Photographic evidence

Here's a photo of my little guy from today.  His thick rug has thinned out a bit but still looks like a baby toupee.  Admit it: he's cute.  

Attention, media

"Implant" is not a synonym for "transfer."  You'd think that the TV interviewers (Ann Curry) and publications (New York Times) would notice that whenever they talk to a fertility doctor or the octuplet mom herself, those people consistently say "transfer."  Transfer!  Transfer!  Gah.

Real update to come.

Progress

For the past week, I've been feeding at least 10 times a day and pumping for about 10 minutes after each feeding.  And this hard work paid off, at least for the moment, since Seba.stian was up 10 oz. over that week.  Since I'm taking every supplement known to man, I can't figure out exactly what caused this increased supply, but I think it might be the acupuncture.  Google "acupuncture" and "insufficient lactation" and you'll see studies and protocols.  Or maybe it was the More Milk Spe.cial Blen.d, which is the foulest-tasting shit on the planet and involves grain alcohol but which some people say works well on low-supplyers.  Or maybe it's the Meta.mucil, which -- I'm not joking -- one woman on the MOBI (Mothers Overcoming Breastfeeding Issues) board swears doubled her supply.  (I figured it couldn't hurt to take it.)  In any case, I can't keep up this schedule of feeding, so tonight we're going to let the little lad sleep a four-hour stretch and hope it doesn't foul up my supply.

I had my post-operative appointment this week and was pleased to find that all of that horrible reflux paid off.  You see, the reflux kept me from eating after 3pm most days, which meant I didn't gain that much weight.  And lo and behold -- it's all gone already.  Now, that doesn't mean I look normal -- I certainly do not.  But at least I don't have to worry about the actual poundage.  Then again, I think that with So.ren I was one of the few people who managed to gain weight while breastfeeding, so I shouldn't count my chickens, etc.  

Having two children under two is tiring because it requires man-to-man defense, but it isn't as bad as I would have thought.  So.ren has rallied and is very interested in his baby brother, and we hope that his memory of the "before" time is fading away already.  

So, all in all, things are very good right now, even if I'm so tired I can barely string together a subject and a verb.  Stay tuned for more from the low-supply battlefront.....

One step forward, two steps back

We weighed Se.bastian on the rented scale today, and he was back over 8 lbs.  Then, for no apparent reason, my supply dropped off a cliff.  What the fuck?  I was still nursing constantly, pumping, taking supplements, etc.  I hope it'll be back to the old level tomorrow.  I'm sure being stressed about it doesn't help.  My current goal is to keep him exclusively breastfed through Wednesday, which would be two weeks.  We can then supplement, though I'll keep up the nutso feeding/pumping schedule for another week to make sure I max out my supply, such as it is.

Trying everything

I think Seb.astian is better off, weight-wise, than So.ren was at this point.   He's gaining weight, though not quite at the pace he's supposed to.  Today, he was 7 lbs, 14 oz.  That's up 3 oz in four days.  It should really be 4 oz.  The pediatrician said he's not worried, that we should just see if his weight plateaus next week or the week after, and then we could think about supplementing if needed.  Regardless of whether we supplement, I plan to keep up my schedule of feeding/pumping for another couple of weeks because your supply is apparently more or less decided in the first three weeks.

To recap, here's what I'm doing to increase supply:

-- nursing 10 times a day

-- pumping 8-9 times a day after feedings

-- feeding Se.bastian the pumped milk

-- taking dom.peridone

-- taking fenu.greek

-- taking More M.ilk Pl.us

-- taking goat's rue

-- taking lecit.thin (for plugged ducts)

-- taking acido.philus (to avoid thrush)

-- doing a series of acupuncture appointments designed to build supply

-- taking calcium and fish oil (for general health)

I am also supposed to be taking some gross Chinese herbs (per the acupuncturist), but I haven't tried them yet.  I think my liver might explode from all of the above-referenced supplements.

Aside from the feeding, however, I think child #2 is easier than child #1.  I'm not sure if the child himself is easier, but we just feel much less stressed out about the whole thing.  I will revise this opinion if he turns out colicky.  In all seriousness, I am enjoying this little baby honeymoon -- we hang out in our sunny bedroom most of the time, watching the DVD of the first season of "30 Ro.ck" and reality TV.  The weather here in SF has been spectacular and springlike, so we take a little walk once a day.  My c-section recovery has been great.

And -- get this -- our newborn specialist (whom we used for a couple of weeks the last time) arrives on Tuesday for six weeks.  How's that for a bull-market decision?  We totally need that money now, but we already paid for her, so there you have it.  I will have to start my job search in earnest while she's here, though, since I hear it'll take at least six months.

No thrush!

Since we last spoke, an OB, the pediatrician, and another LC posited that I do not have thrush, and that the issue is, in fact, some crackage. So now I'm using this Mothe.rlove nipple cream and breast shells to try to heal the cracks. Seb.astian's latch got a high grade at the LC yesterday, so at least I know that our technique is good. The LC also gave me the OK to start the zillions of supplements I have on hand -- fenu.greek, More Mil.k Pl.us, and dom.peridone. We are feeding every 1-2 hours during the day and every 2-3 at night. I pump after all but three sessions a day, and we feed that milk back to him.

The day we left the hospital, this seemed to be working since he had started gaining again, but he was back down an ounce at the pediatrician yesterday despite eating constantly the 24 hours prior. We go back on Friday to the ped, and if his weight isn't on track, then we will supplement, per the LC's instructions. My gut feel is that my supply is better this time, so we'll just see if it's enough better to go EBF.

Last night, we cobbled together enough sleep to feel human today. We may not get a repeat of that tonight, but it was much needed after a max of three hours total of interrupted sleep, which is what I've had the first five days. Last night, I think I got 4-5 in total, including from a nap this morning, and I feel SO much better right now. Good enough, in fact, to watch a marathon of "Ba.d Girls' Clu.b" on Oxygen. Out of self-respect, I've now moved on to "What No.t to Wea.r" on TLC.

Last night, we cobbled together enough sleep to feel human today. We may not get a repeat of that tonight, but it was much needed after a max of three hours total of interrupted sleep, which is what I've had the first five days. Last night, I think I got 4-5 in total, including from a nap this morning, and I feel SO much better right now. Good enough, in fact, to watch a marathon of "Ba.d Girls' Clu.b" on Oxygen. Out of self-respect, I've now moved on to "What No.t to Wea.r" on TLC.

So.ren seems to be adjusting to his new life. When we came home on Sunday, he was napping, and so when he got up he found that the baby brother he'd met in the hospital twice was now here. I have to say I didn't expect this, but he just seemed so incredibly sad. It made me start to cry. Yesterday was better, and this morning he asked to see the baby. I hope he soon forgets that things were any different. My heart just broke for him on Sunday.

Oh, one thing I forgot to mention about my c-section was that the OB used a glue instead of stitches or staples on me. I think it's called Derm.abond. Impressive shit! You can barely see the incision. I recommend asking for this if scarring is a concern. I had a big keloid scar before, and she cut that away and used this stuff this time around, which apparently should be much less visible.

Thrush!

So I have thrush in my boobs already. Yikes! I saw the LC here at the hospital for what I thought was a garden-variety cracked nipple, and she said she's almost certain it's thrush. Let me say this: ouch.

Also, S keeps dropping weight. I am OK with supplementing while working on my supply. The LC will make a call about this tomorrow. Still pumping after every feeding. Milk is in, at least.

The LC said that if we caught the thrush early, it may go away relatively fast. Fingers crossed. I am such a breastfeeding catastrophe.

Miscellany

I forgot to mention that when I went in on Wednesday, they told me I was having contractions.  I had no idea.  I would notice a lot of movement from the baby, but I didn't realize that it was a contraction.  I'd been feeling that sort of thing for a couple of days, so presumably it was very early labor or prodromal labor or whatever it's called.  So I didn't totally miss out on the entire labor experience, I suppose.

We have finally decided on a name: Seb.astian Mey.er.  We just liked the first name, and Me.yer was my grandmother's maiden name.  Sore.n came by to meet him last night and did correctly identify him as "baby brother" but was far more interested in the free crackers and water available here.  Seb.astian slept through the whole visit.

I am now in pumping bootcamp again.  Like S.oren, Se.bastian is a natural eater with a great latch and a strong suck, which is all good, but my supply still seems to be lagging.  I am much less stressed by the whole thing this time, though.  If he has to get some supplementing early, then no big deal.  I will still work on maxing out my supply and breastfeeding as long as possible.   Awaiting a visit from the lactation consultant here.  Apparently, they focus on first-time mothers, but I am demanding assistance and advice as well.

Photos to come when my wireless connection improves....

Where the babies have no name

Well, little #2 is here.  The c-section went very smoothly, and he is 8 lbs, 4 oz, the exact same weight as his older brother.  He does not, however, have a name yet.  We are working on it.  My husband is into springing last-minute ideas on me, which is an approach I do not sanction.  We hope to have a name and a photo by tomorrow.

He has even more hair than So.ren did, and it's dark.  No wonder my heartburn was so out of control.  I think he looks more like my husband, whereas So.ren looks much more like me.  He's been feeding well, though who knows if I'm providing well.  We'll find out soon enough about that, I suppose.  

In the meantime, I'm starving and very tired.  They won't let me eat anything until I fart.  I do not approve of this policy -- it was different in Iowa.

Thanks for all of the good wishes!

The final countdown

I've been running around all day, tying up loose ends and trying to make sure everything is done before F.ranz's debut.  We seem almost ready.  I am exhausted but can't eat anything after 4am, which means I may get up around then for a snack.  I have a cold (thanks, So.ren), but I'm hoping this won't majorly affect my surgery or recovery.  We have a few things to do in the morning before we get to the hospital, like mail off my dop.pler monitor, and then we're supposed to be in surgery at 12 noon Pacific time.  Wish us luck!

39w1d and feeling kind of funny

Is wooziness a sign of impending labor?  I've been feeling woozy the past day or so.  Maybe I need to eat more iron or protein or Cost.co brand brownie bites.  I'm very much hoping not to be going into labor, however, since I still have much to accomplish.   We got some shelves built last week, which was a HUGE accomplishment, permitting us to unpack the remaining 16 boxes of books we had cluttering our home office.  My brother assembled our double stroller and fixed our coffee table yesterday, but I still need to do about 100 things.  I also would prefer that Fra.nz be born when we have a new president.  

My sleep has gone to shit the past couple of nights but will still, of course, be better than what is about to come.  My abdomen is suddenly WAY out in front of me -- the baby hasn't dropped, but I feel as if I am going to tip forward most of the time.  Shirts cannot contain my belly.  I feel empathy  for men with beer guts.

This morning, I got pulled over for apparently not stopping completely at a stop sign.  As usual, I did not try to get out of it, since I probably did it.  For once, though, this paid off -- the guy let me go without a ticket precisely because I did NOT deny it or ask for leniency.  It really must be the dawn of a new era here in America.

If I remember, I'll take a belly shot and upload it here later on.

No action at Ft. Cervix

I had my final OB appointment today before Fran.z's debut.  My cervix is still closed up tight, which is currently a plus, unlike during all of my embryo transfers.  My blood pressure was just lovely, and nothing has swollen up.  My weight has dropped, but the OB said not to be concerned by this because it is her opinion that most weight gain in the last month is due to swelling.  She said Fr.anz is still growing.  Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, I ate a huge lunch afterwards.  I ran into a couple of friends at the restaurant I went to, and they freaked me out about the whole kindergarten process here in San Francisco.  I'm hoping that the bizarre public-school allocation process here is fixed by the time S.oren needs to go to kindergarten.  They said that might actually happen.  I think I'll just put my head in the sand and hope that it does, since the cost of private school for 12 years would be impossible for us to manage.  If So.ren could even get in.

I also stopped by the main newborn/lactation center here and rented a Sy.mphony pump and an infant scale (hoping to avoid frequent trips to the pediatrician's office in Jan/Feb, when it is probably teeming with pneumonia and rotavirus germs), and I bought just about every feeding/pumping accessory and supplement you could possibly need.   I've been setting up Fr.anz's room and trying not to feel as if I am tempting fate by doing so.  I am always dismayed by women who feel confident enough to set up the nursery at like five months.  But maybe I should force myself to have that kind of confidence instead of indulging my superstitions.

Also, I saw a physician's assistant at the dermatologist, and she said the weird growth on my back was a skin tag.  She did, however, find a troublesome mole, so she removed both the tag and the mole and sent them off to the lab.  I feel relieved.

Differences

If memory serves, I am much more worried about my c-section this time around.  I'm not sure exactly why -- maybe I feel as if I got lucky the first time with such a good recovery; maybe I've collected too many stories of adverse surgical outcomes (of any variety) to feel at ease.  Or maybe it's because I have a little boy now, and I don't want anything to happen to me.  

I am also a bit more nervous about meeting F.ranz.  I feel that I know less about him.  With S.oren, I had so many ultrasounds that even though we'd had the weird amnio result, I really felt that he was going to be normal in every respect, aside from maybe the possible clubfoot that the MFM doctors periodically speculated about (and which did not come to pass).  I had seen him open and close his eyes on ultrasound.  I had seen that he had a full head of hair.  Each month, I had been reassured that all body parts, internal and external, looked proper in their development.  But with Fr.anz, the last ultrasound I had was at 28 weeks, so who the hell knows what he's like?  I mean, gosh, only TWO level II ultrasounds?  How do normal people manage?  And let's not even talk about the olden days, when ultrasounds and amnios and so forth didn't exist.

One of my friends in real life is experiencing a difficult pregnancy.  She's about four weeks behind me.  She's 37, but her nuchal and blood screening results came back with such low odds of abnormalities (1 in 10,000) that she (very reasonably) didn't do a CVS or amnio.  But then she didn't seem to be growing right, so she's had a bunch of ultrasounds, and over time more and more soft markers have been coming up for various trisomies.  She's now had a fetal brain MRI and heart scan (I forget the name), and they're trying to determine whether something is really wrong or not.  And because she's dealing with specialists, they're hard to schedule, so she'll have a test and then have to wait a week or two to talk to them.  She goes in today to meet with someone about the most recent tests, so please keep your fingers crossed for her.  

Send good vibes to Nancy

Regular commenter and due-date pal Nancy just had her son, Karl (yay!), a bit early, but she unfortunately also had retained placenta and had to have emergency surgery.  Because of blood loss during surgery, she is getting a blood transfusion today.  Please send her good vibes, prayers, etc.  And donate blood if you're able to because someone else in the world will also need a transfusion soon.

Not much action to report here.  One of my real-life due-date pals just delivered early, too, so now I'm in even more of an organizational frenzy than before.  I also found a strange, large growth on the skin on my back.  I am thinking/hoping it's just one of those crazy pregnancy skin tags you hear about, but I'm seeing a dermatologist on Weds. just to make sure it isn't something bad.

We had our house professionally cleaned yesterday for the first time since we moved here, and it is incredible.  I almost don't want to eat or shower or collect the mail because any of those things will disrupt the perfect order of the place at present.  I'm 38w1d (for those of you keeping track at home).  Nine days until F.ranz's debut.

37w2d and a mad, mad dog

My dog is pissed off. Why? Because we've had handymen, electricians, and other interlopers tromping through the house all day long. I suppose you could call this barrage of service calls "nesting," but as I've mentioned before, I think "nesting" is nothing more than "running out of time." It seems to be just the same feeling as when you've got a big work deadline approaching and you have to put the pedal to the metal. Or the petal to the medal, which is less effective. The angry hound is currently locked in the laundry room because he is about to lose his (rather small) mind.

I had an OB appointment today, and the cervix is still locked up tight, but the doctor pointed out that the baby's head is way down there. It's not engaged, she said, but he is no longer floating freely the way he used to, apparently. No weight gain, no swelling, good blood pressure, good fetal heartbeat, good fundal height. My appointments with this OB average about four minutes long, even at the end. It's different from the last time around. I've got a hospital tour scheduled for tonight, mainly so I can figure out if there's wireless access there and where they keep the Spr.ite and graham crackers. Vic.odin doesn't do me right if my tummy is empty.

So.ren is completely hilarious these days, and I'm feeling preemptively nostalgic for being able to focus on him alone. He has hit the language explosion phase and spouts off sentences left and right. He got a haircut before Christmas and now looks like a little kid (vs. a baby). He persistently requests waffles at all hours of the day and, when told that waffles are only for breakfast, sometimes asks, "Wafflecake?" Whatever that is, it sounds delicious. And forbidden.

36w3d and locked up tight

I had been starting to think that F.ranz was going to arrive early. I've felt a great deal of pressure on my pelvic floor, something I never experienced with So.ren. It comes on particularly when I'm out walking the dog. Another thing that occurs when I walk the dog is that I fall down, suggesting to me that I must be very imbalanced (physically, people!), perhaps because F.ranz had dropped.

Well, I went to the OB yesterday, and she said the baby hasn't dropped and that my cervix is as high and tight as a military haircut. That's good news: I need these last three weeks before F.ranz's scheduled debut (1/21) to get some shit done, such as thinking for a real name for F.ranz. And I haven't been able to get anything at all done this week or last week because our babysitter needed a vacation. I appear not to be one of those super-moms who can do childcare and still keep up on emails, Fac.ebook, various craft projects, bill-paying, organic-meal-making, and world-dominating. No, when I'm on childcare duty, that's all I can get done. That and crack a rib, which I did by coughing. It's better now, though apparently it won't be healed for another month or two. Still, I don't recommend it, particularly when neither ibu.profen nor margaritas are available for your use. If they were, I would be exceeding the recommended daily dosage of each.

Seriously, we don't have a name for Fr.anz. I think I am just going to give him one in the delivery room because the mother always wins that battle, right? I keep asking my husband if he's given it any more thought, and he replies, "No," and then goes back to reading or looking at Fa.cebook, which he sometimes calls "working."

What else? Well, I'm up 23 lbs. That seems good to me. No swelling, lots of peeing, lots of heartburn/reflux, lots of weird-ass dreams. I'm finally mostly over my eight-week cough and am eager to get my immune system back. I've been sleeping better and more deeply, meaning I'm no longer willing to trade all of my pregnancy ailments for sleep deprivation, but I don't have a choice, do I?

I saw a lactation consultant in preparation for baby #2, and she was full of interesting information, including a new book for low-supply mothers. I hope to synopsize this for you soon. Some upshots: (1) the number of women who cannot exclusively breastfeed is rising, perhaps because of environmental factors, perhaps because more infertile and/or older women are getting pregnant, both of which are considered low-supply risk factors by IBCLCs, (2) I should feel good about my chances at improved supply this time around, and (3) the hospital-grade pump really may make a difference. She did not think I should aggressively start the galactogogues or drugs until I see what I've got for 10 days or so, nor did she think goat's rue (the one thing I didn't try) would help my particular situation, though I may still give it a whirl. She concurred with me that Regl.an should be banned and domp.eridone should be legal. Really, who could argue with that? Not anyone who's tried 'em both; that's for sure. I went ahead and ordered a supply of dom.peridone from the sketchy internet pharmacy. While I was at it, I ordered Front.line and Heart.gard for my dog because I hate having to get those from the vet. Suck it, vets!

Well, So.ren, the light of my life, will be waking up from his nap soon and demanding waffles. I will tell him that waffles are only for breakfast, after which he will suggest cake as an appropriate substitute. Tonight, we're going down to visit some friends in the 'burbs, eat dinner, play board games, and be asleep by 10. At least I will be. May 2009 be a great year for all of us!

Sad news

I have been meaning to give an update, but I think we'll just pause for a moment: Emilie from Lemmondrops, whose blog I've been reading for about six months, died from sarcoma. She had sons close in age, which might have been part of the reason I latched onto her blog, but she was also a lovely writer and person. If you haven't read it before, it's worth going through the archives.

She had just gone into home hospice care, and the end seemed to come very quickly, but her last few posts seemed as if she were ready. If anyone ever is. Please send your best to her husband and sons.

Monkey!

That's what S. thinks the Ge.ico ge.cko is. He kept exclaiming "monkey" at random times; eventually, we noticed that it was whenever we were passing billboards with this creature on them. At first, I tried to correct him, but now I just roll with it.

I'm 33w4d today -- wow! And I'm still coughing -- boo! I think I'm on the mend this time, though -- really. S.oren got another cold, which I then caught, which seemed to extend my cough, but at least I didn't get the all-over body rash that he's sporting right now. Luckily for him, he's small and cute, and rashes don't look quite as threatening on big cheeks and a burly little physique.

F.ranz continues to rock and roll in my abdomen, which is, by comparison to last time, enormous. I'm realizing that time is growing short and I need to do some rather major things like wash all of Fran.z's hand-me-down clothes, install blackout shades in his room, and get my entire life in order.

To honor your requests, here's a recent photo of my little boy. He's getting a bit surly, just in time for his brother's debut, but he sure is funny most of the time.

32w1d

I don't know why, but 32 weeks feels like a good milestone to me. I think maybe Dr. Google told me that it was a big one to make -- or maybe it was 34 weeks, but let's just go with 32 so that I can feel good about it.

I'm just coming off about three weeks of a cold that really ended up kicking my ass. Being a hypochondriac, I began to think that perhaps I had lymphoma or something, or that maybe I had abruptly become geriatric and would always feel this way. Like, walking up one flight of stairs made me seriously winded. Or even just holding So.ren for five minutes would make me feel faint. Cooking Thanksgiving dinner felt like hiking Mount Whitney in a day (not that I've done that, but I know people who have). And then, yesterday, I started feeling better, just like that. We went on walks; we ran errands; I stood up for long stretches without feeling woozy. Outstanding!

I've finished up my various consulting projects, so I now have a couple of months before F.ranz arrives to do whatever, as long as it doesn't involve spending money, since the end of my projects means the end of my own income stream until I look for a real job in the spring, when there are not likely to be any, it appears. Wasn't that a wonderfully constructed sentence?

F.ranz's debut, incidentally, is scheduled for 1/21/09. I was hoping for 1/22, the start of Aquarius, but my OB is busy that day, and I guess 1/21 is nice in that it'll be O.bama's first full day in office, and all of our problems will be solved. Also, that date turns out to have been my grandmother's birthday. Of the three grandparents I knew (one died long before my birth), I was probably the least close to her, but, oddly, after she got Alzhe.imer's, she became much warmer, so now I think of her fondly. Strangely, I have many more fears this time about a c-section than I did the first time, though I still think I'd rather go that route than a VBAC. I also asked to have my problematic, endometriosis-afflicted right ovary removed at the same time, but I may decide not to have that done -- it seems like asking for trouble somehow.

Very boldly, I've begun assembling the contents of Fr.anz's room. I still feel as if I am tempting fate by doing so. But we've got all the big items, including a hand-me-down crib, a cheery IKE.A changing table, and even diapers. So.ren unwittingly gave his glider to Fr.anz in exchange for the ubiquitous I.KEA Po.ang chair. I think Fran.z will have to have a Scandinavian name, not just to match his brother's, but also to coordinate with the IK.EA palace we've assembled around here.

OB appointment tomorrow; will report in with any exciting or shocking developments. Now that I'm back to being a housewife, I hope to blog more regularly, perhaps even with thematic, well-thought-out posts. I know.

29w1d

It's hard to believe I'm now 29 weeks. I'm now on biweekly visits to the OB. I actually allowed a crib and bedding (hand-me-downs from a friend -- one of the benefits of having kids later than everyone else) into my house, which still seems so presumptuous to me. F.ranz moves a lot, though not right this second (wake up, F.ranz). He's head down. My hematoma seems to be gone (yay!). He's growing right on target. My placenta moved up, and I am no longer in danger of pla.centa pr.evia. My own weight gain has slowed, luckily. I think this is just because my reflux is so bad that I can't eat after about 3pm without dire consequences.

Poor So.ren got a head injury (big hematoma on his forehead), then an intestinal illness right afterward that landed us in the ER at midnight on Halloween. While he only barfed for about 12 hours, I got it and barfed for 24+ hours. The GI diseases you get from your kids seem to be the biggest downside of parenting -- I went years without one, and now I've had like five in the past year. It's not a bad burden to live with.

I find myself wanting to fast-forward a little bit to the newborn days, just to get them over with. I want Fra.nz to be okay and here, and I want to get through the sleep deprivation. I want my reflux to be gone and to stop peeing all the time. In contrast to my first pregnancy, I find I am also ready to get back to tbe booze. It's going to be insane once we actually have two kids in the house, of course, and I'll probably regret saying all of this. And, obviously, I want Fran.z to stay inside until his appointed debut. Speaking of the debut, because F.ranz is head down, I guess I could go for a VBAC if I wanted, but since I had a good experience with the scheduled C, I may just stick with that.

The best thing about my due date is that it means NO TRAVEL for Thanksgiving or Christmas. We are going to try to sneak in a short babymoon in a couple of weeks in Southern California, dropping off S.oren with my father-in-law and stepmother-in-law. They don't know what they're in for. I hope they can keep that little fellow alive. It isn't always easy.

I had a 3D ultrasound of F.ranz last week, but he had his hands in front of his face the whole time, so all of the photos came out even weirder and more alien-looking than the last ones.