Baby Blanket Tutorial

*another repost of a tutorial I did over the summer.  This is one of my absolute favorite baby blankets ever!*

Thank you Erin for having me here today!  It's fun to know there are fellow mamas who don't find out the gender of their baby :)

I haven't done near the amount of sewing for this baby that I thought I would.  In fact, I haven't done any.  Part of it is that we aren't finding out what we're having, and part of it is that with baby number six, there are only a few things I consider essential: diapers, onesies, and blankets.  I've gone through my fair share of blankets and I definitely have my favorite: the knit blanket.  I love how I can swaddle my babies, stretching the knit blankets tightly those first few months.  Many of mine are pink, or other girly colors, so I decided to make a gender neutral blanket...just in case ;)

 You will need two pieces of knit.  Wash them twice in hot water to make sure any shrinkage that is going to happen happens before you sew.  Cut them out together 36" x 33", smoothing out any wrinkles.  Round each corner using a small glass.  Pin the layers so they don't shift as you sew.

 Using either knit, cut a binding strip 4 times the width you want the finished band to be (2" if you want 1/2" binding) and the length 140" (a little less than 4 yards).  You might have to piece your binding, just press your seams open.

 Pin binding around blanket, leaving 2" on each side at the ends, making sure the binding fits.  Sew the ends together so they lay flat when pinned with blanket.  Press open seam allowance and sew around perimeter the width you want your binding (1/2" seam allowance if you want your finished binding to be 1/2").

 Stitch with a slight zig-zag stitch, so increase your width to about a 1.  This will keep the stretch in your fabric.

 Trim your corners down slightly, just 1/8" or 1/4".  Fold the edge of the binding in 1/2" and then over the edge of the blanket.

 Pin in place and stitch using a double needle.

 My striped knit turned out to be too thick, so I just folded the edge over instead of folding the band in again, which you can do with fabric that won't fray if you don't mind a more casual finish.

If you are unsure of how to use a double needle, I talk about it more in depth here.

Okay.  I think I am getting closer to feeling ready for this baby to come :)

Announcing....

Yes! HE has a name.  

Drummer Zion Dill.  

We simply can't have any more children for the naming factor alone, but we finally agreed on this one and we are both pleased, plus our marriage is still in tact ;)  I wanted a name that had to do with the nativity.  We bounced around a few ideas, and then Ryan said, How about Drummer?  At first I vetoed it, but then it grew on me and I fell in love with it almost as much as this boy.  The beloved Christmas song, The Little Drummer Boy, is about a boy who is summoned by the Magi to see the Christ child.  The boy wants to bring the newborn babe a gift, but has nothing of monetary value, so he brings himself and his simple talent of playing his drum.  He goes before the Christ Child and "plays his best for Him" and the baby smiles at him.  Zion refers to "being of one heart" with the commitment to giving one's will to God.

One month old Drummer.

The girls love his name and were so excited to tell everyone at school.  Except for Clover.  She wants to name him Shiny.  We told her she was welcome to call him that.

Close-ups

baby boy bedhead

It's been a long week.  Like those extra long hotdogs that hang out either side of the bun.  The normal ratio of week to weekend is off.  Too much of either throws me off.

Without going into too much gory detail (although that's the detail that our dill girls seem to enjoy the most), by Wednesday I had convinced myself that I needed a D&C.  I tried to get into my regular obgyn but they couldn't squeeze me in, and that's when we wonder what good is having a doctor that you can't even see, especially for emergencies.

So Ryan, this baby boy dill, and I headed to the hospital to spend some quality (and quantity) time with the good folk of the emergency room.  After a bit of invasiveness, it was concluded that I didn't need a D&C and that I had a hormonal imbalance, remedied by a couple week's worth of little white pills.  

I felt relieved and grateful to finally know what was wrong and to get on the recovery boat.  The scenery is much more enjoyable than the uncertain boat.

I feel much more myself.  I even cleaned the kitchen.  How I like it cleaned.  Then, tonight, our kids' teachers brought us dinner.  Olive: I don't know if I should say this, but dinner was better than what you guys make.  It certainly was, because it not only brought culinary satisfaction (homemade chicken pot pie, egg bread, and raisin oatmeal cookies) but it was given with love and prayers.  I think they got concerned when we sent Azure to school without lunch or the plan to buy.

A big adjustment, this time around.  I think we've decided on a first name and getting close on the middle name.  It's just a good thing we don't have to choose a last name.

Lifting Spatulas

This kid is a fantastic nurser.  

He fills his diapers beautifully.  

He squawks like a pterodactyl  

and burps like a pro. 

first bath

I am slowly picking up the pieces of normalcy around here--picking them up and weakly trying to figure out where they fit, because the Whole Picture has changed.  I sat on the couch the other day, feeding this boy with the rest of the kids freshly home from school ( = chaos and general inability to stop bouncing off the walls) and thought to myself, there are a lot of kids in here....and they're all mine.  I felt overwhelmed in that moment and wondered what.have. we.done.   

There are debates about who gets to hold him next and for how long.  I must admit I like that I have first dibs, seeing how I'm his source of food and all.  Everything I eat Azure will comment on: You need to eat lots of popcorn so you can make more milk, right?  Exacaaactly.  I've been instructed by my midwife not to lift anything heavier than a spatula, (because, apparently 6 babies puts mileage on one's body odometer) but then we laughed about the absurdity of that request and settled on anything heavier than this boy.  Does that mean the laundry? ;)  I walk by my sewing studio with a bit of yearning in my eyes, but then pick up this bundle and remember that he is already growing way too quickly and to let him sleep on my chest if that's how he sleeps best, and to pick him up the moment he makes a squeak, because he's so easily consoled that I just can't resist and to Enjoy this time.  I went through the girl baby clothes that are too small for Clover to give away and was rather melancholy about the fact that there won't be another baby dill to fill them, holding them up, remembering when and from whom we received them or the occasion for which I made them.  I've taken for granted the fact that there has always been another little body on which to see my creations pop up again and again.  

That's when the advice from strangers about "enjoying this time while they're little, because they grow up too fast" smacked me across the face.  Yes, we have our hands full.  Yes, we are starting to realize just how much our offspring consume and how they all have opinions about everything, voicing them right in your ear sometimes, but seeing the tangible evidence of onesies that once fit our ten-year-old helps put things into perspective.  I smile as I fold the freshly laundered itty bitty (BOY!) clothes, look forward to the moment he wakes from a nap, and enjoy talking to his attentive little face as I change each diaper.  And there are a lot of them.

What.

We can't call him baby forever? 

He doesn't seem to mind.

And We Became Eight

I had a look at these photos for the first time just two days ago.  The birth is still so fresh, but simultaneously seems distant and dream-like already.  It was hard.  All natural labors are hard, but this little one did not want to rush.  It puts a smile on my lips to think how content baby dill was inside.

3:45 am.  My water broke, or rather sprung a very small leak.  I got up to see if it was real, if this was truly happening.  I awoke Ryan and my contractions began, about 8 minutes apart.  I called the midwife to let her know and she said to call her again when the contractions were 5-6 minutes apart.  Ryan sat down and began to fold laundry.  It was just half an hour later that we called her again and she instructed us to head to the birthing center.

Some dear, kind, sweet friends came over to be with our 5 slumbering girls as we headed out the door.  

Once we got to the birthing center there wasn't much progress for a couple of hours.  The midwife suggested I walk around, so Ryan and I walked down into a residential neighborhood that had houses tucked away amid an array of greenery.  The morning was just awakening and there was even a hint of coolness to the air.  We walked and walked, anticipating this new little life, just the two of us.  We talked and laughed how this little soul just didn't want to come.  It was beautiful.

I still wasn't more than 5 cm dilated, so the midwife broke the fore sack of water in hopes to help things progress.

That's how Clover was born so quickly, as soon as that water was gone, she came rushing out.  Progress of any kind, however still wasn't happening.  We would later find out why.  Ryan and I went out for more walking.

Finally around 10:30 the contractions began increasing in strength.  I slipped into the water and joked that this baby just might wait until 12 to add to the numerical convenience of the day: 9-10-11.

With each contraction I focused on the progress being made so I could finally meet this stubborn little dill. 

I have never had to push so hard in the history of all my labors.  This little one had a fist up by the cheek and was trying to come out without moving it.

There was a gasp as she brought a 9lb 1oz baby out of the water and onto my chest, a few minutes after 12 noon.  I simply held that body tight for a few moments, reveling in the absolute miracle all this, all the pain and waiting and mess, until I was ready to find out if this was our boy or our half dozen girls.

I took a peek and announced to Ryan, We have our boy!  He made me check again, so I showed him the proof.

Shocked? Surprised? Most definitely ecstatic.

We had our boy.

With five older sisters, this boy will be well nurtured.

Clover is coming around.

This mama's body is still recovering and very tired, but enjoying the snuggles and squirms of

her BOY!

the little famous hand

All photos taken by Taylor DeMaio

Two Striped Baldies

My in-house help is gone.  Sigh.  My dad finally came and rescued my mom who may or may not tell you she's weary or that these five monkeys are more than a handful.  We will miss her culinary concoctions each evening and her constant laundry folding, but she missed her best friend and he, her.  As for the other striped baldy, no name yet, but the birth story is coming along.

The Reactions Five

When we brought this sweet boy home the girls couldn't wait to find out if they had another sister or if it was their luck that a brother had been delivered.

 First we made them take turns telling us who they suspected was in Ryan's arms.

 They all guessed a brother except Clover.  How Clover wanted a baby sister.  Named Bumblebee.

 So we finally told them they finally had a baby brother.

 Divine's face tells it all.

 They were all absolutely thrilled.

Except poor Clover.  She was devastated.  She wanted me to put him back in my tummy.  She still won't have anything to do with him.  I have suspicions, though, that they'll be fast friends when he gets older.

 Good thing the majority of the dill girlies are ecstatic.