Checking in

We're settling in a bit, now that we have three children.  Lots of people told me that the transition from 1 child to 2 children was much, much harder than the transition from 2 to 3 children.  I was, admittedly, skeptical, especially given my own initial uncertainty regarding my pregnancy.  I have to say, 11 days in, that the transition has been fairly smooth.  There have been a few glitches.  Wild Man has felt left out, and that was compounded by the fact that he went from full day camps the week of the baby's (I'm still working on a pseudonym) birth to half day camps this past week.  There have been several times this week when Archer and I have been occupied with the baby, and Wild Man has played Legos by himself for 3+ hours, making for a cranky 5 1/2 year old by dinner time.  Bear, however, has been remarkable.  I was a bit worried about his reaction, as he is, in many ways, still babyish, but he has blossomed before our eyes.  He checks on the baby, he wants to hold the baby, he sings to the baby.  He is incredibly gentle, loving, and protective.  Archer and I have repeatedly said to each other that we feel like we're seeing a whole new side to Bear.

As for me, I'm tired, but I'm not the dead tired I was with Wild Man, who had colic.  The baby wakes up in the night to nurse, and he goes back to sleep fairly easily.  I'm trying to get a nap in every morning, which helps a lot.  Archer is handling almost everything with the house, which will have to change soon as he starts teaching in about 4 weeks, and that is helpful.  My mom was here last week, and she was some help, although not a lot for various reasons.  Yetta arrives tomorrow, and she'll run errands and pick up the boys, leaving me to focus on the baby and let Archer get some writing done.  We're getting a bit more of a routine day by day.  And if I get a bit more time, I'll write the birth story, as well as the 1 million and 1 other things I want to write. . . but that is for another post.

Giving birth in Canada

After our appointment with my midwife this week, C and I have finally begun to grasp just how different our birth experience with Z will be from the one we had with Wild Man. As I have said many times, I experienced a number of medical interventions with Wild man, but given the circumstances of the birth, I really think all the interventions were necessary. Further, I had as close to the birth experience as I could have hoped for given the distress that Wild Man was in throughout labor. I have never felt unsatisfied or unhappy with our experience in anyway. In fact, I have always felt very glad I had such a great nurse who advocated so strongly for me and helped ensure I was able to have an unmedicated, vaginal birth.

Despite that, we've recently been considering a home birth for a lot of reasons. For me, I was primarily concerned about the amount of rest I would get in the hospital. With Wild Man, I managed to get some, but I still left the hospital exhausted, as did C, who was able to stay with me because we were given a birthing suite (we got this because the maternity floor was packed, and it was the only room available; I'm assuming the couch in the room made it a suite!). From what my friends have told me, private rooms in Canada are rare and come at a very high premium (about $250 or more a night). C has, however, declared that I get a room at any expense (we're paying nothing out of pocket for my prenatal care or for Z's birth; that's the benefit of socialized insurance), assuming there are any available after I give birth. If there are none available, I will be sharing a room with 3 other women. I don't mind sharing, but it doesn't seem conducive to rest at all. Giving birth at home seems much more restful to me.

On Wednesday, we asked my midwife about home birth, and she answered a few basic questions. When I expressed the above to her, she said, "Well, there is another option. Since you're under a midwife's care, you can actually leave the hospital as soon as 3 hours after you give birth (asuming, of course, it is a normal, uneventful birth and she has no concerns for me or the baby)." C and I must have looked completely flabbergasted because she went on to explain that the reason for this is the after care Z and I will receive with her. She will visit us at our home 24 hours after Z is born, and at least 2 more times in the first week. If she needs to come more she will. I will then see her in her office at 2, 4, & 6 weeks after giving birth; she will also give Z check-ups. Women using OBs don't have this option because they, typically, don't see their doctors until 6 weeks post-partum. After she then explained this, I was still puzzled, so I asked "Do you mean that the baby isn't sent to the nursery for tests?" It was her turn to look flabbergasted. She said, "No, as long as there are no complications, you will have the baby with you at all times." I know I still looked puzzled because she then said, "We don't have nurseries in our province; we only have NICUS. As long as babies are healthy, they are with their moms the entire time." She then asked about our experience in the States. When we explained that Wild Man had been in the nursery for at least 3 hours following the birth (we were allowed to have him with us for almost an hour), she looked aghast. She actually checked my chart to remind herself when I had given birth. She asked "You mean this practice was still going on in 2006?" C laughed and said that our experience was fairly typical, at least for our state. I told her what she described is very similar to a what I've read about birthing center births, not about hospital births. Needless to say, C and I left her office feel very reassured about the sort of hospital birth we will likely have, and unless we can get a private room, we will likely leave the hospital as soon as we can--provided that I don't give birth in the middle of the night. Then I think we'd stay just so we wouldn't wake up Wild Man with our arrival home.

We did discuss the option of home birth for a while on Thursday, but we have one major obstacle: what do we do with Wild Man? My mom will be here about 4 days before Z's due date, but I fully realize Z could come much earlier. My sister, who lives about 6 hours away, has offered to get on the road as soon as I go into labor so she can be with Wild Man, but given how fast my first labor went (just under 5 hours), there is no guarantee she'll be here in time. I really don't want Wild Man to be around when I've giving birth, and I especially don't want him in the house. With a hopsital birth, we will have to make arrangements with our friends to watch him, but neither of us will have to worry about his presence in the house. Given everything we'd just learned about a hospital birth in Canada, we think it seems like the right option for us, so I am fairly certain that is what we will do. I am feeling very excited about this birth and the fact that we will have Z with us at all times.

Flummoxed

I cannot think of another word for how much C floored me yesterday; he truly left me flummoxed, and I'm not sure what to do about it.

Yesterday we were discussing my next appointment with my midwife and what questions we had (as an aside, at some point I need to write about the differences between having a midwife and an OB). As we talked I relayed a story that my office mate (yes, I'm finally making friends!) had shared with me about the birth of her second daughter. She had a home birth and told me that, unlike what I know about home births in the states, she and her partner didn't have to provide anything; the midwife brought it all. I was really surprised by this, and said as much to C. He then looked at me and said "You've been talking a lot about home births recently; do you want to have a home birth?" I was completely floored.

First, I haven't been talking about home births a lot recently; or if I have, I certainly didn't realize it. Second, I have been contemplating the advantages of a home birth, but given C adamant stance against home births, I haven't brought it up with him. C made this comment just as we were putting Wild Man in the tub, which immediately precedes the bedtime routine. After Wild Man fell asleep, C also went to bed, as he is trying to get over a cold. We never really got to finish the conversation, and I'm not sure how I feel. On one hand, a home birth scares the crap out of me, but on the other, I remember how many times my sleep was interrupted by nurses and how loud the hospital was. I haven't been considering a home birth as a way to avoid medical interventions because I know my midwife and I are on the same page there, but I have thought that a home birth might be more restful in some ways. Now that C has put it out there, I feel like it is something I can consider and we can talk about. But first I have to figure out how I feel about it. . .

Holy Cow!

I just read an article titled "Oh Baby! Newborn twins tip scales at 23 pounds." I've always been glad that Wild Man weighed a modest 7 pounds even at birth. Thinking of carrying twins, one who weighed over 10 pounds and the other who weighed over 12 pounds at birth, makes me nauseous and hurt. I will likely never say what I'm about to say about childbirth ever again: thank God for C-sections!

Wild Man's Birth Story

I wrote this a few days after Wild Man was born, and I've decided to post it in honor of his upcoming birthday. I've added a few sections (marked with asterisks) recently. I remember this day so vividly. I still don't think I really know how close we came to a c-section. C and I have talked about it a few times, and he always tells me we were close. I asked him again last night, and he looked at me a moment before answering. Without giving me any details, he quietly said that he had never been so scared in his life. He said, "I was watching the monitors while helping you get through the contractions. I didn't like what I saw, and I know the doctor didn't. I think we had about 5 minutes before I got pulled out of the room to sign the paperwork for a c-section. I know one of nurses had brought a bunch of forms into the room. I was really scared." He never told me that before. Thankfully we avoided a c-section, and Wild Man and I were both fine. I would happily go through all of the stress and uncertainty again for my beautiful son. I am also very, very proud that, despite the numerous interventions we experienced, that we still had a positive birth experience. I am also proud that despite the fact that I was indeed given medication (to slow down my contractions and give the baby a chance to recover from the contractions) I did fulfill my wish to go without pain medication (although I did receive a local just as Wild Man crowned as I had already torn and needed an episiotomy).

On Friday, Oct. 20^th, C & I went to my regular check-up at 9:20 expecting to learn that I hadn't made any progress at all; after three weeks of contractions, I had yet to go into labor. We discovered I was dilated to 2 centimeters and 80% thinned out. When the doctor checked the baby's heart rate, it was in the 180s, which concerned her as it had been in the 130s for 4 weeks. So she put me on the fetal monitor in the office. After 20 minutes she checked me again and the baby's heart rate had not gotten more regular. It was fluctuating from 170s to 130s. She wanted to monitor me for 20 more minutes to see if the baby's heart rate would drop to the 150s for at least 5 minutes in a row. Unfortunately, his heart rate continued to fluctuate, dropping as low as 80 for over a minute. So my doctor decided I needed to be induced right away, and we headed to the hospital. We were both very concerned and nervous, as we weren't sure what to expect and the doctor made it clear that if necessary we would have a c-section, which neither of us wanted. We called our good friend, who was acting as our doula, and asked her to get out things from our house and meet us at the hospital. We told her to take her time because we expected the induction to take a while.

*I remember walking out the back entrance of my doctor's office. The sky was bright blue, and a cool breeze was blowing. I was trying so hard not to cry. I had done enough research that I knew what to expect from an induction and a c-section, but I wasn't emotionally prepared for either. C hugged me before we got in the car and reassured me everything would be ok. On the way to the hospital we each tried to contact our families; I was only able to get in touch with my sister who, like C, tried to reassure me. She volunteered to get in touch with our parents for me so that I could focus on myself and the baby. C called his mom and learned that they were taking his dad to the hospital as well. His dad, who had been diagnosed with lung cancer in April, was having trouble breathing, and his doctor wanted to monitor him for a few hours.

We got to the hospital at 11:00, and by 11:10 I was in an exam room being monitored. The baby's heart rate had steadied and was around 130s for about 20 minutes. The nurse reviewed our birth plan and told us what we would still be able to do and what we wouldn't, since we were having an emergency induction. She assured us that we would still be able to have an unmedicated birth, but that I would just need to be monitored more closely. During this time the nurse had started an IV, and I had to go to the bathroom really badly. Since the baby's heart rate seemed to have evened out, she let me get up to go to the bathroom. When I got back, she hooked me back up to the monitors, and the baby's heart rate had dropped again. By this time (about 11:45), my doctor was in the room, and things started happening very quickly. Before I really knew what was happening, my doctor was breaking my water and inserting a catheter to put saline around the baby, in an attempt to regulate the heart rate. Luckily both of these things worked, and I was moved to a delivery suite.

* Everything happened so fast in this 30 minute period. I went from calmly answering the nurse's questions to being told that they had to break my water immediately in an attempt to regulate the baby's heart rate. I still remember the warm rush of water and the look of extreme concern on my doctor's face when she told us that their was meconium in the amniotic fluid. I didn't have time to think about much else as my contractions started almost immediately. I experienced my first strong contraction as the nurse and C wheeled me from the exam room to a delivery room. During all of this C spoke to my sister who volunteered to fly in immediately to be there when we got home from the hospital. I realized how concerned C was when he asked her to come as soon as she could.

The contractions started immediately and became regular very fast. In fact, the contractions became regular so quickly that I was never given pitocin. My doctor came in about 45 minutes later to check me, and I had progressed from 2 centimeter to 5 centimeters in a little over 2 hours. By this time the contractions were very intense and very close together; my doula and C were doing all they could to keep me focused on my relaxation exercises, but I was having a hard time. I wanted to get up and move, but every time I changed positions the baby's heart rate changed. The nurse kept checking on me, and each time I would ask if I could move. She let me switch from my left side to my right side, but I couldn't get out of bed. As the contractions got more and more intense, I told C I couldn't do it and that I needed the medication. Luckily both he and my dola recognized that I was in transition and encouraged me, telling me that I could do it. He was so wonderful; he never wavered, despite his own concerns about the baby. All of a sudden I felt like I needed to push, so my dola got the nurse. She checked me and I was 8 centimeters, in a little over an hour. The nurse told me to get on all fours in the bed and encouraged me to gently push to bring the baby down further. The contractions got so intense and were right on top of each other. All of a sudden C wasn't beside me; my doula was still there, but C had moved away to talk to the nurse. I was vaguely aware of the conversation, I didn't really understand what was going on. I later learned that the baby's heart rate was not tolerating the contractions at all. My doctor was in the room by now, and she let the nurse and C run the show while she watched the monitors. I learned later that she told C that if the baby's heart rate didn't even out in the next few minutes we would need to do a c-section. The nurse suggested giving me a medication to slow down the contractions, and although my doctor didn't think it would work, she agreed. I reminded them all that I didn't want any kind of medication, but the nurse reassured me that this medication may enable us to have a vaginal birth. While the nurse gave me the medication, the doctor checked me again; I was 9 centimeters (only 3.5 hours from when the doctor had broken my water), but the baby had also turned posterior, which explained why the contractions in my back were so horrible and why the baby'sheart rate wouldn't stabilize. The medication made me shiver severely, but it slowed the contractions down enough to let the doctor turn the baby. Once she turned the baby, the heart rate stabilized. By this point, I was completely unaware of what was going on, as I was desperate to push. Everyone kept telling me not to push, which is the most difficult thing to do. I heard the doctor tell me "I'm going to try to turn the baby now," and all I really understood was how painful that was. She finally said I could push, and the baby tolerated the contractions from then on, with his heart rate staying in the 130s. I started pushing at 3:40, and Wild Man was born at 4:13, just about 5 hours after we had arrived at the hospital.

I think most of us knew this. . .

"Painful sex common after giving birth": didn't most of us know this already? I think a more important thing to study is why don't more women talk to their doctors (heck, or even each other!) about this. Why is it still taboo for women to discuss sex?

Unmedicated Childbirth

A good friend of mine is expecting her first child in October, and we were recently chatting about unmedicated childbirth. She asked me if I would have another unmedicated birth and if I would use the Bradley method again. I immediately answered yes; I would try for a very similar birth experience, as both C and I were very happy with S's birth. That said, my feelings about our birth experience are very complicated, and while I've happily shared the birth story with most good friends, I haven't really gone into much detail regarding my feelings of the birth. As with most of my mothering decisions, I feel very protective and almost defensive about my experience. My need to write about my protective feelings is more about me thinking through why I'm so protective of the experience rather than feeling attacked by people who disagree with my choice.

I know precisely why I am protective of my birth experience (and I say my rather than our because C and I have very different perspectives on the experience). For me the experience was completely about my family; I wanted to do what was best suited for us. While on some minute level, I did feel committed to having an unmedicated birth to prove all the people who questioned my desire and ability to do it wrong. But all of those feelings went away the minute I went into labor. I've discussed my experience with other women who've had unmedicated childbirth and women who elected to have medication. Most of these women describe the contractions as painful, and while I wholeheartedly agree contractions hurt, I'm unhappy with the word "painful." Since S was born I've been searching for a word to describe what I experienced with my contractions. Painful seems too negative, too harsh. Intense is a good word because I think intense can refer to positive and negative experiences, but painful has too many negative connotations associated with it. Perhaps I'm overly sentimental about S's birth (which is entirely possible considering the difficult days and weeks that followed not only due to having a colicky newborn but due to the death of C's dad the day after S was born), but I'm unhappy calling that experience painful. That day was anything but painful. So now I discover that I've become one of those women who wax poetic about the "pain" associated with childbirth, and I don't feel that accurately describes my experience either. It was a tense and intense day; we came dangerously close to an emergency c-section because S's heart rate was not stable. To this day, I'm not even certain how close we came as I was busy coping with contractions; C, my doula, and my doctor have all told me we were within minutes. Luckily, my doctor was able to turn S while he was inside of me (I will associate pain with that particular experience!), and he quickly stabilized. Forty-five minutes after that, my beautiful son was born. So when people ask me if I would choose another method of childbirth, I have to say no. Our method (I hesitate to say we used the Bradley method because I really believe the Bradley method encourages you to develop your own method of relaxation techniques to get you through childbirth) worked for us once, and I would happily do it again.

Writing this, I find that almost six months later, I still haven't processed that day completely. My life was profoundly changed that day in October. I also know that C and I haven't discussed it as much as either one of us would like to because S's birth is forever connected with his grandfather's death. To me death is painful; birth is not.

A new baby and daycare

Yesterday I acted as a doula for my good friend and happily helped her and her husband welcome their beautiful baby girl into the world. I have to say birth is an entirely different experience when you're not the one giving birth. It was so thrilling to see Baby J crown and to encourage her mother to fulfill her goal of unmedicated childbirth. I was deeply honored to be there and very, very happy to return the favor, as Baby J's mama acted as my doula at S's birth three months ago. As I was with my birth experience, I was deeply awed by the strength of the female body. Welcome to the world Baby J!

After such a great day, I woke up this morning not feeling so great. Today is the first day I take S to daycare. I will be with him the entire time as we're spending this week transitioning. Tomorrow C will take him, and on Friday, we will take him together. We've talked about this endlessly, and while I know it is the right decision, I feel horrible. I'm going to be a complete wreck next Monday, the first day I will leave him by himself. As I reread that sentence, I know how preposterous it sounds. I am not leaving him by himself. I'm leaving him with capable caregivers whom I trust and who were highly recommended by two good friends. I know I'm setting myself up to feel like a bad mother, whatever that means, but I really feel like I'm leaving him all alone.