Somehow, Stina is the only one unscathed by the mighty Jasper pee. If this lasts for much longer, I might try to personally level the playing field the next times she’s sleeping. . .
Things that are surprising:
Things that are not surprising:
Oh, also, as an aside, all militant breast milk advocates can go to hell. I’m down with non-militant ones though. I’d totally party with them. All night long. Especially if they brought their boobs, which seems highly likely. There are advantages to having low expectations. Booyeah!
What Jasper thinks of life outside the womb.
Stiner’s water broke on Thursday (3/6) afternoon. Since contractions didn’t begin with any sort of regularity, we stumbled without sleep into the hospital at 7am on Friday morning to get induced. The triage nurse was quite amused with us, and our first nurse (Sonja) chose to work with us after hearing the laugher from our triage area.
They started a pitocin drip to begin the induction at 9am. From 11am to 3pm Stina, experienced increasingly painful contractions in her back, clearly indicated that the baby was in OP position.
When Sonja finally checked her cervix at 3pm (they limit the number of fingers in her VJJ if the bag has already ruptured), we discovered that she was only 2cm dilated. Patents are usually not admitted into the hospital unless they are at least 3cm dilated. Stina was already in pretty extreme discomfort, so by 4pm, I made the call to order the epidural, which we planning on doing eventually. The actual insertion of the epidural was rather traumatic (combine a fear of needles and a hatred of spine being touched), but the effects were amazing. They cranked up the pitocin, and from 4pm to 6pm she dilated to 4cm with no discomfort, verifying that we made an excellent decision. Occasionally, when Stina had a contraction, the baby’s heartbeat would significantly drop, creating a solid moment of panic along the way. Nothing really came of it, but nurses were closely monitoring the heartbeat all evening.
By 11pm she was fully dilated and the baby was in +2 position, meaning we were ready to push. The nurses told us that because the baby was to low in the pelvis, that pushing shouldn’t take so long. That unfortunately set some inaccurate expectations.
Our doctor is a rather unique individual. He has this incredibly dry sense of humor that is pervasive through everything he does. He constantly makes funny, sort of satirical, facial expressions. Its easy to understand why some patients would not get along with him. We really like him and find his personality amusing. He visited us in the labor room in the morning and early evening to check in. He was not on call that night, but to our utter amazement, he decided to help us deliver the baby anyways. He had a scheduled c-section on Friday night, so he checked in before he left at 10pm, and then nurses called him back in at 11pm. The nurses didn’t know what to make of him.
When he arrived, he gave Stina some coaching. He made what we all (nurse inclusive) thought were joking references to passing out on the labor room couch and that there would be snoring. Low and behold, five minutes later, he did exactly that.
So try to imagine the scene, where Stina is pushing with all her might, the nurses and I are voraciously encouraging her, and our doctor is snoring loudly on the couch. Crazy surreal. Of all the labor prep we had done, we hadn’t devoted any attention to pushing, and Stina wasn’t prepared for how physically challenging it would be. She was pushing with all her might, and the baby was only making very moderate progress through the birth canal. After an hour and half of pushing, the doctor woke up, and got involved.
He gave Stina another hour to push, and at that point we could see about a silver dollar’s worth of the baby’s head. He determined that her vagina wasn’t big enough to accommodate the baby’s giant head. After two and half hours of pushing, Stina was physically and mentally exhausted, and the doctor made the call to perform a vacuum assisted delivery.
The room suddenly filled up with doctors and nurses. I think that vacuum assisted delivery must be something of a rarity in the hospital. The doctor said we could do three attempts with the vacuum (anymore would be too stressful for the baby). His first attempt was a failure. I saw what looked like the bottom of a muffin being pulled from our baby’s head (the result of the suctioning). It was really freaky. I mentally knew he wasn’t hurting the baby, but I couldn’t understand how this wasn’t damaging the baby’s brain. The baby went into distress (heart dropped to 50 bpm, where the baseline is about 140 bpm). Stina was fitted with oxygen and the doctor performed an episiotomy. Things got really intense really quickly. Stina was both completely spent and totally panicked. I was attempting to video tape the birth, but I immediately dropped that task and got right in her face. We had that moment of connection that two people share during an extremely powerful moment. I experienced tunnel vision – the 6 other medical professionals weren’t in the same dimension as Stina and I. I consoled her, encouraged her, loved her, and pushed her as hard as she could go even though she was tapped. This was it. She gave a huge push, the doctor pulled with the vacuum, and the baby’s head came out. Now that was a CRAZY sight. Stina needed to do one more push, and though she had nothing left, she managed to give one last huge push and the baby came out.
I’m not sure if I can find the words for what swept over me. In moments like this, part of me is usually detached, observing the situation while experiencing it. Not this time. My entire self was simply overwhelmed with emotion. I found myself crying hysterically. I didn’t expect to. I’m still not sure if it was joy, shock, relief, pride, love, or some combination therein. Whatever it was, I still choke up thinking back to that moment, even though my son is right in front of me. Jasper Rudden Kirsch was born at 2:23 am in Berkeley, CA. 7 lbs, 1 oz, most of which is head. He’s long and skinny, and somewhat Asian looking. I’m really hoping this is from Stina’s side of the family. Otherwise, she’s got some explaining to do.
It was fairly gross experience, from a bloody, fluid-y perspective. Its a rather graphic experience. The word of the day was “gushing.” As a software engineer, this was a realm I’m not generally accustomed to. Stina still had to birth the placenta and get stitched back up. The doctor told me to follow the baby around for its APGAR testing, first bath, and whatnot. I numbly followed his directions, since I lost the ability to think for myself. We were eventually led to our hospital room around 5am, where we blankly looked at each other and our Son in utter disbelief.
I suspect that most deliveries that were this challenging (the baby was facing the wrong position, the umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck, and her vagina wasn’t big enough) end up in a c-section. After the birth, our doctor told us that he thought the on call doctor would have probably elected to perform a c-section, which was something that Stina had REALLY wanted to avoid doing. This is why he came in to assist in the delivery. I can’t tell you how amazing that is, and how grateful to him we are. He went far beyond the call of duty, and we are deeply indebted to him.
It’s been a blurry couple days in the hospital. The nurses were generally fantastic. Hospital staff were constantly coming into our room during all hours, and time lost all meaning. We had many friends stopping by to visit and bring food. We arrived home today to our relief / terror. We eagerly anticipate the arrival of Mama Rudden tomorrow. Someone needs to tell us what to do. It’s been amazing to watch Stina’s mothering instinct kick in. I was curious if it was going to happen. She’s such an atypical woman in many ways about things like that.
Let the games begin.
Well, for those not in the know, the version was quite successful. The doctors, whom warned us that the likely hood of success was very low, turned our baby a good 150 degrees. When they failed to find the heartbeat after the version, there was a small whirlwind of activity. When Stina and I looked at each, “holy shit” was painted all over our faces. The heartbeat was located shortly after, and everything eventually mellowed out. We went home and I changed my underwear.
Since the version, we’ve been in an incredible head space. We’ve gotten all the major necessary pre-baby tasks accomplished, so we’ve relishing in our bonus extra special free time. I went to see Moe at the Fillmore, because I could. We’ve discovered tasty sandwiches do exist in the east bay. I lost myself in the best french toast I’ve ever tasted (one of the many things I’ve snobby about) @ Aunt Mary’s Cafe.
I’ve been working at home, attempting to stay close at hand since labor could be imminent. After spending half the week at home, Stina told me to go to work. A watched pot never boils. Or a watched pregnant lady doesn’t break water. So I head in, and of course in the afternoon, I get the call. It was very surreal heading home on the train, listening to “Late for the Future”, looking at all my commuting companions, living very separate lives. I arrived home to delicious fresh baked banana bread muffins. That’s Stina in a nut shell. Her water breaks, so she makes muffins for the nurses.
Contractions have been mellow and distant, so she’s not in labor. Yet. We’ll have a baby before the weekend is over. That’s a pretty heavy sentence right there. Stina’s really had the miracle pregnancy. We were so worried about her body and her back. She’s experienced minor discomfort, but overall its been incredibly smooth sailing. And for that, we are grateful. She’s really had an incredibly positive attitude through this whole pregnancy thing. That gave me a long leash to freak out a lot. Good times. Now all we have to deal with is that labor bit. No big deal, right?
I find myself mentally shedding the things that have occupying my free time for the past 4 months or so. Going out, seeing music, eating at restaurants, and doing our own thing. I’ve been working on music with abandon as of late. I’ve made incredible progress on album #6 (and even a separate secondary album). It’s been somewhat stressful, full of the usual frustrations about flailing about without making any real progress. About two weeks ago I hit a major milestone where I pretty much have the whole next album mapped out. There’s a ton of work left to do, but I can see the big picture. I know the time I have for my music will be fleeting, so it’s incredibly comforting to feel that I will be productive with that time. And now I’m going to put that part of my life on a shelf for a little while. It’ll be there when I get a moment to breathe. Being a father doesn’t mean I’ll stop being a musician. It’s too much a fundamental part of who I am. I’m also keenly aware that being a father will become a new fundamental part of my identity. I’m not sure what thats going to be like. I won’t deny that some small part of me that feels like my entire life has been leading up to this moment.
We’ve had a really fabulous run of awesomeness for the past decade or so. We’ve been super blessed in so many ways. In the last few years though, it sometimes felt like we were going through the motions. After eating so much cake, it became less exciting to partake in life’s chocolaty goodness. Time oozed on and often slipped away.
Time sure got a kick in the pants once the happy circle on the pee stick entered out lives. Since then we sourced a house, moved in, acquired a plethora of baby accessories, threw several parties (housewarming, superbowl, an epic baby shower), formed a small army of doctors, experienced many different styles of yoga, and connected with tons of people. We’ve had visitors stay in our fancy new guest room, built a ton of IKEA furniture, and made the house our home. I got to watch Stina experience life differently every day. The previous pattern of life was obliterated. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve crammed in too many concerts (highlights were Big Organ Trio and Leftover Salmon), toiled down on some serious general fuzz tunage, and started to really venture out in the the east bay (buying relatively high end baby gear on craigslist results in visiting the many suburbs of the east bay). I’ve managed to really savor almost every day for the past 9-10 months. Life has that sparkle again.
We’ve been approaching this whole baby thing fairly non-traditionally, which is true to form. People knew we were pregnant a few days after we did. Fortunately the baby stuck, but we wanted our community to rally around us if it didn’t. Our large scale co-ed baby shower was really a party that was baby shower themed. I’d like to think that our shower takes the prize for amount of alcohol consumed. Our community is having a huge hand in helping us name the baby. I’m really happy when we buck the trend.
On the other hand, OMG WE’RE ABOUT TO HAVE A BABY!!! This is no longer an abstract concept. We’re in the end game now. We just learned that the baby is currently in breech position (feet first). We’re going to attempt an external version (where her doctor attempts to push the baby around) on Tuesday. If that doesn’t work, we’re having a c-section in nine days. Single digits, people.
When we talk about the future with our son, I have no concept what it will be like. Its no fun thinking about letting go of all activities that bring me joy. On the other hand, the concept of not doing these things can only be referenced in a life where everything is exactly the same except I’m not writing music, being social, seeing shows, and being goofy with Stiners. Well that last one will be omni present in our lives, but it will be a more, “I’m so tired, I’m going to vomit” kinda goofing around. I can’t conceptualize what life will be with child. I know there’s going to be a lot of love, challenges, and personal growth, but its all really abstract right now. People say everything will change once you see/hold your baby. I’m curious if thats true. I won’t consider it a failure if its doesn’t happen. I’m wagering the whole process will be a rewarding experience, one way or another. It would be astonishing if everyone was lying. I guess that would be worth finding out too. Then I could expose the great parent conspiracy on this blog.
Top ten shows of ‘09
10. Los Tortugas. Third times the charm. Its been fun and fascinating watching the festival evolve from its initial incarnation.
9. Jon Hopkins at the Grand. Its tough to impress me doing an electronica gig, but he delivered. He also did an excellent job of re-shaping his music for a live show.
8. Jackie Green + Friends at the Great American Music Hall. I’m sorta meh on Jackie’s material, but its always nice to see Phil and Bobby from 10 feet away.
7. Kyle HollingsWorth + Zack Gill at the Indy. Zack’s set build nicely from solo piano -> full band -> full band + all of ALO. Kyle then proceeded to tear it up. A wicked fun night, and was glad to catch the whole thing from start to finish.
6. The Jimmy Herring Band at the Grand. An amazing interpretation of a gem of an album. His touring band was phenominal. The interplay between the musicians left me dizzy.
5. Soulive w/ Roy Hargrove at Yoshi’s. Best Soulive set I’ve ever seen, which is saying something. It was chock full of guests and intensely funky grooves. And I HEART Yoshi’s.
4. Joe Ledbetter @ Cafe du Node -> Dumpstafunk @ the Indy. Two venues, two awesome shows, one dollar bill stuck down my drawers. ‘Nough said.
3. Bill Krutzman at the Indy. Easily the biggest surprise of the year. I didn’t have high expectations for that show, and my shit got blown apart. The trio took us through an incredibly adventurous path through the dead cannon. A truly fantastic ride.
2. Moby at the Warfield. There are very few shows that cause me to experience an entire spectrum of emotions. My respect for this guy knows no bounds, even if I don’t enjoy most of his work.
1. Phish at the Gorge. I won’t lie. It wasn’t the best Phish show I’ve seen. Not by a long shot. But it was a dream come true to see Phish at the Gorge. I’m glad the boys are back in action.
Best album of the Year: Inhumans, 97 Lovers. Their website is down. Maybe they were a one trick pony. That was one amusing pony though.
Best electronic music album of the year: Insides, Jon Hopkins.
Best free electronic music album of the year: Clash, Signal Path
What with ‘09 being the year of the weddings, there were a couple opportunities to stretch my musical muscles for the betterment of magical nuptial time.
Dave SG is an amazing friend. He also made our wedding cake. He asked if I would compose the processional for his wedding. I was truly honored (slash payback is a bitch). He also requested that it should be performed along with his friend Andrzej on guitar. After struggling with a couple different original tunes, I ended up adapting Dave’s favorite general fuzz tune. I think it came out quite nicely. I may revisit it down the road. I’ve named it dragon fly, after the theme for his wedding. Download it here.
Lars is also an amazing friend. He asked me to DJ his wedding. On my birthday, he made me a mix cd which included a random track discovered at the nursery school where he works. It is song about Lars, who fights off dragons and needs to eat lunch. It is a very cute acoustic track. Lars was lukewarm about playing the track at their wedding. I spruced it up a bit and slipped it in during dancing go booyeah time. It amused me to no end. And now you can hear it too.
Transitioning to our new pad has been intense, to say the least. The move, which was life consuming when it happened, seems like a distant memory. The day after we moved into to our new home, we had surprise visitors all day long. It was the most wonderful thing that could have happened. It hadn’t dawned upon me that the majority of our friends live in the East Bay until then.
Our new house doesn’t feel like home yet, but we’re getting there. Its a nice house in a fabulous neighborhood, right where Rockridge, Berkeley and Temescal intersect. My current street is sorta like living in Newton West, except for omnipresent Oakland vibe. I saw a dude take a piss on the street from the curb of the sidewalk one block away. It’s a very odd mashup of a suburb and a urban environment. The culture diversification is really different the SF. My favorite thing is that I can bike everywhere I need to go. I bike to the BART, the grocery store (of which there are four of), and the four or five yoga studios. I ride a bike pretty much everyday, and that brings me great joy. There’s endless stuff to discover. Unfortunately, there are very few parks. This irks me greatly, especially since I spent most of the decade living 50 feet from Golden Gate Park.
At this point the house is pretty setup. The only thing left in boxes is our art. We acquired a guest bed, and Stiners parents came out for five days over Christmas. This was a brilliant idea. We put them to work, and made huge leaps forward in setting up the house. Micheal, Stiner’s dad, is an architect, and proved to be rather handy with tools and a ladder. Ikea gladly accepted a lot our money. We haven’t setup the baby’s room yet, but that’s the last major hurdle left. My office is in a separate cottage which proves to awesome for a studio, but makes me feel really isolated when I’m there for long stretches of time.
I’m currently rich with yoga classes, since I signed up for new student specials at 4 studios. Its been crazy being exposed to totally different styles of Yoga. I tend to reject them all at first since they are unfamiliar. I’m starting to figure out that I prefer Hatha yoga to Vinyasa. I don’t dig the flow classes – yet. I learned the important lesson that if there’s a lot of really fit women in a class, I should turn around and walk out. Normally I’ll start checking the clock around 45 minutes into an hour and half yoga class. That’s when I’m starting fatigue and wondering how much more I have to endure. In the class with all the fit women, I looked for the first time 20 minutes in. I knew I was in big trouble.
My favorite new place is the whole word is the Starry Plough. They have awesome live music every weekend. The day we moved, I went there to catch a Dead cover band, because I could. It was pretty fun. I’ve never in my life seen an audience dance so ecstatically at a Dead themed concert. In fact I’ve just returned from seeing Further in SF and the audience was not even closed too as jazzed as the folks in the Starry. I’ve now been there 4 or 5 times. I last was there to see Albino with Angel, which was crazy fun. There are several amazing beer bars in the nearby, as well as a few breweries.
Our time has been jam packed with setting up the house and holiday parties. I’ve been hell bent on seeing as many concerts as possible. I’ve spent all my other free time focused on composing music, which has been coming along nicely. I would totally have a new album out in time for Burning Man this year, especially if we weren’t having a baby. Except I’m not going to Burning Man, and alledgely we are having a wee one. I’m attempting to be ok with that. As Stina wisely said – I have the rest of my life to be a musician.
The pregnancy is coming along nicely. No major hurdles yet. We’re entering the home stretch.
I’ve been spending lots more time in close proximity of our friends children. Its gotten me pretty excited about being a father. It’s also gotten me terrified about being a father. That seems about right.
The Inner Sunset has been my home for almost a decade. I love so many things about this place. Pub trans runs through here to almost every point in the city. It’s a tourist destination, but almost devoid of the issues that usually plague such places. It’s populated by a unpretentious multi cultural community that makes this neighborhood feel particularly separate from the rest of San Francisco.
Golden gate park is the best park on this planet. I certainly haven’t explored every facet of this 3 mile long outdoor playground, but I’ve given it a good go. The Botanical Garden is one of my first destinations when I’m seeking inspiration. Awesome festivals sweep through every season. I anticipate the first gorgeous days in the spring when hippie hill explodes with activity. Bocce and Frisbee tossing in Big Rec was a staple in our social gatherings. There have been countless strolls through the park to the beach, always followed by a tasty beer at the Chalet.
The food here is out of control. Rarely a week goes by without Singapore curry noodles from the Lime Tree. Ebisu kills my wallet, but is simply too delicious to ignore. The friendly and hopefully permanent fixture of Darla, and her brownie rewards. Arezmendi’s, Plutos, Nan King Road Bistro, Underdogs organic sausages, it just goes on and on. I vaguely recall some crazy late night donut runs. The multiple late night pizza options are especially close to my heart. I’ve earned more free slices at Irving Street Pizza then I care to admit. Even Andronico’s, which is that bane of my existence with its insane prices, is sadly the epitome of convenience and delicious sandwiches. Fortunately, I can balance it out with cheap, quality produce at the produce store @ 10th. And now there’s a killer farmers market to boot. Good work, community.
The amazing new library. The Smokedaddies at the Blackthorn, every Wednesday. Thursday nights at the Academy of Science museum. Unusually friendly homeless folks. Walking, not driving, to the hospital. Catching the occasionally inspiring sunsets from the top of the hill on Funston. The ever present crowd outside of San Tung. Bobby the butcher. The sporadic telescope folks. The many incarnations of the Brewery. The growing facebook community. The “Yes We Can” house. A wave and smile from the folks at the cheese shop. The awesomeness that was the Canvas cafe. Pondering how there can be so many nail salons. I freaking love the Inner Sunset. I think I’ve been clear on that.
I’ve done an incredible amount with my life while living here. I composed five albums of downtempo electronic music here. The second album was named “Inner Sunset” and has the processional for my wedding on it. You can download all my music for free @ www.generalfuzz.net (they’re worth listening to – my last album was voted #9 in the top 200 albums ever played on the nationally syndicated radio show echoes). Bija Yoga changed my life forever. I no longer have chronic back and wrist pain, and have been taught the extreme importance of breathing. I never set foot inside a yoga studio three years ago, and now plan on attending Yoga classes for the rest of my life.
My girlfriend and I moved in together for the first time on 8th Ave. Right when I walked out the door, the aromas from Pasquales would hit me like a mack truck and I would start salivating, even if I just ate. We got married a few years later and moved all the way down to 14th and Lincoln. Now we are about to embark on the “east bay shuffle”. You know, the one that often happens when you get pregnant. So it’s on to the next phase of our lives. Transitions are difficult, and I particularly suck at them. That’s ok. I’m sure there will be lots to appreciate about the next chapter in our lives. Allegedly life also thrives on the other side of that bridge.
Anyhow, I hope that you are able to touch upon why this neighborhood is so freaking special. I’ll miss it terribly.
Except for the fog.
That I can live without.