Lake wasn’t quite born with a silver spoon in his mouth. I was there and can bear witness. He did, however, have one waiting for him at home thanks to his fairy godmother Bridget Haupt. Behind every silver spoon baby likely lurks a silver bell mama. This is that story. 

I had a normal vaginal birth, albeit strenuous, and my midwife has placed me on a two week bed rest in order to optimize my recovery. This entails no stairs (we live in a second floor walk-up), minimal time out of bed, no housework, no lifting anything heavier than my baby or a spoon to my mouth. At times it can be difficult to rein in my normal independent spirit, outdoorsy walking ways (remember this is the one who went to yoga in 41st week and walked eight miles after the water broke). Mostly, however, I have no inclination to be up and about, and generally get very strong opinions back from my body telling metro get back in bed. Being confined to the bedroom can be isolating. Even in our extremely modest 550 ft2 flat my voice doesn’t have the strength to carry to all corners, especially should my mother (Nana) happen to be talking, or my husband is in the office listening to music. Plus, especially the first week I was a bit weak, and my voice didn’t seem as strong as normal either. Dilemma: how to get the help I need (water, a wet cloth, my phone, help up, etc) when I need it (usually STAT!).

I thought, “what I need is a bell!”

So I have the brilliant idea of bringing out the family silver dinner bell from the upper cupboard.  Nana was amenable to the plan after I gave supporting examples of times no one heard me, and brought the bell to my bedside.

*Ding a ling a ling!* “May I have a glass of sparkling water please?” Bon!

Then my husband becomes privy to the set-up when he spies the silver bell. He’s, to put it mildly, not a fan. We’re all a team here, no servents and Queen Mothers. 

Bell goes away.

Time passes. He acquiesces on his own accord and the bell is restored to my bedside table. A few instances come to pass of voice not being heard and I escalate my calls to include vigorous ringing of the silver bell. It is faintly heard in the other room and a devoted husband happily comes to my aid. Judicious use of the bell is appreciated by all.
Today I defied bed rest to go to my PEPS group in Ballard. It would have been Lake’s 2 week old mark, had he been born at 40 weeks, but the generous facilitator invited me to come anyways, in spite of his super young age if I could make it. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to but I rallied! I can surely benefit from any extra early parent support I can get! It felt refreshing to get out show up for the party. Next week I’m bringing the snacks: on the road to recovery. 

I must say, it will feel mighty good to be able to put the bell back in the cupboard.

Field trip to Ballard: PEPS (Program for Early Parent Support) Babies!

We had a great night last night! Shhh, don’t tell Nurse Ratchet… He slept from 1am to 7am… He was so content to sleep next to Daddy he wasn’t overly-anxious to wake up and eat, and I was loathe to interrupt such a beautiful and peaceful scene… He was cuddled up against him like the little Big Spoon, with his lower hand clutching beneath Daddy’s flank.

Both parties seemed mutually happy with the arrangement, and the parents were refreshed from a sound night’s sleep!