general fuzz

Got Jiboo

generalfuzz — Wed, 11 Aug 2010 02:38:26 +0000

Jiboo will now grab anything within reach. This can make night time feedings more “fun.” While I’m totally devoid of chest hair, both nipple and armpit hair are ripe for yanking. Also, my beard is an excellent handle to my face.
J-Nuts thinks an empty mouth is a wasted opportunity. He prefers his maw to be full of, well, anything.
He’s also a rather large little dude. Apparently, he’s 95th percentile in height, 80th in weight, and 65th in capacity to love. Bottom teeth are coming in fast, and he’s taking it better then we expected. Overall, he’s a fairly happy guy, which is the most I can hope for.
He’s super active and crazy strong. He can lift my waterbottle full of water. I have lots of fears about the future, trying to keep up with his antics and tomfoolery. But, damn, he looks good in yellow.

July was crazy intense. Dave SG organized an executed a giant mural, moved in, and then left the bay area for the east coast with Erin, who’s currently in deep incubate. I reluctantly suspect more of my friends will leave the bay area over time, especially those with growing families.
It seems that every weekend we are going to parties. And by parties, I mean BBQs. Thats how we mid thirties folk like to rage – in the afternoon.
We celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary with a trip to the Marin County Fair. Tea Leaf Green played a solid afternoon set. It’s such a bargain. $15 gets a day of free rides, a chance to “interact” with a huge amount of live stock, lots of cool art and performances, two concerts, and fireworks. Booze is even free if you sneak it in.
Sometimes I attempt to entertain Jasper in a manic, high energy assault. It turns out this type of interaction tends to freak other babies out. Its nice to leave a room of crying babies in your wake.
As you would expect, a woman in Stina’s mother group is a classmate of mine from high school who’s married to the assistant general manager of the Oakland A’s. This is how I found myself in a luxury box at Oakland coliseum with surrounded by babies on a Sunday afternoon. Babies are indifferent to luxury boxes, which is a shame.
Summer officially arrived with three nights of Phish at the Greek theater. It was both slightly irresponsible of the band (due to the theater’s small size) and of me to go (what with the baby). Most importantly, Dave and Keri Patry came in for the weekend. Keri was the true rock star, babysitting the two nights that Stina came. It was surprising to find that we were the median age at the shows. A cool thing about the Greek theater is that you can see the entire audience, and everyone was so very pumped to be at such an “intimate” show. Fortunately, Phish played “Got Jiboo” on Saturday night when Stina was there. They are sounding as good as I remember in recent years. The fun factor was high.
Top Dave Patry quotes from the weekend:

“Heyoooo!” (during a silent moment after Trey said something about the magic wood for his new guitar)
“Food: it’s, like, nourishing, man” (as a potential slogan for food)
“Someone said something about a nap, and I thought ‘cool’” (on why we ended up being late getting in line for a show)
“I do not condone wearing sports gear.” (After Stina asked if he had a Red Sox hat, oblivious that he was wearing a 2010 olympic games hat)

I’ve been suprised to discover there is actually something better then falling in love with my son – it’s watching Stina falling madly in love with him.

Waking the General

generalfuzz — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 01:43:52 +0000

One of the major fears I grappled with during Stina’s pregnancy was that my musical self would become seriously diminished. Now, on the other side of the baby fence, I’m relieved to find the fuzz fire still burning. While life is certainly fuller, its not going to be a Herculean effort to carve out time to make sweet love to my keyboard.

I’m in an interesting place with my music. I have 10-11 songs in my pocket – some finished, some on their way. Instead of kicking into high gear trying to finish up the album, I’m attempting to soak in the satisfaction of being flush with songs. In the last few years, I finally realized it’s more about journey then the destination, and the journey is a lot more fun when it has clear direction.

I’ve also been working on a secondary album – one that will be a bit of a departure from my previous releases. I’ve been working on some far more aggressive songs. It’s been super fun to crank the speakers and rock out. I’ve always had a love affair with quality aggressive music – Metallica, Audioslave, the Crystal Method, etc. These new songs will most likely alienate my core audience – so I’ll need to strategize how to release it. One idea is to release it under a different pseudonym, but it seems a shame not to capitalize any fan base that I’ve built.

My fourth album, Cool Aberrations, spanned from super mellow to some somewhat uptempo. Like all my previous albums, it was really just a snap shot of all the songs that I had been working on at the time. After releasing Cool Aberrations, I decided that I wanted my next album to set a chill vibe and maintain it. Its amazing, and frankly surprising, to say two years after I released Soulful Filling that I still have no regrets about it. It came out exactly the way I wanted it to. I can’t say that about any of my previous releases. I doubt I’ll say that about my next one, but it’s a nice goal to have.

In the past two years I’ve also written a couple of fun mid tempo tunes. So I’m trying to determine whether I should put these tracks on my next album (like I did in albums 1-4) or spin off yet another album of mostly midtempo tracks. I go back and forth on this. It’s a little stressful for to think about, so I’m trying to coax the decision to be more playful then stressful. Should an album be a snapshot of my current work, or should I continue to try and maintain a vibe? I’m not sure. This next album won’t be as consistent as Soulful Filling regardless of my decision. That’s fine. It’ll take a listener on a fine melodic journey.

Another thing I’m also considering is changing my tag line. Currently, its “lush melodic instrumental electronica”. While that’s as succinct a way I can describe my music, its not very targeted. I’ve discovered that my fan base is largely comprised of folks who enjoy new age music/lifestyle, which is kinda funny since thats not my bag anymore. I certainly listened to a fair bit of new age music when I was a teenager, but that was 20 years ago. Anyhow, I was thinking of trying to capitalize on that fact, and change the tag to something like “new age 2.0″. I was originally thinking “new age evolved”, but Stina thought that sounded condescending to new age music. Anyhow, it’s just another idea to kick around as the album coalesces.

Recently, I’ve seen a bunch of studios of artists that I admire. They are all chock full of synths, analog tape machines, and other electronic music gear. I get by quite nicely with a computer, two midi controllers, and a mic. Here’s a picture of my studio in our east bay house. The posters extend all the way around the room. It’s a little ironic that I’m such a live music fan yet I produce and compose very precise electronic music.

Anyhow, I’m definitely interested in any feedback you might have on album composition or tagline ideas. . . .

Hands!

generalfuzz — Tue, 15 Jun 2010 02:35:34 +0000

J-Balls has discovered he has hands. I guess that would be pretty startling if you didn’t know you had them. They have one a sole purpose – to go in his mouth. He can almost get the whole thing in there. Occasionally he’ll get em in so far he’ll gag. He’ll pop one in when he’s hungry and then get really pissed off when no food comes out.
The weather in the east bay this spring has been unbelievable. It’s like we moved to a different country. We’ve fallen in love with our porch. This is causing us to re-evaluate our feelings for each other.
Jasper is getting way more interactive. He has fully graduated from a ball of goo to a tiny human. I’ve been granted a license to go a little bananas around him, since I’m often rewarded with smiles, squeals, or the occasional crazy/scary baby laughter. Good times.
I took a half day off so Dave SG and I could play 36 epic holes of mini golf. After we determined we could BART and bike to golfland, I brought down a full pitcher of bloody mary’s. The Comfort Inn across the street provided ice and free popcorn. We added rules like going blind if you needed to redo a hole (I then got a hole in one this way). We re-named the holes as we traveled through adventure land. One particularity challenging hole required a perfect shot down the center to put the ball in a middle hole. It was named “get it in the hole or suck it”.
I came home from work to discover Stina, Lindsey, Jiboo, and Henry in the mini room in the back office. This was because Stina hired a full army of people to clean the shit out of our house. That evening I went to check out how our tub looks when its grime free, and I did a full head smash into the super clean glass door. I actually have a history of walking full speed into glass doors though.
The second half of May we had round two of parental visitations. The grandparents are fully integrated into Jaspers life. We are getting a little too used to lots of helping hands. I dragged my Dad to the Maker’s Fair to see if it would spark some inspiration for his retirement. Micheal Rudden went to town on my office, and now it looks amazing.
We kicked J-balls to the curb (where the curb = my in-laws) and took a two day long extreme vacation to Santa Cruz where we repeatedly experienced the “delirium of excitement” (direct Stina quote). We brought it big. We cruised through town on bikes and happened on some truly magnificent shrubbery.

Feeding has gotten much less treacherous now that he has some neck control. Previously you had to be wary of the sudden high speed side head butt. No longer will he leave a trail of bloody lips wherever he goes.
We got a new fridge, cause our old one liked to pee itself, and they don’t make fridge size diapers. This inspired a whole round of taking Jasper pictures in fun places.
We discovered the joys of spraying a naked baby with water. We’re starting to teach him about an emotion called “surprise!”
Originally, I thought I was really snobby about a number of things. On further reflection, I realized my problem is that I care too much. For example, I care too much about whiskey.

The Mute Button

generalfuzz — Mon, 10 May 2010 15:02:06 +0000

My brother’s wedding in Boston on April 10 prompted us to bring a 5 week baby on a cross country airplane ride. The best moment was about 4 hours into the flight when he had a giant poop. For the record, his poop (which has gone greenish now) is crazy potent. During this most excellent and productive session, the fasten seatbelt indicator lit up, and we couldn’t leave our seats for the rest of the flights. Our lucky seat neighbor was forced to join us in wallowing in that special pungent flavor for the last two hours of the flight. Good times.
And against all odds, my brother actually got married. It was great to have the Kirsch family together. The Rudden’s cared for Jasper during the ceremony and took him home shortly afterwards, leaving us to have our first post pregnancy shared cocktail fest. Booyeah for in-laws! Dr. Doug and Erin happened to employ the same wedding photographer that we did in our Bay Area wedding, which was more then a little amusing. We had a fantastic time at the celebration and were the last to leave. I’m super psyched to officially (by which I mean governmentally sancationed) welcome Erin to the family! Its nice to have a younger sister to beat up on.
Since we knew we were going to be in the area for a while, the Silers (the Rudden’s best friends) threw Stina an extravagant Newton-style baby shower. It was billed as a high tea, so I wasn’t allowed to break out the beer until after all the artfully spiked punch was finished. Tons of our east coast friends joined us during the afternoon, and it was fantastic to catch up. This also meant having a full on Siler-Rudden festival weekend, which usually leaves me wallowing in my own sick by the end.
We’ve renamed the feeding bottle as “the mute button.” Works every time.
I had my first “my Son did that!” moment when we put him down for “tummy time” and he turned himself over. He did it a couples times, in both directions. I was shocked and embarrassed to find myself gushing with acolades. Then I slapped myself twice, got a beer, and gave myself some props. Way to walk and operate complex tools, JimmyK!
Initially, our biggest challenge was that Jasper wouldn’t sleep unless he was held. That meant someone was on shift 24/7. This translated into watching 6-8 hours of television a day during my paternatity leave. Streaming netflix was my best friend. The day before we left for Boston, he has his first stretch of sleep on his own. I guess one of those magical baby switches were flipped, and ever since then he’s fine on his own. Our parents wondered what we were complaining about.
We stayed in Newton for 3.5 weeks. Its was bliss. I was pretty down with part time parenting. Jiboo had like 13 moms. I started to feel like me again after sleeping a few nights. Those first five weeks of his life felt like a year.
Biology has a cruel sense of humor: having a baby makes you a chick magnet.
Newton peeps are all now home owners. And we have a baby. Funny that I still don’t feel like an adult yet.
I smartly moved my birthday from the 3rd to the 2nd, and proceeded to have an epic day. Pizza for breakfast at the farmers market. A table full of lesbians told me I was real cute. Went to an AMAZING show at the Starry Plow with Stiners and Jiboo all afternoon. It was a benifit for Kate Struby who’s raising money for medical costs associated with ALS. A stellar lineup of bay area talent, and they tore it up as the day slipped into evening. Jaspers first show was a rousing success, probably since he slept for half of it. There were at least 7 babies in attendance – 3 as young as Jasper. All of them had the giant infant ear protection muffs on. Cuteness overload + Rocking out = epic. Jiboo gave me the greatest birthday gift ever – a 6 hour stretch of sleep, shattering his previous record of almost 4.
I was starting to feel a little anxious when I hit 32 years of age. More so at 33. I think it really had to do with being that old and having not started the family. I have no bad feelings about 34, since I have Jasper to share it with.
I determined my long term strategy for getting old – minimize regrets. Though I hadn’t clarified my mission statement till now, I’ve been on that path for a long while.
Sometimes when Jiboo is crying, I’ll yell back at him and he stops crying and stared incredulously at me. As soon as I stop yelling, he resumes. After a long yelling at the baby session, a lightbulb in my brain finally went off, and I tried cranking the music. He totally mellowed out when I was blasting some String Cheese Incident. This is my kind of baby.
We were somewhat anxious going back to Cali (cali cali), leaving behind all the amazing support we had in Newton. Thankfully we’ve have a fantastic re-entry into our west coast life. Amazing friends have come by literally every day this week bringing us food and good company. It’s great to be back home.

Yum Yum Finger, Hooray!

generalfuzz — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 04:32:03 +0000

Whoever figured out the blow dryer while changing a diaper trick should have won a Nobel Prize for Economics. The previous winners were unable to prevent the current global economic catastrophe, so might as well give it to someone who did something really useful.
For the few week or two, J-Balls was pooping what appeared to be Gulden’s brown mustard. Now he’s pooping French’s. Since the final destination is standard human crap, he seems to be heading in the right direction.
There’s been lots of on the fly song creation, which is awesome. “Yum Yum Finger, Hooray!” has gotten legs. I’ve already written 4 verses. Hopefully I’ll get around to recording and orchestrating it. Songs like “Daddy’s going to go insane” and “Lets clean the poop off your ballsack” will probably not see the light of day outside this house though.
I’ve become real familiar with the frustration of finally getting your kid asleep, only to have him wakeup during the delicate transition from me to the crib. Multiple times in a row. Its like playing Mega Man. You get all the way to the end boss, die during the battle, and have to start all over again from the level’s halfway check point. In this case it’s important to not to throw your controller in frustration after the 3th attempt though.
In this light, Jiboo has been clear in his intentions to only sleep while someone holds him. We knew going into this that every baby has its parental kryptonite. I’m learning how to cradle him while passing out in the reclining chair.
I’ve been “jet streaming” far too much Netflix (a term coined by Erin Crowley). The upside is discovering gems like “The Last Dragon” I can’t believe I never saw that one before. The DVDs in the mail get extra special treatment. I saw “Hellboy 2″, and then immediately watched it again with the commentary on. What else do I have to do?
It’s amazing that even this early on, there’s an obvious difference between Stina’s and my approach to parenting. I’m probably too casual and want to take the path of least resistance, whereas she’s far more militant and can be somewhat obsessive over things that I think are unimportant. I can already anticipate that this gap will widen and lead to new sources of friction. Friction leads to chaffing. Chaffing leads to ointment. Ointment leads to the devil.
For the last 10 months, I devoted most of my spare mental energy focusing on the preparation for the baby. Now that he’s arrived and I’m able to wrap my head around the concept of caring for a baby, I have the freedom to freak out about our future. Our linear life for the past 8 years had a pretty obvious direction – constrained irresponsibility with occasional goals. Our future now seems laden with complex parameters and heaps of uncertainty. I feel like we finally graduated to where most people I know are – we have no clue how this is going to play out and all we can do is take it one day at a time. I think out graduation party got a little out of control, since Stina ended up tearing up her lady business.

It’s been two weeks now, Chunkers

generalfuzz — Sun, 21 Mar 2010 22:57:36 +0000

Jasper’s second official nickname, and the one most used, is Jiboo. Stina concocted the initial one in the hospital while she was weighing out the baby name – J-Balls. That may have clinched Jasper.
Getting him to sleep has gotten far more challenging. Actually, all around he’s gotten more challenging. He teased us with some cushy behavior on home arrival, and has slyly introduced “the sleep fake” and “inconsolability” into his repertoire. Boo-errns.
I often discover that I have unconsciously puckered my lips when Jiboo is having difficulty feeding. As if it was going to make any difference. He’s been eating like a champ as of late though . . .
I’ve started calling him Chunkers. He’s developed all sorts of new folds in him limbs. When we went to the pediatrician for our first visit, he was in the 25% percentile for weight. This week he was in the 50% percentile. He gained almost 2 pounds. We’re attempting to re-program him to eat less. So far I’ve learned that baby’s don’t like to be treated like robots.
He’s had his first bout with mild baby sickness. I guess this is potentially real bad when they’re this young. Besides being rather fussy, we survived. I broke my “stick a thermometer up a baby’s pooper” cherry. I’m a man now. Chunkers didn’t seem to mind to much, so Berkeley might be the right fit for him.
Stiners is taking all the right steps to get back on track. She’s definitely doing better this week, and is now armed with some quality sleep.
Its a little sad how much we celebrate when we get him to burp or when he poops.
We’ve eaten like royalty while Lola and Nana were kickin’ it at chez Krudden. Biggie ups. Our freezer would be extremely grateful if it gave a shit. Fortunately, we do, and our fridge can munch my sack. We are more then a little apprehensive about doing this alone starting next week. I guess my Zen mentality has worn off.

Peequality

generalfuzz — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 01:04:43 +0000

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. . .

Day 6 or so

generalfuzz — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 07:43:39 +0000

Things that are surprising:

I knew there were going to be three baby states: sleeping, crying, and eating. I didn’t know about the mystical fourth state: aware. Jasper’s wide awake, eyes roaming, quietly taking everything in. Well, actually, he’s probably taking nothing in, but it’s real cute and unexpected. Occasionally there’s hiccups. Bonus.
Newborn eyes do freaking crazy things. The roll around in a way that doesn’t imply brilliance. His eyelids seem almost double jointed.
How not complicated he is. He’s a really sweet little guy. He really doesn’t cry all that much, and when he does he’s relatively easy to sooth. We are extremely lucky right now. I know this could change at the drop of a hat, so I’m really not taking it for granted.
Time passes differently. It sorta seeps and glides by. We’re using formula while we determine if Stina’s breast milk will come in, so I play an active part in the feeding. Feeding can easily take an hour and a half. Its a whole process. It doesn’t feel like a long time though. I just look up at the clock, and find that an hour or two has slipped by.
Many times during the pregnancy I would bemoan how we wouldn’t sleep, have fun, etc after the baby came. About two months ago Stina smartly said it was time we stopped bitching about the future since it wasn’t doing us any good. Instead we should talk about what we were looking forward to. For some reason (possibly because she was 7 month pregnant) that advice didn’t just pass over me. A switch flipped in my head, and I became rather Zen about our daily experience. I started appreciating every day that I had when I had no responsibilities. Somehow, magically, post birth, I’m still doing it. I’m not worried about the future – I’m really enjoying the present moment. This is fantastic, and rather surprising.
Conversely, Stina’s not sleeping nearly enough. She’s really anxious about the baby. She’s hit several walls already. There’s all sorta of crazy stuff going on in her body, she’s got a lot of healing to do from the birth, and there’s an inflow of postpartum hormones. I know we’ll get through this. Its good that I’m feeling so stable right now, so she can completely lean on me as much as she wants. I’m sure the tables will turn down the line.

Things that are not surprising:

Mama Rudden, our savior, arrived on Tuesday afternoon. The relief in the air is palpable. She cooking up a storm and being terribly helpful. Three of us can totally tackle caring for the baby.
There’s a non-rhythmic cycle for feeding. Rooting -> sloppy eating -> passing out -> burping -> checking/changing diapers -> crying -> rooting, with many variations on a theme. When Jasper passes out for a solid ten minutes, we’re done. At least for ten minutes.
I’m learning to sleep at anytime of the day. The sun just sorta glides up and down. The day/night barrier is much less distinct. Its a weird feeling. I wish we had a better view from our place to watch the sunrise.
I think one of the advantages of being older is that I’m actually aware that these moments are fleeting and that I should treasure them. This is much more useful then people telling me this truth. Having Jasper gently sleeping on top of me is rather precious. It’s even better than a cat. Especially cause I’m allergic to cats.
I don’t feel like a father yet. It’s like I’m at newborn training camp, and I’ll go home at the end of the week. Maybe it’ll sink in when I don’t.
I enjoy hand comparison pictures. Eat it.

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!

Outside the Womb

generalfuzz — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 06:45:44 +0000

What Jasper thinks of life outside the womb.

Jasper Rudden Kirsch

generalfuzz — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 06:21:04 +0000

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.