This will be my last pregnancy update.

I was 36 weeks pregnant on Saturday, September 26, 2009.  40 weeks is the “due date” and 37 weeks is considered “full term.”  But 36 weeks is considered safe and close enough to full term.  It is the minimum gestation to have a home birth, which is what I was planning.

The pregnancy was very very hard on me with lots of fatigue and discomfort, but was going quite well from all other ways of looking at it.  The baby was growing at just the right rate.  He moved a lot and his heartbeat was always perfect.  I had an ultrasound at 20 weeks which showed he was a boy and that everything looked normal. My blood pressure was 110/60 or a bit less every time.  My last midwife appt was Wednesday before this all happened and my blood pressure was normal, along with everything else.

On Sunday, he only kicked and moved twice, at 11am and 6pm, no matter how much I poked and prodded.  And each of those times it was weak and short-lived.  When his position dropped a week and a half earlier (normal pre-birth occurrence), his movement also decreased but he checked out fine and started kicking at normal levels shortly afterward.  So I kept telling myself it was nothing.

Sunday night was the start of Yom Kippur services and we were at synagogue.  When services were over around 10pm, I went to one of the members who was a doctor and got her advice.  She said to call my midwife immediately.  I did and the midwife said to head directly to the ER.  The ER close to our house isn’t very home birth friendly and doesn’t have great OB services so we were going to go to my backup hospital way south of us.  But we already 10 mins north of our home and Michael was too tired to drive far, so we decided to go to Sutter Santa Rosa which our midwife often uses as a backup and where several doctor members of the synagogue happen to work.  The plan was to get monitored for an hour or two then go home.

We arrived about 11pm and were immediately sent up to labor and delivery and put on a monitor.  When I heard the perfect strong heartbeat I felt so relieved and thought that was it, we’d be sent home.  But the heartbeat was too perfect.  It’s supposed to go up and down with movement, only he didn’t move.

My blood pressure was high, in the 140′s to 160′s, with the bottom number in the 70′s I think (hard to remember) and there was protein in my urine.  I had had edema in my lower legs for ages.  Those three things together are not good though and I was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia.

They sent me for an ultrasound.  They do a rating out of 8 points.  He got a 2.  The heartbeat was strong but there was nothing but tiny movements and the blood flow through the cord was impaired.  One of his lungs was collapsed and they didn’t know why.  They told us he was better off outside of me than inside.  They thought his brain was probably not affected at this point and that he would probably be okay, though he’d need some intervention.  A c-section was the only possible choice.

They waited until my midwife Claudette arrived (once in the hospital she became my doula).  I am very anti-c-section except for medical emergencies but I knew this was the only option.  I chose my midwife precisely  because she does not follow mainstream thinking and has the skills and experience to safely help women choose to avoid interventions they are sometimes pushed into.  She told me to have the c-section.

I spoke with the surgeon and the anesthesiologist about my chemical sensitivities and drug reactions and they were very accommodating and worked with me well.  I was still scared to death and crying. But I would do anything to save my baby’s life and this seemed to be it.

At 2am they took me to the operating room.  The surgery was just awful.  No pain or anything but it felt just horrible all around. It was an emergency but not the full-out get the baby out right away kind so I had a spinal vs general anesthesia and they were able to take their time so my internal organs didn’t get too messed up.  Claudette held my hand the whole time and Michael stayed with Miriam in the room where she was sleeping on a mattress the staff set up.

William Gabriel Norwitz was born at 2:54am.

They wouldn’t let me see him.  I had almost no updates.  They had a team of doctors working on him.  He didn’t cry.  They intubated him but it took 3 tries.  I had to stay there for another long long while (I’m guessing half an hour but it felt much longer) to be sewn up.

I went to the recovery room but still didn’t know how my son was.  I knew he had been intubated and was in the NICU and that he had a cleft lip.  Post-surgery, my blood pressure went up.  And up.  At first they weren’t too worried and gave me meds.  But my pressure was more than 200/100 (dipping down to the 170′s or 180′s as well) for a couple of hours after several doses of a couple different meds.  I could tell how freaked out everyone was.  I knew I was in danger of a stroke or seizure or death.  I didn’t care.

They let Michael go see William and told him he was “probably not going to make it.”  I was shocked when I heard this.  I was worried about brain damage but thought he would survive.  We woke Miriam up.  A few minutes later, Michael and Miriam went to see him and Michael asked for some hard numbers.  What are his chances?  He was told “zero.”

I told them over and over again, do not let my son die before I can see him.  It took a very long time but they finally brought him into my room in an incubator.  I couldn’t move my lower body yet and could only reach his hand to hold it.  He looked so unhappy and uncomfortable.  I told them I wanted to hold him.  Our Rabbi was on her way and they were afraid of transferring him before she arrived.  I kept insisting but logistics kept it from happening.

When the Rabbi arrived it still took a while but they did give him to me.  I opened my gown and placed him skin to skin on my chest and arm, then we put a blanket over both of us.  He had the ventilator breathing for him and his eyes were gooey so I’m not sure he could see anything (I still don’t know what color his eyes were).  But he was awake.  Once on me he relaxed and seemed much more comfortable.

I held him for about half an hour while the Rabbi performed a naming ceremony for him.  Gabriel is his Hebrew name.  Michael held him for a little bit as well.  Miriam chose to stay in the room at times and to go out with Claudette at other times.  We gave her many chances to decide what she wanted to do.  She understood her brother was going to die and was very very upset about it.

This entire time was when my blood pressure was through the roof.  I had been getting over a cold and the crying and stress filled my sinuses and nose so I couldn’t breathe at all except through my mouth.  And then my throat started to swell up and I had trouble breathing.  I asked for oxygen and they said my sats (O2 saturation) were fine but I said give it to me anyway and they did.  It helped slightly.  The BP stuff didn’t scare me because I didn’t care at that point.  But my throat swelling did.  I did not want to not be able to say goodbye to my son.  The staff monitored me closely of course but they thought it was stress.

I did not find out until Thursday that my surgeon had given me an antibiotic during surgery that was a “cousin” to penicillin.  (I didn’t quite catch the name but it sounded like Ciprosporin.)  I told him about the throat swelling and how that is the reaction I got to amoxicillin (penicillin family) and his eyes got real big.  He said that was anaphylaxis and that I needed to add that class of antibiotics to the list of ones I couldn’t have.

When the 3 of us had said our goodbyes, we asked them to remove the ventilator.  They said we could have kept it in longer but we didn’t want William to suffer anymore and we knew there was no hope at all he would survive.  His lungs were hard and wouldn’t not inflate properly even though they were putting through pressures that were much higher than any newborn would get.  And his cord blood pH was so low that no baby ever survived it.  And the placenta was small with poor blood flow.

The neonatologist said he might live and gasp for a couple of hours, but he went in just 10 minutes.  Peacefully on my chest, in my arms.  He died with his little thumb in his mouth.  William died around 6:30am, after only 3 1/2 hours of life.

I held him for another hour or so.  My breathing improved and my blood pressure went down to insanely high but out of the danger zone (they’d cheer when it got down into the 170′s).  Michael held his body then and Claudette did briefly as well.  Miriam said goodbye but chose not to touch him.  Then they took him away and began the transfer to send me to my hospital room.

Although my doctors were still from Labor and Delivery, they put me one floor down, in Cardiac & Telemetry, in a private room.  Losing a baby is a rare occurrence in that hospital and they treated me with the utmost respect.  For my entire stay, every single person, from my nurses to the dietitian, was told what happened before meeting me.  Claudette had brought my birth plan (which had my chemical and medication restrictions listed) and my door sign, which they put up (asking perfumed people not to enter).  They also put a sign on the Purell dispenser outside my room asking people not to use before entering.

They took some care to get me unscented nurses though we had some laundry product issues.  Other staff with scent stayed away or worked with me by phone.  And the next morning Michael brought some safe liquid soap that staff used instead of the sink soap dispenser. With the door closed and the air conditioner on (the window didn’t open) my room wasn’t too bad.

I left for home Thursday late afternoon.  It’s been a difficult recovery, with lots of physical pain and a lot of work to find pain meds I tolerated that worked.  My blood pressure is still not normal but is mostly in the 140′s and 150′s now.  They gave me meds when it spiked to 161 and I spent the night feeling like half my head had been sawed off (this while being on heavy narcotics) so I know now that the recovery room migraine was caused by Labetalol (as opposed to any of the 100 other things it could have been caused by).  And I know I tolerate Toperol (anti-inflammatory) and Dilaudid (narcotic). My incision is healing well but I have welts and blisters and severe itching from the bandage adhesive.

My synagogue, Congregation Ner Shalom, was amazing and, between them and friends and family, I  had visitors and phone calls nearly around the clock, which comforted me to no end.  Being alone were the worst times, especially night and early morning. Although we had to delay the burial, we counted it as sitting Shiva.

As of Saturday afternoon.  I can get out of bed by myself (that feat took several days), use the computer, use the toilet, and stand for brief periods of time (a minute, maybe two).  I took a shower in the hospital which wiped me out and caused terrible pain.  I took one at home yesterday but needed much help with it.  Today I used a borrowed shower seat and was 95% independent.  I am eating and drinking normally.

We will meet with the neonatologist in a couple of weeks when all the test results are in.  They are waiting on some pathology slides and a chromosomal report.  But the diagnosis so far is pulmonary hypoplasia.  Or severe underdevelopment of the lungs, which were 1/10th the size they should have been.  This condition is usually secondary to other issues but, in this case, they think it is caused by a random genetic disorder, which also caused the other birth defects, and led to the failing placenta which led to my pre-eclampsia.  They say it is not related to my age or health but can happen to anyone, though it is rare.

The funeral was yesterday.  It was brutal but I needed to see him buried.  The cemetery is walking distance from our house with trees and grass.

That’s about all I have in me for now.  Thank you again to all who have visited, called, emailed, prayed, or otherwise supported us through this.  It means more than I can say.

William Gabriel Norwitz
Born and died September 28, 2009
10th of Tishrei, 5770

Goodbye my sweet boy.

©2012 Norwitz Notions. All Rights Reserved.

Miriam kisses her brother (22 weeks)

I had something similar during the second trimester when I was pregnant with Miriam, but this is worse.  And I’m well into the third trimester now.  Two huge increases/additions to my thyroid meds have helped, and so has being diligent about taking my supplements.  July was also a busy month, with preparations starting long before.  My brother Mike got married!  We took a trip to Los Angeles.  I helped plan the 2009 Festival of Fruit.  And California went through several heat waves.

Miriam as a flower girl at her Uncle Mike's wedding 7/19/09

So here I am, 31 weeks (7 months) into this pregnancy, and starting to feel a bit better.  Some news:  It’s a boy!!  We had an ultrasound at 20 weeks and the little sweetie was mooning us.  Even Miriam could tell his sex.  All the other measurements came out perfect too.

And, yes, we have a name picked out.  The first name comes from Michael’s family and the middle name/Hebrew name is just a name I’ve been drawn to for a long time, for unknown reasons.  We’ll announce them after he’s born.

So far, I’ve gained 20 lbs and have been craving fresh vegetables, fresh fruit, fish, and pickles (fermented/pickled anything really).  Miriam is still nursing, though usually not very much.  The house is a disaster because I haven’t been able to do any sorting and organizing like I was in the first trimester.  The plan is to get it all done before the birth (sure…).

Things are going well with our midwife and we’re still working towards a home birth with a hot tub in the living room.  I am getting backup care with the midwifery group that works at the hospital where Miriam was born.  And of course I’m getting endocrinological monitoring through-out.

Cyndi at 28 weeks

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I carry big and have looked seriously pregnant for a long time.  I look about 5 months now, not barely 3 months.  But I’m far enough along that I love it.  Aside from the obvious, that was my favorite thing about being pregnant last time: I actually look thinner.  I’m an “apple” so I have a ton of excess weight in my gut but, when I’m pregnant, it blends with the baby bump and all looks like part of the same thing.  I don’t look skinny or anything but I do look like I’ve dropped a couple of dress sizes.

Cyndi at 14 weeks

I chose a midwife and have seen her twice now as we plan for a home birth.  The only negative is she isn’t very scent-free, though she’s been trying.  I can’t be in her house at all because of new carpet and fragrances.  Fortunately, she lives in the same town as me and is willing to do the visits at my house, which I greatly appreciate.

She was here at 11 weeks and used the Doppler to try to hear the baby’s heartbeat and no luck.  But she heard “placental circulation” which was good enough for me.  Plus a couple days before that I saw my MD who did a quickie internal exam and said my uterus was big like it should be.

When the midwife was here last week (normally early visits are a month apart but we started late and she wanted to give me a chance early on to hear the heart) we did the Doppler again and got a heartbeat, which was really cool, though not a surprise   I got Michael on speaker phone and he was able to hear it too.

My uterus is measuring big (as it did a couple weeks ago).  About a centimeter higher than it “should” be.  With my last pregnancy I was carrying so big I was sure I must have twins but my uterus measurements were always dead on.  This time I’m even bigger (despite weighing slightly less) and my uterus is actually “too big.”  Coupled with the higher than average HCG doubling blood tests, the midwife confirmed my suspicion that this means an increased chance for twins.  I really had to push her though because she didn’t want to quantify it.  Finally I said, okay is my chance of having twins 25%, 50%, or 75%?  She said 25%.

This is my last pregnancy almost certainly so having twins would be great because it means I can have 3 kids.  But overall, neither Michael or I really want twins.  We have friends with them and, while they’re both amazing kids and they play with each other and all, we’ve seen first hand just how much work it is.  And they have 2 parents who work at home and no other child.  The very idea of twins freaks Michael out.  I would be okay either way I think but I’m still hoping for just one.  At least if it is twins I don’t have to worry about the birth.  My midwife will still do a home birth with twins, as long as they’re at least 36 weeks.  [As a side note, no you can't really tell from the heartbeat how many there are, not at this gestational age anyway.]

So far everything looks good.  I have a lot of sudden-onset bouts of tiredness, as well as milder longer ones, and haven’t been able to exercise for a while, but overall I’m decent (you know, the usual stuff).  My lower back and hips have been hating me for a while now and I have to be careful how I sleep.  I can’t be on my stomach anymore (I don’t sleep like that; I mean for anything) and being on my back is starting to get unpleasant (not from cutting off circulation, just uncomfortable).  Wish I could get weekly bodywork.

Miriam has just been thrilled and talks to the baby (“does it have ears yet?”) and kisses my belly regularly.  At 11 weeks, the midwife gave her a plastic doll that is the size and proportions of a 12 week fetus.  She played with it, pretending to carry it in her tummy.  I told her a bit what birth was like (contractions then pushing the baby out) and she loves to emulate the experience. I explained that the pushing was kind of like a difficult poop.  Michael chimed in with “but the poop is THIS BIG” and oh did Miriam’s eyes get wide.

She’s now decided she wants to be a midwife and she is going to deliver the baby herself (“me and you mommy”).  Though she agrees the actual midwife can be there too.  Michael said, you know, when the baby comes out it’s covered in blood and goo and stuff.  Miriam answered “that’s okay, I’ll wear short sleeves.”  She’s also requested birth videos.  The ones the midwife lent us either didn’t show the birth (personal DVD) or were scratched.  So we’ll be looking around (can’t do online video well on this computer).

It’s going to be an interesting ride…

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Some of her pictures are quite good and a few are pretty amazing.  Though for every good one, there are 50 shots of her toes, the floor, or somebody’s butt (one of her photographic obsessions…the other one being taking awkwardly posed pictures of herself that I delete directly from the camera, lest we get arrested).

None of the photos below are edited in any way.  I often crop, adjust lighting, remove red eye, and so forth for blog pictures, but not here.  Miriam is 3 years and 9 months old.  She’ll turn 4 at the end of February.

Being smaller is sometimes an advantage.  The unusual angle makes the picture. Compare this picture of Michael cutting pumpkins to the cropped and lightened version I used in the blog entry for pumpkin puree.

Michael cutting pumpkins

Miriam colored the book with chalk then composed a picture documenting it.

Miriam's aunt Connie holding a Clifford the Big Red Dog coloring

This isn’t the prettiest shot but Miriam loves her computer pictures.  And it’s one of the few photos of me that isn’t awful.

Cyndi at the computer

The cats are some of Miriam’s favorite subjects.

Hope waiting for the door to open

Miriam and her cousin Jaiden took about 100 shots with my camera the day after Thanksgiving.  This is Miriam’s best.

Cousin Jaiden

Household objects are a common theme.  My parents brought this ceramic lion home after a trip to Europe in the 1960′s.

Lion face

This styrofoam box has been colored, pitted, used as a hat, and, of course, filled with rocks.

Rocks and rubber band in a styrofoam box

One in a long series of Melanie photos (she being the most patient of the kitties).

Melanie on the couch

This is my favorite of all of Miriam’s photos.

Closeup of Melanie

Turning the camera in on herself.

Miriam self portrait

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Being a green mom I’m opposed to 1) spending lots of money on something meant to be used once and 2) buying new plastic/vinyl.  Being someone with multiple chemical sensitivities though, I’m not able to just pop into Goodwill and look for used costumes.  I didn’t want to take the time to make something either.

I found a used Superman costume on Craigslist from someone who said there was no fabric softener.  I didn’t notice a scent on it when I bought it (but then I didn’t notice the rip in the seam either) but it came out after being washed.  Miriam said it itched and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.  But it turns out she was okay if she wore clothes underneath it (which was a good idea anyway because it was cold out).  I just washed my hands after every time I touched it and had her change immediately upon coming home.

Miriam & Michael fly off to Halloween storytime at the library

Last year, her first time trick-or-treating, we found exactly one item in her bag that she wasn’t overtly allergic to and let her eat it.  She bounced off the walls for a while then gladly agreed to trade in the rest for daddy to take to work and she got to pick out a toy from a local store.

This year they went trick or treating in a more popular area so the treats were smaller.  This meant far less chocolate, her biggest allergen.  About 2/3 of the candy was chocolate, orange, or something else she reacted to (like the treat from last year, which has dairy) and it went into daddy’s bag (traces of dairy or gluten aren’t problems for her and she can eat each of those as treats once in a while, but egg, chocolate, and orange are not okay ever).

I snagged the one good thing in what was left for myself (peanut butter taffy, yum!) and she had a taste of it.  Then she got to pick one candy for herself with the caveat that we didn’t know what might have orange so she was taking a risk that she might pee her pants.  She had a sour cherry lollipop (the round junky kind with a chewy center, which made for some amusing expressions as she’s had almost no candy in her life…she now says she wants to give away all the chewy candy).  She did some bouncing around and we explained that it was the sugar (actually, it was probably mostly the artificial crap).

She is keeping crayons and a tiny joke/coloring book she received. We did take away a smartie necklace she was wearing because it was orange colored and smelled like orange.  She willingly gave it up when I told her that.  We went and washed hands and neck but she’d been wearing it for a while and did end up having to pee in the middle of the night, though no accidents.

The deal is, and she’s totally cool with it, is that she will get a toy (she was okay with my picking one out and not telling her in advance…anyone know a cheap source of a real working stethoscope?  I’ve been wanting an excuse to get her one for ages) in exchange for the candy in daddy’s bag.  As for the rest of the candy, she can keep it or exchange it for the Yummy Earth lollipops I bought her (two flavors I know are orange/grapefruit/tangerine-free…I can’t buy from the bulk bin, only separately wrapped bags of single flavors) or for another toy.  So far, she’s opted to have a Yummy Earth treat each night.

I am really happy that we could encourage her to trick-or-treat with abandon and not worry about what she was getting.  That would ruin the fun.  She still gets her treats (edible and otherwise) and she had a blast Halloween night despite the drizzle.

I stayed home…I can’t risk the cigarettes and pesticides I’m sure to encounter.  And I already had a headache.  Maybe next year I’ll go with my gas mask on and let people decide if it’s a costume.  I hate missing so much of the fun stuff in her life, but I’m grateful that, so far, she’s able to participate in them herself.

Halloween day, Michael’s office had a Survivor (TV show) dress-up theme, complete with an eat-gross-things contest.  His special treat was deep-fried crickets (“but, Cyndi, they’re not traife”).  Oh, and a big bag of chocolate.

Miriam & Michael prepare to go trick-or-treating

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She turned to me and asked: “Is it in season?”

Oh man I love that girl. I’ve been teaching her about produce being in or out of season and have told her that we couldn’t have the things she wanted much of the time due to that (price, quality, etc). I guess it’s rubbing off.

Yes, we bought the watermelon (she had some for her actual birthday dinner too). Local, organic, and in season are all important but we make some exceptions.

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But one item I know she wanted is a piano. She refers to grandma’s and grandpa’s (my parents) place as “the house with the piano” and pianos are the first thing she gravitates to if one is available. She played a cheap electronic one as an infant, until it broke. I was going to set up my electric one but I can’t find it…I know exactly where it was in the garage, but I suspect it was stolen.

Every so often, someone will post to Freecycle to give away a piano. I usually write in to ask for it, but it’s one of those things that goes fast…within minutes. So when I saw a Kimball Spinet (a good solid brand in the size I wanted…small) listed right here in town, I wrote but didn’t expect anything. But I got it! We picked it up today. And it’s gorgeous.

I paid two friends to move it for me but, other than that, it was free (I thought I’d need to tune it but it seems okay, say two musicians who came to check it out). I really wanted a real piano, not an electric, but the real ones are out of my financial reach. So this is amazing.

I’ve always thought that Miriam had musical skills (as an infant she’d pick at the little electric piano with one finger of her right hand, while banging with the entire left hand and singing) and she seems pretty determined when she plays now, but of course that’s a mom’s view. But several other people have said it too and asked if there is piano in her blood. Why, yes, there is…that would be my paternal grandmother, Miriam’s great-grandma Miriam (of course).

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We sanded the bubbly spots, washed off the dust, and re-varnished. It came out pretty good, as you can see. A few hours of ozone this morning then we put it all together. And now Miriam has a bed. All she needs is a mattress (we have a piece of foam, but it’s too narrow, too long, and too toxic).

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She can on occasion read the word when we write it out or see it somewhere, but she generally has to be reminded to say the letters, then she recognizes it.

Miriam loves to “write” and will scribble happily and tell you it’s a certain word (or picture) and she enjoys her refrigerator magnet letters and will arrange them randomly and say they have particular meanings.

But today she said she was going to write the word “off” and then she did it! I didn’t help at all and it was her idea, not mine. The letters were all over the place and she moved them up out of the way and brought down the ones she wanted. Never mind that it’s backwards (she couldn’t understand why I said it was “F F O”), it’s a word I tell you!

And here’s a bonus picture from a couple days ago. I couldn’t resist!

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I got a wooden bed frame with drawers from Freecycle December 9 to use for Miriam. It is quite old and solid wood with some plywood. It was pretty filthy, since it was sitting in a walled-in porch for years. I spent a couple hours yesterday scrubbing it all down. When it was wet, it had a slight smell that was like stale cigarette smoke. I didn’t get sick really but it was unpleasant and seemed toxic. The person I got it from doesn’t use pesticides or air freshener but he had used mothballs in the drawers many years ago (not since) and I’m guessing it was exposed to smoke, though I didn’t ask. I remembered that, back 5 years ago when I bought my floor varnish from AFM, I also got a gallon of Acrylacq which is similar but made for furniture and for sealing. There it was in my garage, unopened with a rusty top.

So I opened it. It was not only still good but it hadn’t even separated. Since I had all the pieces of the bed sitting on cardboard/newspaper in my driveway, dry and clean, I decided to go ahead and “paint” them.

There was very little smell and, despite using it for 1.5 hours, I didn’t really react (very slight background headache). The stuff is like a thick watered down milky (whitish color) but goes on easy, even though much of the wood was on the rough side.

You have to wait 4 hours inbetween coats, and they recommend 2-3 coats. I did the inside and outside of all 3 drawers, except for the fronts, and the front and sides of the bed, the part of the bed where the mattress goes, and one side of the footboard and headboard.

When Michael came home a few hours later, I asked him to put a second coat on the inside of the drawers, the part of the bed where the mattress goes, and the front side of the bed (drawer surround). And to do the other side of the head/foot boards and the front of the drawers.

I think some of it will be okay with one coat and the rest with two. We’ll take a better look at it tomorrow and decide if anything needs an extra coat. Michael had some leftover sealer so he also did our junky wood coffee table.

And, as a special bonus, I lightly sanded the top of my dryer where the cat pee had rusted it out, and applied a coat of sealer to that.

The sealer dries clear but with a yellow tint. I only noticed this on my white dryer. On the wood it is invisible. The wood is darker where sealed, though that may disappear as it cures. I consider that a plus as I like the look and it helped to hide color imperfections.

This is an experiment. So far I really love the stuff but I need to see how it wears. If it peels off or cracks badly, that will be a problem. I was thrilled with how low-toxic it was.

I’ll give it a month or more. If it still looks good, I’ll start covering more wood items in my house. It works on metal too so I might tackle some of those as well.

(The bedframe looks pretty good. Nice even color with a good sheen. The headboard, footboard, and one drawer are not yet installed. And you can see peeling varnish on the drawer to the left.)

Later that evening:

I am quite pleased with it. I can smell it some though. We just moved the bed in from outside because we’re afraid it will rain and we’ve been getting a lot of dew in the morning and some frost too. Miriam’s room is also the computer room, though that will change at some point (she LOVES having her own bed and swears up and down that she’s going to sleep in it, but we’ll see

So far, it’s stayed dark and even. Looks really really good.

EXCEPT…

When I varnished, it was 48 degrees outside (sensor in the shade but I was in the sun, so I am pretty sure it was warmer) and sunny and early afternoon. When Michael did it, it was an hour or so before sundown and a bit cooler and the driveway was in the shade.

Everything I varnished that we left one coat on looks fabulous.
Everything I varnished that Michael added a coat to looks fabulous.
BUT…most everything he did the first coat on is peeling (white when separated from the wood).

That is a disappointment. I am guessing that it was just too cold and damp for a good cure. And I hope that a light sanding and revarnishing on a sunny day will fix it. Fortunately, the bed frame itself came out perfect, because that one is a PITA to move outside. The peeling parts are the bottoms of the fronts of 2 (of 3) drawers (very easy to move and carry) and the backsides of the headboard and footboard, so we can’t bolt them in quite yet.

When we first went to pick up this free bed, my heart sank as I looked at a worn out piece of sh*t. But the cleaning and varnishing has made a huge difference. It doesn’t look new, but new wasn’t what I was after. It looks nice, at least if you don’t look at the peeling parts.

Now we just need a mattress for it!

(The drawers came out well. Only the fronts (varnished late in the day) are peeling. I wanted the insides sealed because of the lingering odor…which seems to be gone.)

Update Dec 18:

After bringing it inside, I realized that the smell was soon overpowering. We ozoned that room overnight and it made a big difference, though there has been some lingering smell for the week. It’s mostly gone now.

It’s been raining nearly every day since I wrote the Dec 12 entries. I was hoping to post this when everything was finished, but that might be a while. My hope is that if I lightly sand away the peeling bits and reappy the varnish, that it will look as nice as the parts we did in the sun do. I not only need dry days and nights but a nice sunny day so the first few hours of the cure occur in perfect conditions.

I’ll post again when I’ve tried this out.

(These are the pieces that could be better. The sides and inside of the drawer, and the flip sides of the head and foot boards are all perfect. The white peeling bits are the sides that got their first (only) coats of varnish late in the day. Everything that was varnished in the early afternoon looks great, even those with a second coat added later. These pieces are sitting on the junky coffee table I mentioned above. Doesn’t look so bad now. It came out well even though it had a first coat late.)

Update February 10, 2008:

Go to Miriam’s New Bed – Part II

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