing that region of my body needed to deal with at the time.

Speaking of the hinterlands... I've had lots of talks with girlfriends prior to embarking on the baby making journey, but for some reason all of the words of warning ("hemorrhoids," "tearing," "stretch marks...") were deafened by the precious coos of their little babies. It has definitely been worth while, as I glance over at her inquisitive little face, and know that even though my body has been rolled over by Mack Truck, I would do it all over again just to see her smile.

Co-sleepless Nights

We've been home from the hospital for over a week, but are still going through the adjustment of life with our precious Nola.

Overall, she's been an incredible baby -- at least that's what my mom keeps on telling us. She has taken well to breastfeeding, and even gained a full pound in a week. We've only had a few distraught nights of sleeplessness, due to our feeble attempts to figure out what her different cries mean.

It's been so nice having family (my mom has been here since we've been home from the hospital, helping out and taking lots of pictures like the one at the top of the blog entry -- and Nick's family has made us loads of food and helped out around the house) and friends (Sarah & Tony dropped by with bags full of baby goodies & food) and neighbors who have been so good to us. Healing from the labor and delivery has been a longer journey than I anticipated, so all of the help has been such a welcome and wonderful gift.

We've been co-sleeping (I know, Erin, counter to your warnings of 'No exit strategy!') so we get a close-up view of her little face each morning (the picture to the right has been my vantage point for the past few days),and the peace of mind that she's breathing and content (something Nick and I both seem to be checking on regularly -- evidenced by our bleary-eyed whack-a mole-styled awakenings throughout the night). However, our recent doctor's visit came with a strong warning against it (due to a bad experience he had with another patient), so we transitioned into a bedside "arms reach co-sleeper" bassinet last night -- and probably had the first unfettered two hours of sleep in a row since Nola was delivered.

We're certainly learning as we go, but thought we'd share a few nuggets of wisdom gained in the 11 days of little Miss Nola's life:

1. Putting on a onesie doesn't have to take two and a half hours -- although, it usually seems to when I'm involved in the process.
2. Saving an umbilical cord SOUNDS a lot cooler than it actually is.
3. Not every cry is gas or hunger -- sometimes Nola seems to be protesting the fact that Nick and I are really inexperienced at this whole parenting thing... but I think she knows that we're working really hard on it!

Akls = 1, Grumpy Ultrasound Technician = 0

Actually, the Akls have 3! Nola Bibi Akl entered the world at 8:37 pm on Saturday, July 25. She weighed in at a svelte 8 pounds 15 ounces, versus the 11 pound baby we had been anticipating -- thanks to our nemesis, the Grumpy Ultrasound Technician. Okay, from here on out, I promise to stop obsessing -- as we have someone much more important in our lives to obsess about now!

We knew that we just might be on the verge of the birth experience we had been anticipating for so many months, as my water broke in the middle of the night, at 1:15 am on Saturday morning, and we rushed to the hospital, full of the excitement of what was to come -- and Nick's specific excitement over the fact that he would now be able to use his i-phone application, i-contraction.

When we got to the hospital, we learned that the doctor on call only wanted for us to have a C-section as a final effort to deliver if, and only if, labor failed to progress -- and we didn't even have to refer to our Ultrasound Technician as grumpy for the doctor to be dismissive of his assessment.

After allowing labor to progress for seven hours (to lots of pain, accompanied by lots of puking), we finally got the epidural at 9 am, and everything from that point on started to look brighter. We figured we were close to the end of the labor part of things.

Anyhow, we were wrong. Twelve hours, multiple bags of I.V. fluids, and a few more puking sessions later, we were ready to endure the estimated two hours of pushing to meet our little baby. Very long story short (and this is to save Nick the embarrassment of mentioning that he nearly fainted), three pushes later, we became the proud parents of Nola Bibi Akl!

Here she is world! Don't you just love her?

We're having a C-section

Disclaimer: This is not actually a picture of Nola, but could be close if the Ultrasound Technician is right!

So our doctor agreed with the tech: We have a big baby, and ultimately urged us to schedule a C-section, to avoid any risk. Our somber car ride back from the Dr.'s office included this sad conversation:


Me: (stifling sobs in the passenger seat) The only way I know how to show love to things is to make them fat. I made Nola fat. (All the while, by the way, my tear-filled eyes are riveted on the "In & Out Burger" as we pass it on the way home.)

Nick: (driving, while trying to comfort me) Don't be silly. What do you mean?

Me: (whimpering now) Just look at Sid (our very fat cat). Everytime he comes to me I give him a can of food - sometimes four a day. If I were Rocky's only owner (Rocky, our very lean dog, thanks to Nick), he would be obese because of all the junk I feed him. (sniffle, sniffle)

Nick: Oh, don't be silly. Nola is very loved, and you don't use food to show love. She will be just fine.

Me: (sniffle) Thank you, baby. (wipes eyes, and takes deep breath) So, do you want pick up something to eat?


Even though we know that this is the best decision for our baby, I think both Nick and I have had this image in our mind that we would have a cartoony-frantic-running-to-the-hospital-in-the-middle-of-the-night-because-the-water-broke type of experience, and now we just now we won't.

So, for now, unless we go into labor, and have to rush in for a C-section over the weekend, we are scheduled to deliver at 7:30 am on Tuesday, July 28. Our little (scratch that: BIG) Nola will share a birthday with her Aunt Allyson!

Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers that morning. We post any changes in the plan, should they occur!

Fat baby, fat mama

So, Nick and I went in for a fetal non-stress test this morning, and Nola looked great -- she passed with flying colors. However, we are one week over our due date, so the doctor compromised with us (we desperately want to go into labor naturally) that we would induced Monday night, if she doesn't come naturally over the weekend.

Fair enough; however, he did want for us to see the grumpy ultrasound technician one more time before heading home. So we did, and of course, he enjoyed raining on our parade.

The grumpy technician's report is that she has plenty of amniotic fluid, but she is a big, big baby. Anyhow, he estimated her weight to be 10 pounds 8 ounces, stating that there is a plus or minus one pound standard deviation. Again, we did our little plus or minus dance, when he said, "She could be 11 pounds 8 ounces." To which I replied, "...or 9 pounds 8 ounces?" To which he gruffly laughed and said, "Unlikely." He then told us to stay put while he called the doctor to report his findings.

Anyhow, Nick and I are going to the doctor's office right away to see what our options are. I thought we'd just take a minute to post this info -- just in case we get stuck in Ventura delivering our big baby.