ELEANOR ROSE McCARTNEY
Born August 16, 2020
From her uncle
SAMUEL JEROME McCARTNEY
Born September 7, 1993
"Dear Ellie, You have dethroned my long reign as baby of the family. No worries tho, your fun uncle is putting together a lesson plan to make sure you understand the roles and responsibilities that come with that position of power — and that just-right amount of trouble that is acceptable!" ~~ XOXO, From your fun Uncle Sam
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Same disclaimer as last time!
CHILDBIRTH: ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS,
Read at your own risk: this narrative describes
labor and delivery in anatomically accurate detail.
BRACE YOURSELF!
Looking back, it seems that with Ben I had a very easy pregnancy -- with Sam a more typical one, which seemed difficult at the time only because I was using an easy pregnancy as my point of comparison. I think that my labor, too, with Sam was a typical one. Labor with Ben wasn't extremely difficult, but definitely atypical. I characterized the two by saying that with Ben I had a number of recognizable signs but didn't know what was going on; with Sam, I had a pretty good idea what was going on, but I didn't recognize any of the signs.
In many ways, it seems that Sam started coming on Friday, September 3rd. At 8:30 that morning I had a regular exam, this time with the nurse practitioner, Annamaria. When she did he internal exam (the previous week had been my first internal since May), it was so painful that tears came to my eyes. She apologized profusely, but I couldn't stop crying -- not so much because of the pain, which passed soon enough, but because was I suddenly reminded of how much it had hurt to have Ben and how much it was going to hurt again. I think it was the first time I had acknowledged -- mind, body, and soul -- that having another child was going to mean experiencing another childbirth! (After the exam, I went swimming for the last time of the season. When I got to the pool, an hour later than usual, my friends called out, "We thought you might be having the baby!" I said, "No, just a doctor's appointment.")
Perhaps it was the sense of imminent dread that got my labor started. The cervix itself was softened but not at all dilated; however, Gerry and I were gearing up mentally for the birth. Since Ben had come 17 days before his due date (on the 2nd rather than the 19th of June), we half - suspected that SaSa might do the same. With a due date of September 22, we figured any time after the 1st of the month was likely. Friday evening I lost a very small amount of mucus, faintly tinged with blood; but I assumed that the cervix had probably been irritated somewhat by the painful internal exam. The next day, we drove to Ocean City, New Jersey (about 50 minutes from Philadelphia) to spend the Labor Day Weekend at Brian and Melani's beach house. The day was pleasant (we all enjoyed the Boardwalk and the kiddie rides) and passed uneventfully (as far as the Baby was concerned); but late that evening, I lost a bit more mucus and had bad indigestion. I think I was just a bit panicked that the Baby would start coming when we were out of town, even though when Brian had offered us the use of the cottage, he had reassured us that he didn't think the Baby was coming as soon as we thought it might! We all laughed about that for years to come!
We had another nice day Sunday (September 5th), getting up fairly early for breakfast at an Italian restaurant on the Boardwalk and making it to the beach by 10:00 a.m. Ben was having a great time, covering up his "kielbasas" (i.e., his "big legs") with sand. A friendly woman passerby observed that I did not look pregnant from behind, only from the front! When she asked when I was due, I said, "Any day now!" This exchange reminded me of something that happened the day before Ben was born. I had stopped by Von's bookstore (in West Lafayette) around noon on Friday, June 1st, and one of the clerks there asked, "When is your baby due?" and I said "Any minute." In retrospect, this remark seemed to me like an omen, since my water broke about 14 hours later!
We stayed at the beach a couple of hours, until Brian showed up and we all walked back to the house where we had lunch and a nap. In the afternoon, we took Ben for one more round of carnival rides and then went out for dinner with Brian, Melani, and Scotty. As we were getting in the car (around 6:00 p.m.) I had a very noticeable contraction in my lower abdomen, where I had not previously felt any activity. I did not feel anything else until after the meal, when we got in the car to return to Philadelphia. All the way home, I felt those lower abdominal contractions, which seemed nothing like the Braxton - Hicks contractions I had been noticing across the top of my abdomen for the past month or so. Again, I can attribute the tension I felt to the uneasy situation of being trapped in the car on the highway in a long chain of holiday traffic. The contractions went away almost immediately upon our arrival at home. I called our neighbors Beth and Nelson to see if they could watch Ben in case we went to the hospital that night. They weren't home, but after leaving a message on their machine, I felt better.
On Monday -- Labor Day -- Gerry, Ben, and I spent the entire day inside (though it was a lovely day) restoring order to the bookshelves and other areas of the study and guest room after the floor - sanding project of September 1st. Since we hadn't heard from Beth and Nelson yet, I called Teresa and John Chou to see if they could help us with Ben if the Baby came that day. They were more than willing, and Teresa asked me if I'd felt any "nesting" urges. I said that I wouldn't recognize them if I had since I'd been in a state of enforced nesting all summer [following major household move from Indiana to Philadelphia in April] just trying to get the house in order before the Baby came. I skipped swimming because I was spotting off and on all day, but I was not really alarmed because it was very light with still only the merest amount of blood. Throughout the day, I felt a pain in my round ligament, high on the right side (the exact spot where I had felt a lot of pain in late June, so much so that I had called the doctor -- who said that this was just the ligament stretching). But I had no more lower abdominal contractions, so I did not feel worried. I did resolve, however, to call the doctors' office the next day.
On Tuesday morning, I woke up early (maybe 6:00 a.m. -- well before Ben, anyway) and discovered a substantial, bloody, vaginal discharge. I felt very much as if I were waking up on the first day of my period. This sensation was quiet different than the beginning of my labor with Ben, which came on more or less all at once with the water, mucus plug, and "bloody" show (which was hardly noticeable, hardly bloody, at all) breaking all at once. Now I was concerned, since with Ben there had been no bleeding at all. I also had a low, crampy feeling, but nothing like the contractions of Saturday night. I lay down until Ben woke up, and then he and I went downstairs and cleaned the green guest bath. I should have recognized this as a "nesting" sign, since it was a room that we rarely bothered cleaning, so rarely in fact that Ben even asked, "Is Grandma coming?" If not, why were we cleaning her bathroom? Haha! After finishing this task and getting ready for school, Ben wanted to look at the Sheila Kitzinger childbirth book. So I sat on the family room couch with him and we looked at the drawing of the full - term in utero baby. Ben than had a premonition: "Maybe this baby need come out now; maybe there's no more room in there." He was right!
After breakfast, I started putting the glassware back into the dining room buffet. This was the last room left to assemble after the sanding. I was going to spend the morning at home, trying to call the doctor and waiting for the carpet fitters to come and do the third floor; Gerry was going to take Ben to school and leave the car parked at St. Mary's just to simplify things a bit. As he and Ben were leaving and I was frenetically dusting glasses, Gerry said, "I don't know why you're in such a rush -- you're going to be pregnant for two more weeks!" Once again, we misread the signal -- I really was nesting! When I reached Dr. Rhoa, he said, "You sound kind of excited." I wanted to say, "Yes, I am, because I'm having my floors done today; I've been waiting all summer to be able to go barefoot in my own home!" He said that I should come in sometime that day and that rather than going to the office I should go the Labor Floor and he would come over and check me there. When I said, thinking of the carpet men, that I couldn't make it that morning, he aid, "Well, just don't leave it until too late in the day." He also suggested that I could be having contractions and not feeling them. I spent the rest of the morning putting a few things out for the mail (a card to Lisa Berg, a birthday card for my sister Di) and calling a few friends and neighbors that I hadn't been able to reach over the weekend, one of whom asked "Are you having a contraction now," and I said, "No, I"m just winded." Actually, I remember feeling very peaceful just then, sitting on the counter top, in a relaxed phone chatting position. The cats, Marcus and Josef were sprawled around the kitchen floor taking naps, and most of the errands I'd hoped to accomplish were completed.
Soon after, the carpet fitters showed up and I went into nesting mode again, sweeping the kitchen, the front, back, basement, and outside stairs, plus vacuuming the study rug and the dining room rug, and wiping up as much leftover sanding dust as I could find. One of the carpet men, lugging some equipment upstairs, said, "You're working hard too." I said, "Yes, it's my last chance!" I talked to Gerry a few times on the phone, to inform him of the carpet progress and make plans for the afternoon We both felt that going to the Labor Floor would end up being a big waste of time, yet it seemed foolish not to have the bleeding checked (which was continuing at a slow but steady rate). In addition to the carpeting, we were having the kitchen floor waxed that afternoon, and having someone look at BMW brakes (because, like me, they were leaking fluid). Finally, making a peanut butter sandwich, I said to Ann, our 4th floor renter, that I wanted to stock up on energy in case I got to the hospital and people started telling me I couldn't have anything to eat. I was just on my way from the kitchen through the dining room when Ben and Gerry arrived home (so it must have been about 12:15 p.m.); suddenly I had to sit down on the dining room chair. I was having my first clearly recognizable (though not extremely painful) contraction. I told Gerry that I'd just have a shower and then we'd go; he'd drop me off at the hospital and then take the car up to Bala Cynwyd. Ann could stay with Ben that afternoon and evening, if need be.
After my shower, I plodded up the stairs to our 4th floor laundry room, and one of the the carpet men said, "Are you alright?" I said "Yes," but vaguely sensed that I wasn't really. On the way downstairs, I stopped in the family room to pick up my packed overnight bag (just in case) and say "Good bye" to Ann and Ben. I also asked Ann, "If I end up staying and Gerry forgets, could you please put the clothes that are in the washer into the dryer." Ann said, "I thought you were going to say 'If Gerry forgets I'm there could you please come get me!'" Haha! Even funnier is that after we got in the car, Gerry did say, "Here's a subway token so that you can ride the trolley home." That was how I'd gone back and forth to a few of my previous appointments, but this time it didn't seem like such a good idea, and we finally agreed that he would stop back by the hospital -- just in case. In the car, I felt another contraction and sweat breaking out across my forehead. Just then, however, Gerry said, "It's so humid today," so I thought maybe it was just the heat and not a contraction after all.
I felt okay when we got to the hospital. Gerry drove off into the distance and I casually strolled in for my "check up." This was quite a different scene from the morning when Ben came, and I arrived at the hospital doubled up in pain, wearing Gerry's old pajamas, and collapsing into the first available wheelchair! When I asked the receptionist for directions to the Labor Floor, she said, "Are you here to visit someone?" I said, "No, I'm just having my check up here at the hospital today." After a bit of wandering around looking for the right elevator, I made my way to the Labor Floor, and checked in with the receptionist there, who asked me if I were in labor. Again, "No, the doctor just told me to have my check up here today." Before I knew it, I was put into a little room, instructed to dress in a hospital gown, and hooked up to a couple of monitors. Again, I had the sinking feeling that the whole afternoon would be wasted when I had so many little things to do, and I wanted to say, "You must have the wrong person; I'm just here for a check up." I was reading John McGahern's novel Amongst Women, and out of the corner of my eye I could clearly see on the monitor that every four minutes or so I was having a contraction which went off the scale, but it was nothing that I couldn't continue to read through. The pain was still at about the level of a mild menstrual cramp. At 2:30, a nurse practitioner came in to the an internal exam and -- what a surprise -- I was 3 - 4 cm dilated! In a way, though, I wasn't surprised. I felt very calm, and the sense of nonchalance that Gerry and I had shared that morning had not yet been taken over by the mounting urgency of the situation. The nurse looked at me curiously and asked me several times, "Are you in labor?" I said, "I guess I am." She concluded, "I guess you are too, but you just have a pleasant way of showing it."
Of course, it was early yet, but this constellation of sensations is what I had expected but didn't have with Ben's labor: a sense of rising and falling action with heach contraction and a pain similar to menstrual cramping. Now, I finally understood those stories of women who call their friends on the phone or go for a walk or see a movie during early labor. (I remember one friend going to Bible Study!) I can still recall my sense of astonishment when Ben was coming and the nurse said, "As soon as we complete all this prep work, you can for a walk." I knew she was wrong about that: I could barely stand then, let alone walk. But here I was with Sam, reading a book! It seems to me, now that it's over, that I really had a long, slow early labor with Sam, beginning with the first show of mucus on Friday night and lasting until about 4:00 p.m. Tuesday, when the transitional pain started really kicking in. With Ben, I had absolutely no sense of early labor, just the intense transition phase contractions; but now I see that I could have had several hours of early contractions that I simply never felt (maybe during that time between 2:00 a.m. when the water broke and 4:30 a.m. when I felt the first contraction, which was extremely powerful; with Ben there had been no sense of a predictable rise and fall; every contraction was a shattering, disorienting earthquake of pain).
Shortly after that first internal exam (sometime between 2:30 - 3:00 p.m.), Gerry arrived and was greatly surprised to hear the news that we were having a baby! He had a meeting at 3:00 p.m., so we decided that he should go ahead to campus to check on things. We also thought, superstitiously, that if he stayed nothing would happen, but if he left the labor would speed along! After he left I was moved to a labor room and given several more internals right away (it seemed that everyone who walked into the room was giving me an internal exam; also, it seemed that everyone was really pushing me to have an epidural, but I kept declining). At 3:30 p.m., I was pronounced 4 - 5 cm dilated; at 3:45, 5 - 6 cm. Even though the exams were quite painful, it was gratifying to hear the news of such steady progress! Each contraction was stronger than the one before; but, as I told one of the doctor: "It's not the worst pain I've ever felt." She said, "Just wait." Not exactly the most charming bedside manner, but she was right. She also informed that she was "under Dr. Rhoa," who was already under Dr. Fang. As we moved down the food chain, I was beginning to wonder if at the end of the day a work - study student was going to deliver the Baby!
Around this time, one of the nurses started to insert a "routine IV," which I did not want (and had not been required with Ben's birth back in Indiana). After two unsuccessful (and very painful) attempts, she brought in someone else who also failed (all three times in my left arm). Right at this moment, Gerry arrived, and said, "Please stop! This is unnecessary, and you're making her feel horrible." We both knew that I needed all of my concentration to endure the mounting intensity of each contraction. Finally, they called in the anesthesiologist who shifted to my right arm and numbed it before inserting the IV. It was still annoying, but at least he was kind and efficient. At 5:00 p.m., I was till dilated 6 cm (the same as an hour and fifteen minutes earlier). This wasn't really bad news, but it was disheartening since the pain was getting so much sharper. The next hour and fifteen minutes was the worst. I was getting very little relief between each contraction, and I kept saying to Ger things like "How does the human race survive? How do people keep on doing it? I could never go through this again! I can't bear it! I can't do it!" etc. etc. But I never took it out on him personally, the way they stupidly portray on TV and in the movies. My concerns were more existential than that! According to my Bradley Childbirth Book, these were the signposts of self - doubt, which indicate that the transition phase is nearing its completion. But, of course, I wasn't thinking rationally enough to remember this at the time! Instead, we asked if I could have some kind of pain relief through the IV, since it was already in place. Still, whenever anyone suggested "epidural" all I could think of was that IV being jabbed into my arm, and I remember saying, "Not in my back, not in my back!" Despite that a couple of friends and relatives had reported excellent epidural experiences during the past year, I could not forget our neighbor Freda saying that hers had been painful and that she had been aware of it the entire time. I just didn't have the courage to try it. And, as Gerry pointed out, the relief as each contraction ended really was immediate, regardless of how painful it had just been. So each time I would think, "Well, that one is over now and I didn't need the drugs." Of course, as the next one started up, I'd once again be thinking, "I can't endure another one!"
Somewhere along the line, Dr. Rhoa had come into say that he was going off duty and that he was not sure who the on - call doctor was for the evening shift (and that if my contractions slowed down, which they certainly didn't appear to be doing, I would be giving pitocin to maintain the labor). At 6:15 p.m. we were pleased to see the head of the practice Dr. Weinstein, who had made an excellent first impression on us back in May, although we had not seen him since then. We had definitely moved up the food chain, not down! He checked my cervix, and said that I was now at 8 cm and that it was not too late for demerol in the IV; he said it might relax me (he then went off to change out of his street clothes). The demerol wasn't administered until 6:35 p.m., when the nurse that it would be about 18 minutes before it took effect and that while it would not block out the pain entirely, it would make me "care about it less." Well, unfortunately, I cared about it just as much as before! I had a number of excruciating contractions in the 18 minutes that followed. In between each one, however, I did seem to blank out completely. On the one hand this caused me less anxiety because I was no longer anticipating being in great pain, but on the other hand each contraction was like a jolt which shook me with complete surprise since I was dozing through the rising action and startling into consciousness only for the climactic peak of the pain.
But the effects of the demerol and even the pain itself soon seemed beside the point; by 6:55 p.m. things were moving very quickly indeed. this was when Weinstein returned in his hospital clothes, gave me an internal exam (9 cm), and broke the water by mashing his fist around inside me -- or so it felt, while I writhed and thrashed my legs and cried out, "No, no, no!" When the very next contraction ended, I felt a completely new sensation -- as if a cannon ball were throttling through my body. I said, "Maybe it's the baby coming!" Next came the awkward job of moving off the bed onto a stretcher and being wheeled into a delivery room, to the chorus of "Don't push, don't push." Of course, I could not have kept from pushing if I had wanted to. Finally, I understood about the "urge to bear down," which I had never experienced with Ben's delivery.
Most of what happened in that delivery room was rather hazy to me. Like the routine IV, the staff insisted on the outdated stir - ups, and I thought my legs would break off with the pain when they were forced into that position, which seemed to strain the muscles against the way in which I had been using them for the past couple of hours. I was given local anesthetic (shots which I felt vaguely) and an episiotmy (which I did not feel at all or even realize had been done until afterward). Gerry said that all this time I was clinging on to him so hard that he could hardly breathe. But I can recall that at one point I did not know where he was in the room (I wasn't wearing my glasses) and none of the nurses seemed nearby and right in the middle of a painful pushing contraction I said, "Somebody help me, somebody help me." At this point Weinstein said, "All these people are here to help you." Also, around this time (probably before the episiotomy), in between contractions I was gasping in response to some other kind of pain thta I could feel around the birth opening. Gerry said, "Is it a contraction?" And all I could do was shake my head and motion toward Weinstein who was standing at the end of the table between my legs. Weinstein then explained that he was massaging the opening to relax it as much as possible, and Gerry tried to reassure me, "He's trying to do everything the right way."
In fact, Weinstein was very encouraging. When he said he was there to help us, he seemed to really mean it. He was not there to take over the work, but to talk us through what we had left to do. This was similar to the moment in Ben's delivery when Dr. Bosley said, "I'm going to help you have this baby." Weinstein kept saying, "It's up to you. I bet you can have this baby in only five more contractions, but maybe you can do it in four. It's up to you." I remember thinking to myself, "If only I push hard enough, I will not be pregnant anymore."
When Weinstein saw the crown, he said, "I hope you didn't want a baby with a lot of hair, because I don't see any!" From behind the doctor, Gerry gave me a big "Okay" sign, and even in my groggy state I knew what he meant -- that he really could see the top of the head (unlike with Ben when I pushed so hard but could not get the Baby to crown). The next thing I knew, the head was out -- Sam was nearly born! Weinstein was saying "Oh, there's hair after all"; one of the nurses was saying, "Hi Baby, hi Baby"; and Gerry was saying, "He looks just like Ben!" One more push and the body was born, and everyone was saying, "It's a boy!" Although we hadn't known for sure, we were not too surprised. Not only was my intuition that it was a boy, but the ultra - sound technician had suspected as much back in April (the same thing was true when Ben's ultra - sound was done in February 1990); but both times we just left that information on the back burner rather than assuming it to be absolute).
Several things were done to Sam before I saw or held him: his cord was cut, his eyes were washed out, and his footprints were taken (and my thumbprint, I think). I was so exhausted that I didn't really mind waiting for a few minutes; and I felt confident that Sam was getting the bonding he needed since Gerry was right there with him. I was also being stitched up at this time(this was the first point at which I even realized that I had been cut), and I vividly remember jumping and crying out when Weinstein started to make a stitch where I was not entirely numb. He apologized profusely, and again Gerry said, "He's making sure that everything is done right." When it was time to wheel me out of the delivery room, I was shaking and shivering uncontrollably; so one of the nurses wrapped me up in heated flannel sheets -- a most wonderful sensation which I can still remember savoring after Ben was born. Back in our labor room, I put my glasses on and gradually came out of my demerol haze -- two factors that made me feel much more focused. Gerry said that I looked great for just having given birth. Sam was sucking away on Gerry's finger, and I gave him a try at each breast before the nurses took him to the nursery for his newborn profile. Weinstein came in to congratulate us again; and, strangely enough, an anesthesiologist (not the same one who had done my IV) came by to apologize for not being able to set up my epidural in time (a couple of the nurses made similar remarks, so I think there been some confusion in their minds about my pain relief choices; but that's okay).
It was now 8:00 p.m., and I was supposed to take a nap for an hour while Sam was gone. Unfortunately, I was also having my vital signs checked every quarter hour, so I didn't get much of a rest (nothing like the luxurious four - hour nap that I had after Ben was born). Gerry took this opportunity to run home and tell Ann and Ben the news. He returned to the hospital just as I was being wheeled from the labor room to our recovery room and handed me a couple of postcards that we got in the mail that day. We sat in our semi - dark room, reading these things and eating a ham sandwich that the nurse brought. It was wrapped in a vending - machine container and did not look particularly appetizing, but it tasted delicious! At this time I asked the nurse to remove my IV, but she said it had to stay in because the bag was filled with a pitocin solution (administered by injection following Ben's birth).
I can't remember exactly when Sam was brought in (was it before Gerry left for the night?) or the sequence of events throughout the night. I know the nurses brought him for his first feeding at 3:00 a.m. Wednesday, and he had another one at 6:00 a.m. (but I'm not sure if he was in the room between 3:00 & 6:00 or if the was taken back to the nursery). Weinstein came to give me a brief exam at 7:30 a.m., and Gerry came at around 9:00 a.m. It was either Weinstein or Rhoa (who came to give me my dismissal checkup the following morning) who remarked that Same looked like a cesarean baby rather than a vaginal delivery because his big round head was so perfect -- due to having been in the birth canal only very briefly.
Sam spent most of the day in the room while I rested and read and fed him a few times. Ben stayed at St. Mary's all day Wednesday; Gerry picked him up after work and they both came by to see me. Ben was excited and happy and very pleased to report that Big Round Moon Sasa (our pre-birth nickname for "Sam or Sappho") was now "Sam -- not Sasa." But Little Ben was so tired that he could hardly stand; for a long time afterward he would refer to "that long day when Sam was born and Ben stayed at school all day." I had a quiet evening. Gerry called me on the phone after he got Ben to bed. Sam was wheeled in and out occasionally; I sat on the bed, sorting out all the free baby product offers and coupons, reading a little bit, and feeding Sam. I tried to rest but had only one real block of sleep, from 4:30 - 7:30 a.m. Thursday. The morning went quickly, with a few doctors and nurses coming by to orchestrate our dismissal. I took a shower and had breakfast but saved my lunch tray so that Ben could have a "picnic" with me on the hospital bed. It was a very typical hospital room (unlike our room in Lafayette, which had a double bed and special wall - paper); but at least it was private and had a private shower (in Lafayette, I had to use a shower that was across the hallway from the room). When Ben was born, there had been so much activity in our room, lots of calls and people -- both friends and hospital personnel -- stopping by. But this time, it was more as if Sam and I were hibernating; and, really, that's what we needed.
When we got home -- Gerry and Ben came to get us at noon on Thursday -- I felt very calm and collected and remarkably well - recovered. Unfortunately, the orderly arrived with the wheel chair much sooner than we expected, so had to rush Ben through his snack (and then buy him a "Barney" balloon in the lobby while Gerry went to fetch the car). Gerry videotaped Sam and Ben before returning to work, and then both boys took long naps that afternoon, up in our bedroom -- Ben on the floor in his "big comforble mest" [mest = "messy nest"] and Sam in the middle of the bed -- while I put things away and tried to tidy up in the wake of the carpet fitters. Every now and then I would glance across the room at Ben and Sam and think, "Look at my children." We were all up there still when Gerry returned -- an amazingly peaceful afternoon for the four of us together.
in another big nest that Ben carefully assembled under the
dining room table for himself and his new Baby Brother.
Ben adored Baby Sam from the word go and none of us ever feared that the second baby was somehow a threat to the first -- but I have heard a lot of people say that, so perhaps that experience may be the common one, but it wasn't mine.Next Fortnightly Post
I do remember how LARGE Ben (age 3) seemed next to Sam, kind of like a dog and a cat napping together. I remember watching them sleep side by side in the nest made by Ben under the dining room table and thinking they looked like two separate species.
Whenever Sam cried, Ben would ask me sorrowfully, "What's wrong to Baby Sam?" Ahhhh, that broke my heart!
~ composed September 24 & 28, October 20, 1993; April 20, 1994
Monday, September 28th
Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com
Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com
