Wow, no time to post anything. and when i am online and i'm able to access my blog, i'm far more interested in keeping up with bloggy friends and so i forget to update my own situation!
I don't know what to say, really. I still want to write about the first week of this child's existence in my life. It felt floaty, surreal, dreamlike. But i have yet to do so. Life is different now and the nature of time has changed.
In some ways time has stretched out so that the day seems to take twice as long to occur, especially when when the Ninja says a vehement NO to letting me do such things as flossing teeth, taking out contact lenses, etc.
In other ways, though, each moment is going by faster then I can tally, such as the beautiful times like this morning, when I watched her for four hours as she, sound asleep, squirmed and wiggled and stretched on our bed. Then, having finally worked out the kinks, she turned her head to me - all flushed cheeks and eyes as round as pennies - and smiled, "I'm awake!"
I'm still here!
Sitting at the library - of course - and enjoying the Ninja's first mommy-baby field trip. (If I want her to be a nerd like me, we have to start early. lol)
So much to catch up on. New motherhood is the most exhilarating, lonely, joyful, and overwhelming thing I've ever experienced. DH is away up north - although we did get 10 sacred days together - and so I'm recovering from c-section and caring for my little girl. She's a happy baby but it's a big job to be a single parent.
Thank you so much for all the congratulations and words of wisdom. I'll be back soon.
After long years of waiting, my baby is here. She's lying half-asleep in my sister-in-law's arms.
I can’t post her name or birth date for privacy reasons. But I can assure you that she is the cutest baby ever. I think she has DH's lips and nose and hair but most people say she looks like my brother and me. She doesn’t really look like she did on the ultrasound pic – her nose and lips are smaller than what was portrayed on the photo.
I went into labour at 8:30 the night before and got NO breaks between contractions. I'd gotten my first internal check that morning - I was desperate to get things going because DH has to go up north - and baby was still head-down, as she had been for 2 months. Her hand was actually on top of her head - her fingers were wiggling around - and so the midwife wrestled with her to move her arm down. It was so weird - she said she'd never had a baby do that before! We talked about induction; I was going to try natural methods that day (evening primrose oil, red raspberry leaf tea, and use of my breast pump) and midwife was going to send a memo to the doctors in the area to ask if anyone would consider inducing me.
Labour started that night and it felt nothing like what people had told me to expect. From the start, hard contractions came one after another and I thought I was going to die. My midwife and doula arrived and I tried different comfort measures but nothing helped: sitting, lying down, being touched, everything made things worse. I wouldn't let the midwife do an internal check because it made the contractions even more horrible.
Finally I said we had to go to the hospital - something didn't feel right. They all managed to get me sprawled into the doula's van and we drove to the hospital.
There we had the bossiest doctor and nurses ever - they wanted me to lie down and I ignored them - I thought that was the worst idea I'd ever heard. I did manage to get myself into a position to allow my midwife to check the baby. She gave me an alarmed look and asked if the baby had had any sudden big movement that day. I said no. She said, "Well, I feel a foot."
"Oh, no," I thought. I knew that meant a c-section. (My hospital won't allow vaginal delivery of a breech baby.)
They brought in a doctor to confirm the position. He was in surgery already and so his mind was elsewhere. He said he thought the baby was breech. DH demanded to know if that's what he THOUGHT or what he KNEW. I was thinking - are you kidding me? Trust the midwife - she knows what she's doing! But an ultrasound machine was brought in and confirmed that baby had flipped head-up.
DH asked for a different doctor to do the actual surgery. Another doctor was in the building but he refused at first because he was at the end of his shift. He heard me groaning that I was pushing and couldn't stop it, though, and he changed his mind. He told me that it was going to be a 90-minute wait, though, for the operating theatre because another surgery was going on and the anesthetist was busy.
The option to go to another city to try a vaginal delivery was brought up but that wasn't going to happen - baby was coming at her own furious pace. I couldn't believe I was going to have to wait and I thought to myself, "They don't realize that she'll be out shortly on her own!"
The nurses gave me Fentanyl and laughing gas which didn't do much but it was better than nothing!
I don't know what happened then but 45 minutes later we were in a hospital hallway and the surgeon was explaining the protocol to me. He kept stopping and waiting politely through my contractions; I was so desperate to get going that I said to him, "Don't stop, keep talking, I can hear you!"
They rolled me into the operating room and gave me the epidural. Ah, sweet relief. I immediately offered to have the anesthetist's babies (and then I retracted that statement because it meant more situations like this one!). Haha.
DH got a warning from the doctor not to faint and to leave the room immediately if ordered to do so. And then the operation started. Time was all warped. DH watched a lot of the operation which surprised me because he swore all along that he wanted nothing to do with the birth.
Finally the baby came out - after the medical team wrestled with her because she was firmly wedged into my birth canal - and she was free.
DH looked quickly and said to me, "We were right - a boy!"
"Oh, good," I replied.
Then he furrowed his brows and said, "I think I looked too fast."
He went over and came back and said, “It's a girl!"
I replied, "No way, you're joking."
"No," he replied, "it's a girl!"
"Aw, I have a daughter," I said. I was so surprised!
Someone asked if she had a name. DH and I looked at each other. Um, no, not really. We were convinced that she was a boy! The week before, as a joke, we had come up with a girl’s name. We did both agree on the first name but we were stuck on a middle name. I said, “Well, what about the middle name we had picked for a boy? – why can’t a girl have that name, too?” (It’s sort of a unisex name that we made up.) DH said sure. And that was that. We laughed and forgot about it; after all, we were having a boy. And so, in the delivery room, I looked at DH and said, “Well, what about the names we talked about last week? I’m ok with it if you are.” DH agreed. We laughed and announced her name to the world.
The baby was content and alert from the start - my midwife said that the drugs were administered so late that they didn’t have much time to affect her. I wish I could have had her on my chest sooner but I guess they have their rules about how things have to be done. It's sure different than midwifery care. Anyway, they cleaned her up, did her Apgar test, etc., and then my midwife held her next to my head so that DH and I could get to know her. I couldn't even touch her at first because the scene was surreal.
I was wheeled into recovery and DH, my midwife, my doula, and my baby went elsewhere. I didn't really like that but what could I do? After a while - maybe 45 minutes - they all joined me. I got to hold my daughter for the first time.
I had been nervous about breastfeeding but the babe figured that all out on her own: I just looked down and there she was, eating away! lol
DH and I were up most of the night just looking at her. I don't remember much of it.
Stayed in the hospital for 4 days. C-sections are brutal, for sure. I was in so much pain. (I just figured out yesterday how to get out of bed on my own.) I had to have x-rays the next day because a tip of the forceps was missing and they thought it might have been left in my abdomen - hurray. But everything was fine.
The Ninja is healthy and happy. Doesn't fuss, really, unless something is wrong, although she is often restless at night which does drive me bonkers. DH is completely besotted with her.
So much for having a home birth. The midwife said to me that if the baby hadn't been breech, she would've arrived in a few hours and no one would've had time to get to my house to assist. Yikes! And she said that I can expect future births to progress in a similar fashion, if not faster.
That’s my story. I'll post pics as soon as I upload them from my camera.
I’m getting tired of our families e-mailing, phoning, and texting us to see if the baby is here yet. Right, because I gave birth and forgot to tell anyone? I sound mean, I know – they’re all just excited for us – but I feel very private about this experience (ironic, considering that I’m writing about this topic on a public blog … ) and I will not, as one of my nieces did, announce on FB that my water has just broken.
My parents texted yesterday to ask if my contractions had started. I gave a smart remark for an answer. Not content with that, my mom phoned this morning to ask again. I skirted the subject. We are in the hub of the area where our family lives and they all know we’re aiming for a home birth and so – well, you can imagine the nosiness. Plus the people in my culture are nosy, anyway. They will have to wait until we have news to share. I have asked my midwives and my doula to park their vehicles down the street so that no one who drives past our house will realize that I have ‘company.’
Other people are texting us, as well, and we’re ignoring the messages. Otherwise, when I really am in labour and we stop answering texts, people will figure things out right away. We don’t want them to. And so we’re already disregarding messages. It’s such a game. All I want is some privacy – to hopefully have a momentous home birth for which we’ve waited years and years – and then I’ll be okay.
But DH is thinking that, when Ninja arrives, we really won’t tell anyone for the first few days. We want to relax, get used to things, establish breastfeeding, and hang out together for 2 days before he has to go out of town. I’m all for that.
I haven’t been able to get a hold of my midwife to ask her about natural labour induction – we keep missing each other on the phone – and so I sit here, waiting, hoping that my husband will be around to witness the first few days or weeks of our baby’s life.
40 weeks. I never thought I’d get to this point. And here I am.
My first official day of maternity leave. In Canada most of us are entitled to 50 weeks of unemployment benefits for mat leave (plus a 2 week waiting period). I probably should have chilled on the couch but I didn’t. I cooked more freezer meals, cleaned, ran errands, etc. Cried once because I am so lucky.
I can’t believe I worked right up to my due date. Most people I know take off from work at least 1 week to a month ahead of time. I liked my job, though, and … well … that’s just the way I am. I have had an unbelievably easy pregnancy, as well, which helped. If I’d had morning sickness and uncontrolled edema and a sore back, I would’ve considered leaving earlier. But I didn’t. It was all good.
DH has managed to prolong his job by another week. But this means that if Ninja is 2 weeks overdue that DH might not be able to come home at all until the job is finished. It all stresses me out too much to even explain the situation here. I’ve got castor oil to try getting baby out but I don’t want to use it without consulting first with my midwife. So DH and I did the deed – fantastic, by the way! – but it didn’t get anything started.
Come on, Ninja, bust a move already!
Slept all night. We intended to drive to a bigger city yesterday – I wanted to buy some nursing tops and to visit with some of our friends – but other plans came up. House renos, etc. It was good that we didn’t go because I absolutely crashed. I stayed on a mattress on the living room floor and didn’t move until the evening. Then went to see Sherlock Holmes and fell asleep there, too! And then slept all night!
Today I feel great. Went to the city and hung out – that was fun. Last time we’ll do that for a while!
No luck with nursing tops, though. I always wondered why pregnant women and new moms look so frumpy. No, it’s not because they’ve lost their sense of fashion. It’s because companies making pre- and post-natal clothes have NO IDEA what is both stylish and functional. All the shirts scream is, “Hello, I have udders! And I can expose them in a flash!” I shall figure out something else to do.
We may have picked a girl’s name. It happened very casually. I wish I could share it here but it’s too distinctive. All I can say is that anyone who knows my DH will laugh when they hear the name. That is, if it’s a girl – which we doubt!
Slept for half an hour last night. I guffaw in the faces of those who say smugly “just you wait” about the upcoming sleepless nights. How could I get less sleep than what I have been getting?
Last day of work. I seriously had to think about whether or not to go in to school. Baby’s head is pushing down and I had what I believe were contractions for an hour before I left for work. Because I am too dedicated, I went in anyway. Yes, I’m insane. I deserved to have my water break, most embarrassingly, all over the floor in front of my students.
I was fine, though. Somehow this week I have managed to get exams marked (they were pretty great, if I do say so myself!) and the report cards mostly done. I stayed at work almost every evening for 2 weeks to get it all finished. I’m so relieved.
Stuff with the parent blew up in my face. The things she said are so ridiculous – they constitute harassment, honestly – and they’re going to bother me forever. Thank goodness I have loads of documentation and evidence to prove her otherwise. Thank goodness for my dad, who has taught this student’s sibling and who told me from experience that this parent was a nut job. And thank goodness I have a great principal who has my back.
I took today off, anyway. Partly a mental day but mostly because I feel like crap. First official day of being ‘uncomfortable.’ Baby dropped overnight – now I’ve got a funny flat spot on the bottom of my drooping belly - and I think I’m having contractions. I don’t know. My uterus is pulling tight but it doesn’t hurt. My ute has done this all along – it starts to feel tight and as though the barometric pressure is changing – but I always thought it was the baby moving in an odd way. Now I realize it’s not him – I think it’s contractions.
I feel lousy. Every part of me feels arthritic. Except for my back which is still fine. Isn’t that bizarre, considering my chronic back problems? Feet and legs are humungous and I have carpal tunnel in my hands. And diarrhea (which I hear is a good sign). And I pee 19 times/day.
But all I can think about is when I’ll get report cards done. People are giving me pitying looks re: my hugely pregnant state but I can’t think about my ailments – I’m far more concerned about my job. I don’t feel worried or distressed about my physical status. No matter what, it’s not nearly as bad as what people said it would be. Really. Am I saying this because of the lingering infertile state of mind (“oh, I can’t complain about any aspect of finally being pregnant”) or is it just my personality? Or both? Or is it all just really not that bad?
My poor babe. I was so stressed out at school yesterday I forgot until 3 p.m. to drink water. I’m being a terrible mother. Tomorrow is my last day at work and so then hopefully I’ll be able to chill a bit.
I need to start maternity leave (we get a year's worth in Canada, as long as you meet the criteria). There’s so much garbage happening with a parent of one of my students. I know the stress isn’t good for the baby or for me. Just gotta keep trucking until the end of the week.
Anyway, in fun baby news, last night the babe kicked me so soundly that I woke up. First time he’s done that. His movements, so far, haven’t been enough to hurt or wake me. Plus his sleep schedule seems to be linked to mine and so his busiest times are when I’m wide awake. That’s more than fine with me; I hope it stays that way! He’s so lazy in the mornings, it’s funny. He stretches a bit when I get up and then he is catatonic until around 11 a.m. DH, the perpetual early bird, said about that (grumpily): “He’s just like his mother.”
My breast pump arrived in the mail. Ameda’s Purely Yours. I got a great Ebay deal on a new one.
I really want this bf’ing thing to work out and so I’m setting myself up for success, hopefully. I’ve read books, asked other moms for advice, bought good nursing bras and easy-access tops, bought mother’s milk tea and Guiness beer, etc.
I have PCOS, a metabolic disorder, and although I’ve kept it controlled for the last 5 or 6 years, I have no idea how the sudden crash of hormones after delivery will affect me. Will the PCOS pick up again? If so, it could affect my supply. That worries me. (What works for me to control PCOS is diet and exercise and so I have a freezer full of healthy meals and I have a plan to hit the gym ASAP as soon as I’m cleared to work out.) My midwife says I’m supposed to call her at any time that bf’ing isn’t working and if necessary she will stay at my house until it does work. Isn’t she fabulous?
Also, I can’t remember if I’ve blogged about this before but bf’ing makes me nervous in general. I was not breastfed – it wasn’t fashionable then – and until I was nearly 20 years old all I saw were formula-fed babies. And so bf’ing doesn’t, as odd as this sounds, seem natural to me.
DH, on the other hand, grew up with bf’ing as the only thing to do. He thinks I’m odd for worrying about it. I’m glad – he’ll be my cheerleader.
I suspect that, as soon as baby and I learn what to do, that bf’ing will be easier than I expected but until then I am not taking anything for granted.
DH has to leave on the 20th for work – for 2 straight weeks. I’m due on the 18th. This is getting crazy. How will this work?
My midwife says that, if I do go nuts with the baby and DH isn’t here, she will just move in with me until DH returns. I can’t say enough good things about her.
I am going to be somebody’s mother.
No, I am already somebody’s mother. I take care of this little guy. For years, I missed him. I changed my life for him – just to get him in it. I quit my job and sold my house and moved for him. I gave up all my financial resources for him. I take care of my body for him. I’m spending my time right now writing about him and wondering if he’ll want to read these words someday. I’m already a mother and so is every infertile woman out there. Mothering is so much bigger than what our society has deemed ‘motherhood.’ I don’t know where I’m going with this train of thought but I do know that we are all mothers because we already care so very much.
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Today was my mom’s family’s Christmas gathering. My cousin was there – the one who shared my first due date with me. I could not look at that baby. I can’t think about it.
A few weeks ago I read a book about attachment parenting. I don’t know why that approach to parenting needs a name. It just sounds like common sense to me. I didn’t need to read it to know that I want to hold the baby as much as possible (with the help of a sling), breastfeed on demand, co-sleep, etc. But I’m glad that such a book exists because there must be people out there who don’t know that this approach exists.
I was not parented this way. If anything – and I don’t mean to slight my mom and dad by saying this – I was raised with the use of detachment parenting. I: was formula fed, slept in a crib, was left to cry it out when upset, was spanked when I did anything wrong, and usually played alone. (Although, paradoxically, when I was a teenager my parents nearly smothered me and I resented it because I was used to being alone and having to do most things for myself.) From what I understand, most of what I’ve just described was normal parenting for that time and I’m pretty sure that if my parents were to do it all over again, they’d be different.
I don’t like it. Of course, I know I’ll have to be flexible with my approach to childrearing – I can’t fall into the trap of parenting dogma because every child is unique – but it makes far more sense to me to believe that babies need to be breastfed (when possible – please don’t think I’m judging women for whom bf’ing doesn’t work!) and that they need comfort and companionship.
Of course, I think many people approach impending parenthood by thinking about everything their own parents did that they don’t want to do. I know that’s what I’m doing here. I think this is inevitable behavior, for the most part, although I think we risk going too far on the opposite side of the spectrum if we’re not careful. E.g., my parents used a detached style of parenting and so I think I run the risk of swinging the pendulum too far on the other side – I don’t want to be overbearing and smothering and too easygoing.
All I can do is be conscious of my parenting, to try my best, and to accept the fact that I will make mistakes. I know Ninja will have plenty of complaints about DH and me and that if he ever has children, he will also vow not to be like us! I'm ok with that.
I’ve read a bunch of books pertaining to pregnancy and newborns. My midwife stocks a ton of titles and I’ve been borrowing a few each week. In my opinion, the best ones are as follows:
· Spiritual Midwifery, by Ina May Gaskin. Michelle asked me if I read this one - yes! It was the first book I’d ever read about pregnancy and it helped me understand why, when at all possible, ‘natural’ birth is the way to go. Gaskin reaffirms the truth that pregnancy and childbirth are natural and normal physiological events and that, in most cases, birth occurs with no problems and doesn’t require interference. Before I read the book, I knew I wanted to try going drug-free but after I read it, I knew why I felt that way. The book’s descriptions of orgasmic birth are pretty funny, to be honest, but it was interesting to learn that labour doesn’t hurt for everyone.
· Bestfeeding. I’m nervous about breastfeeding – I was not breastfed and I didn’t see anyone do it until I was a teenager, at least, and so it doesn’t seem ‘normal’ to me, whatever that means – and this book made me feel a bit more confident in my ability to feed my child from my body. I liked the pictures of correct and incorrect positioning because I could study them to learn what was right and what wasn’t, since I’ve never watched anyone bf in real life.
· Birthing from Within. Sort of a philosophical guide to preparing for childbirth; I think it’s a good companion to Spiritual Midwifery. The author recommends using art (including writing and drawing) as a catalyst for thinking about pregnancy and labour and birth. The only thing I disliked about this book was the part that addressed people who are unready for parenthood. For these people, the book includes a checklist to go through to see if you are, in fact, too immature and unprepared to have a child. According to this checklist, I fall into that category which made me cry and feel as though I’m going to be a terrible mother. Other than that, it’s a great book.
· The Birth Partner, by Penny Simkin. A very practical guide for labour and delivery. Aimed at birth partners but I learned a lot from it.
Back to work tomorrow. Yikes, I hope I can find shoes that will fit my monstrous feet!
Still haven’t decided when I’ll take maternity leave. As long as baby doesn’t come sooner, I hope to work until at least January 11th. My principal said I can leave any time I like, though. And it would be great to be on mat leave already, it’s just that I have so much to do: finish administering final exams, do report cards, clean out my classroom and take everything home, etc.
And I like the job. I don’t mind staying as long as I can.
I’m afraid of Ninja coming before the 11th; if s/he arrives before that, I will not be finished exams and report cards. Not sure what I’ll do, then. It’s certainly not fair for the substitute teacher to do it; yet I want that time with my newborn to be sacred – I don’t want to have to mark stuff and do report cards and pack up my classroom when I’ll really need to feed the baby and to sleep and to cuddle with DH.
On the other hand, if s/he comes sooner, that would be better, actually, because DH would get to spend extra time with him/her before he has to go away for work.
Of course, this is completely out of my control. All I know is that I want a healthy and happy baby.
The only things I have 'disliked' about pregnancy:
a) None of people’s stupid comments came true - every single one of the ‘just you waits’ was false advertising. E.g., “just you wait, you’ll be loaded with stretch marks,” “just you wait, the baby’s kicks will hurt,” “just you wait, you’ll be glad when you’re not pregnant anymore.” None was true.
b) I’m not a big drinker by any stretch of the imagination – my pre-pregnancy average was 2 or 3 drinks per month – but I am looking forward to an alcoholic beverage. In fact, DH is under strict instructions to get me a bottle of stout following my first breastfeeding session! (My midwife said it was a good idea to drink a dark beer because the hops will help my milk come in – ok!)
c) Maternity clothes in general = yuck. Ugly. Ill fitting. Pants, especially, slide down at the slightest provocation (and I don’t mean anything sexual by that, unfortunately!). No wonder many pregnant women look terrible: it’s because pretty maternity apparel seems to be an unreachable goal!
Trivial things aside, I’ll miss being pregnant. It was a hundred times better than I ever thought it might be. It all seems too good to be true…
As I’ve been mentioning from time to time, I am planning a home birth. I hope that it works out. I wasn’t too sure about it at first. Although I knew that – in my uncomplicated case of pregnancy – a home birth was just as safe as a hospital birth, if not safer, my intuition was saying otherwise.
I try to follow my gut – and my midwife encourages ‘mother’s intuition’ – and so we started off planning a hospital birth. The hospital would likely be okay, anyway, since it’s got nice private birthing rooms, including pools, showers, squatting bars, birth balls, birth stools, etc.
Gradually, as I continued to inform myself about the differences between hospital and home births – and to learn about the slippery slope toward drugs and c-sections that can occur in hospitals – my mind began to change. (I was aware, too, that my ‘intuition’ was likely being influenced by the still-prevailing idea that hospital births are always the safest kind of births.) And then I decided on a home birth. I think that’s the best place for the baby and for me. We live only a few minutes from a hospital, anyway, which helps. And I know that my midwife will watch diligently for any sign that something might go awry, in which case she will not hesitate to recommend a hospital transfer.
I thought that DH would be opposed to my choice but he has been hugely supportive. He trusts that I’m doing thorough research and that I’ll make a decision that’s in the baby’s best interest.
I’ve acquired just about everything I need for birth at home – the list of things to get was surprisingly long: everything from an aquarium net to a bath pillow to a shower curtain to Gatorade. I still have to pick up an extra bedsheet because I have only one for my bed.
I hope this home birth plan works out. We’ll see what happens.
Happy New Year to you all. For those of you waiting for your babes, may 2010 bring you the fulfillment of this dream. xxx
