I had said in my last post that I would keep updates coming. My bad for not actually POSTING the updates. I have kept a somewhat ongoing diary of each day on my phone though. And here it is. Clearly, you can see how each day is a battle... physically and mentally.
January 16-- had (what Elizabeth later identified as) some mild contractions when I laid down for bed at the end of the day. She said this was likely to happen off and on, and that i needed to let her know if it got to the point where I had to work through each one.
January 17th-- felt heavier and like I was carrying lower than normal all day, was very busy and on my feet a lot. Got a nap, but around 8:45 had to lie down, and the same dull back pain and abdominal cramps from the night before came back. Nothing that must keep my concentration, but hard to ignore too because I feel like it's signaling that things are going to get rolling in the next few days. Feeling pissy and emotional. Want to cry because things aren't getting done and I'm not allowed to do them. If everything were ready my mind might let my body do its thing, but I feel like these last minute details are what's keeping me from going into active labor.
January 18th-- some mild contractions in the afternoon. Barely noticeable, but there. These beginning contractions are way different than what I remember. A lot more tolerable than anything I ever had with Roscoe.
January 19th-- 5 am woke up to go to the bathroom and started contracting again when I laid back down. They've been coming and going in waves now for an hour. I was preparing mentally to have the baby tomorrow, maybe I'm wrong?
January 21st-- first contraction since late lunch yesterday came around 2:40. It was the first decent one yet that required any sort of thought to get through. More around 10 pm. Had 3 contractions in the span of 20 minutes. Expressed reaching the point of getting frustrated with contractions that didn't seem to be going anywhere. Mark told me that he thinks my biggest enemy in labor is my mind. I tend to agree. Working now on relaxing and letting my body do its thing.
January 23rd-- Felt like today was it. When nothing happened by the end of the day I was feeling very down. Becoming weary of daily contractions that "aren't doing anything." Whether or not they are dilating me, I know these contractions are beneficial and warming my body up. But my emotions have a hard time accepting it. It's definitely a battle between my heart and my mind.
It's one thing to know that a due date is not an expiration date, it's another thing entirely to be aware of that but experiencing contractions from 37.5 weeks.
The contractions picked up today more than ever. More of them more often, but still irregular. Almost 11 pm now and I'm hoping to get a decent amount of rest tonight. Although I feel contractions may interrupt that sleep.
January 24th-- Doesn't this baby know his due date is still over a week away? It's fine for him to be "overdue." But there's really no need to fake me out with so many on-off-on-off contractions. Mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausting.
January 26th-- Right now I'm good. Nothing on the physical front. I think I've reconciled in my mind that I'm ok with this lasting another week. My due date still isn't til a week from tomorrow. And I never imagined that I'd last that long, but that doesn't mean he'll come early. And I know it'll be a challenge once he's here, and nothing will be the same again (even though I'm excited about that). So right now I'm enjoying time with Roscoe while he's still my only little boy. And resting as much as possible.
January 28th-- After a couple days of nothing and being ok with that, at 11 pm as I tried to start relaxing to sleep, I got a few contractions. Just going to breathe, hopefully go to sleep.
January 30th-- not gonna lie, compared to the previous birth, these contractions feel good. They feel like everything I had expected but didn't get to experience with Roscoe. "It's a good pain," "they feel like they're accomplishing something," "it's uncomfortable and painful, but you can breathe through them." Right now as they come I'm just relaxing and enjoying the fact that they're warming my body up for the real thing. Elizabeth encouraged me yesterday to just ignore them until I couldn't possible anymore. I'm in a lot better spirits today than I was a week ago with still being pregnant.
Showing posts with label Pregnancy and Baby Stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pregnancy and Baby Stuff. Show all posts
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
Don't fear the normal
There have been so many things about this pregnancy that are different than Roscoe's. The first time, everything was so new to me and I knew that I wanted a natural birth, but didn't know exactly what that looked like. And that made me want to keep it all to myself--the whole experience. I didn't want to broadcast what was happening as it happened to me because I didn't know anything about it experience wise. That's why, if you knew me then, one day I was pregnant and then *bam* there were pictures of Roscoe online. Only a handful of people knew that I was in labor when I was in labor. The biggest reason for that was because I wanted privacy, worried that the stress of everyone pressuring me about how things were going would only cause my body to slow down. Maybe I was right. Maybe I was wrong. Who knows. It was a complicated birth regardless, and whether or not having it all to ourselves helped or hurt the process isn't worth trying to figure out now. It happened. And I apologize if my selfishness for the kind of birth I wanted left you hurt or offended that you didn't know the details of what was happening when.
This time, however.....
I have a totally different approach. There are so many women who fear birth. I did at one time. And I honestly feel that our culture is to blame for that. We've taken something so natural to the essence of women and created a monster out of it. A big, ugly looking, scary, "it's-gonna-eat-me-if-i-get-near-it" monster. It shouldn't be that way! And with this labor and birthing experience, I'm hoping to share my experience and journey in an attempt to normalize labor and childbirth. I know the circle of people that read this is a small one, but if it can positively affect even one person, then I'll be happy.
So as I experience these first twinges of labor pains, I want to talk about it, normalize it.... Let people know what I'm going through so they can see what a natural birth looks like. And not be scared of it. The way the woman's body was designed is so fascinating. And we're constantly told lies about our bodies prior to birth. One of the most common I hear from people is "my pelvic bones are too small to birth, my doctor told me I have the smallest ones he's ever seen." And I'm not mocking women who have believed this lie. If I had a doctor tell me the same thing, I'd believe it too. Why wouldn't you? They're supposed to know everything about birth... Here's the thing. At this moment, my pelvic bones are probably too small to pass a child through. Maybe, maybe not. But at the beginning of pregnancy? Definitely! No woman's body is ready to give birth when the doctor usually tells her that her pelvic bones are too small. That's the amazing part of the design. During childbirth, my body will release a wonderful array of hormones responsible for different things. One of them (I'm not my midwife, I can't tell you the name of it) basically allows the bones in my body to unhinge themselves and separate/stretch out to make room for the baby to pass through the birth canal. The tailbone even swings out (it's normally curved inward slightly) to make room. That's the one my midwife was concerned about before Roscoe, because I had a tailbone injury a year or so prior to his birth. But a few visits to the chiropractor insured that everything was ok... (Yes, I could feel the pain in my tailbone during birth, but it wasn't enough to keep me from birthing.)
So the one time I've given birth? Man, Roscoe's labor was hard. He wasn't in the correct position. Every second of every contraction was the most terrible thing I've ever experienced. Back labor is no joke. And anyone who has been through it can testify to the severity of that kind of pain.
What if that happens again? Well, that's gonna suck.... But I wouldn't trade the natural birth for anything, after having been through it once already. So he wasn't in the right position..... He was still born. It still worked out. Even though I "didn't know what I was doing" and had no way of knowing what was ahead of me when labor started, my body still handled it. There's crazy ridiculous insane strength and courage inside of every woman to give birth, but as a whole, we're too scared to trust our bodies and instincts to try it, mainly because we believe the lies that we're told about birth.
Sure, this time around I'm hoping for a correctly positioned baby, to facilitate a calmer, more peaceful birth than the first. Who wouldn't hope for that?
But regardless, I'm not going to allow myself to fear the process. I'm made for this. And if you're the average woman, you are too. I'm not a super hero because I birth my children at home. But I am blessed to know about the birthing process, and that's what I want other women to have. Knowledge. I know too many sad stories of women who just didn't know their options, and consequently didn't get the chance to let their bodies work naturally.
So in the coming days I hope to make more posts about what's going on with my body and what I'm experiencing pre-labor-wise.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
catch up and announcement
It's been so long since I've updated because I don't know how to blog without including a big part of what's going on in my life. I guess if I'm going to write about my life here, and I've got something I'm not ready to share yet, it's hard to write anything at all.
So with that said, if you don't know this already, baby #2 is on the way! We're thrilled. I'm due around the beginning of February, and Roscoe's birthday is February 13, so they'll be 2 years apart, which is what we originally wanted when we first started discussing having children.
Just another week or so of 1st trimester, which excites me beyond what I can express. I'm ready for energy to return for sure. The sickness this time only seemed to be hard-core for about a month, whereas with Roscoe it was all day every day for the first trimester, with throwing up at least once a day. But I could literally lie around all. day. long.
Are we wanting a girl? Well, of course. We would both love to have a daughter, but I'm trying not to think about it too much because I know I would be totally in love with another little guy as well. I don't want to get all hyped up for a girl only to find out it's a boy and have to deal with a guilty feeling of disappointment. A baby is a gift no matter what gender, health, etc. Besides, we won't find that out until the end of October anyway, so that's too far away to be thinking about right now.
I did have to temporarily abandon the "no 'poo" experiment. I went without using shampoo for a solid 3 months, substituting baking soda for it. But my hormone levels went so crazy at the beginning of this pregnancy that I couldn't take the oily-ness anymore and couldn't seem to trouble shoot it. So I'm back to using shampoo for the moment. Bleh. Oh well, I'll get back to it again. (But see, I didn't know how to update about that when I made that change...without saying "I had to start using shampoo again because my hair got so greasy because WE'RE GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY.")
Oh, and just to explain, we wanted to wait a bit to announce the pregnancy because sometimes pregnancies can seem soooo looooong when they're announced early. If we kept it a secret for a month or so, our theory is that it would make it feel a little faster. We'll see if that worked...
Roscoe is being my little sweetheart these days. I often get a few visits from him while he's playing--just so he can cuddle and smile with me for about 15 seconds before he tears off again. It's so nice to be able to experience a child learning to give/receive love. I know I'm just going to die when he reaches the age to tell me he loves me.
So with that said, if you don't know this already, baby #2 is on the way! We're thrilled. I'm due around the beginning of February, and Roscoe's birthday is February 13, so they'll be 2 years apart, which is what we originally wanted when we first started discussing having children.
Just another week or so of 1st trimester, which excites me beyond what I can express. I'm ready for energy to return for sure. The sickness this time only seemed to be hard-core for about a month, whereas with Roscoe it was all day every day for the first trimester, with throwing up at least once a day. But I could literally lie around all. day. long.
Are we wanting a girl? Well, of course. We would both love to have a daughter, but I'm trying not to think about it too much because I know I would be totally in love with another little guy as well. I don't want to get all hyped up for a girl only to find out it's a boy and have to deal with a guilty feeling of disappointment. A baby is a gift no matter what gender, health, etc. Besides, we won't find that out until the end of October anyway, so that's too far away to be thinking about right now.
I did have to temporarily abandon the "no 'poo" experiment. I went without using shampoo for a solid 3 months, substituting baking soda for it. But my hormone levels went so crazy at the beginning of this pregnancy that I couldn't take the oily-ness anymore and couldn't seem to trouble shoot it. So I'm back to using shampoo for the moment. Bleh. Oh well, I'll get back to it again. (But see, I didn't know how to update about that when I made that change...without saying "I had to start using shampoo again because my hair got so greasy because WE'RE GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY.")
Oh, and just to explain, we wanted to wait a bit to announce the pregnancy because sometimes pregnancies can seem soooo looooong when they're announced early. If we kept it a secret for a month or so, our theory is that it would make it feel a little faster. We'll see if that worked...
Roscoe is being my little sweetheart these days. I often get a few visits from him while he's playing--just so he can cuddle and smile with me for about 15 seconds before he tears off again. It's so nice to be able to experience a child learning to give/receive love. I know I'm just going to die when he reaches the age to tell me he loves me.
Friday, March 11, 2011
a little on colic
This Sunday Roscoe will be one month old. Already. Are you kidding me?! Now I know why people keep having babies! That first month is so precious; the newbornness of a newborn wears off too fast! It lasts just long enough to make you wish you had longer, so you have more babies.
No, I'm not pregnant. No, I don't want to become pregnant soon. Shame on you for thinking that.
But this first month has not been without frustration and anxiety. We have yet to get Roscoe to the pediatrician (hopefully that will happen within the next week for a 1 month check-up), so the "diagnosis" of colic comes only from other people. And it's funny, "colic" is such an abstract and elusive word.
My baby cries inconsolably for long periods of time.
Oh! Must be colic.
What's colic?
Oh, you know. Your baby cries a lot and gets mad and nothing quiets him but maybe running the hairdryer or vacuum or something weird like that.
. . . . . . . *cricket, cricket*. . . . . .
I'm the kind of girl who wants definitions. I want reasons and explanations and clear-cut descriptions. It doesn't matter if it's easy to swallow or not. Just tell me. I was like that even when in labor. Elizabeth hated giving me bad news. Oh, I'm just 2 cm and have been in labor for 9 hours? That's fine. At least it's clear-cut. This whole colic thing isn't at all like that.
A friend who recently struggled through months with a colicy baby suggested I buy colic calm, a homeopathic gripe water. As I was looking through the website I came across an explanation for what may be going on in these babies. And it gave me sympathy for Roscoe. Apparently, a baby's immature gut is prone to not just gas in the stomach, but also in the intestines. And it can't handle it. Gas just gets trapped and continues to build up pressure causing great discomfort. So burping a baby may help, but it isn't going to get all those bubbles out.
So we'll see if it helps. It's just hard on multiple levels to deal with a screaming baby. There's the side of me that wants to make everything better for him. That side doesn't want to put him down because maybe I am being of a little comfort, rather than putting him in a cold cradle to let him cry it out on his own. But then there's the side that gets angry at the fact that HE gets angry. I'll be rocking him, singing to him, walking him, and he'll reach up in rage and grab a fistful of my hair and scratch me. Ok, kid. Mommy is trying to calm you down and you let your temper fly. CALM. DOWN. So then I'm worked up and stressed and put him into said cold cradle and go outside to stand on the cold porch. There I am, frustrated, as my poor gassy child screams his head off alone in the cradle.
Where's the balance?
Yesterday was rough. The only time period I can think of that wasn't was when Mom and Dad brought dinner by. (Thanks again, by the way!) However, Roscoe had been fussy all day so he was probably too worn out to stay awake. I fed him and instantly he fell asleep. But once he woke up from that, he was at it again. At least it was during the day. He wore himself out so much that he slept for 8 hours last night! Holy cow! I almost feel guilty for getting that much sleep at once.
Oh, wait. Hold on....... No, no I don't. Feeling passed.
No, I'm not pregnant. No, I don't want to become pregnant soon. Shame on you for thinking that.
But this first month has not been without frustration and anxiety. We have yet to get Roscoe to the pediatrician (hopefully that will happen within the next week for a 1 month check-up), so the "diagnosis" of colic comes only from other people. And it's funny, "colic" is such an abstract and elusive word.
My baby cries inconsolably for long periods of time.
Oh! Must be colic.
What's colic?
Oh, you know. Your baby cries a lot and gets mad and nothing quiets him but maybe running the hairdryer or vacuum or something weird like that.
. . . . . . . *cricket, cricket*. . . . . .
I'm the kind of girl who wants definitions. I want reasons and explanations and clear-cut descriptions. It doesn't matter if it's easy to swallow or not. Just tell me. I was like that even when in labor. Elizabeth hated giving me bad news. Oh, I'm just 2 cm and have been in labor for 9 hours? That's fine. At least it's clear-cut. This whole colic thing isn't at all like that.
A friend who recently struggled through months with a colicy baby suggested I buy colic calm, a homeopathic gripe water. As I was looking through the website I came across an explanation for what may be going on in these babies. And it gave me sympathy for Roscoe. Apparently, a baby's immature gut is prone to not just gas in the stomach, but also in the intestines. And it can't handle it. Gas just gets trapped and continues to build up pressure causing great discomfort. So burping a baby may help, but it isn't going to get all those bubbles out.
So we'll see if it helps. It's just hard on multiple levels to deal with a screaming baby. There's the side of me that wants to make everything better for him. That side doesn't want to put him down because maybe I am being of a little comfort, rather than putting him in a cold cradle to let him cry it out on his own. But then there's the side that gets angry at the fact that HE gets angry. I'll be rocking him, singing to him, walking him, and he'll reach up in rage and grab a fistful of my hair and scratch me. Ok, kid. Mommy is trying to calm you down and you let your temper fly. CALM. DOWN. So then I'm worked up and stressed and put him into said cold cradle and go outside to stand on the cold porch. There I am, frustrated, as my poor gassy child screams his head off alone in the cradle.
Where's the balance?
Yesterday was rough. The only time period I can think of that wasn't was when Mom and Dad brought dinner by. (Thanks again, by the way!) However, Roscoe had been fussy all day so he was probably too worn out to stay awake. I fed him and instantly he fell asleep. But once he woke up from that, he was at it again. At least it was during the day. He wore himself out so much that he slept for 8 hours last night! Holy cow! I almost feel guilty for getting that much sleep at once.
Oh, wait. Hold on....... No, no I don't. Feeling passed.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Roscoe's birth story
This will probably be long and very detailed. Enjoy the read, if you're willing to stick through the whole thing. I've been meaning to get a post up about the labor process, but it's been difficult to get the time to (which I find ironic, since I've spent more time on the couch in the past 3 days than I have in years). Roscoe is trying to figure out the art of eating, and he's a hungry boy. Honestly I feel like all my time is spent trying to nurse him. I know we'll both figure it out here soon, so I'm not too down about it.
So, I'm going to start with last Thursday, the 10th. I was at Andy and Beth's house and went to the bathroom. (Insert here that I'm not afraid to share details, so if you get grossed out, it's not my fault, I'm not forcing you to read) :) When I was finished I noticed that there was bloody show on the toilet paper. Basically meaning I had lost the mucus plug that plugs up the cervix during pregnancy. A little bit of reality hit me when I contacted Elizabeth (my midwife) and her response was nothing short of elated. She told me that generally, it's 24-72 hours after you lose that that labor begins. This was around 7 pm Thursday evening, Mark was still in PA and potentially not going to get back until Saturday morning. I immediately told him and he was in gear to try to get back asap. Elizabeth told us it'd be best to not chance him missing it.
So, Friday, the 11th. Mark got away from PA around 9am. He'd be home in about 11 hours. Murphy's law kicked in around VA and the 4runner broke down. At this point I'd been having light contractions. They weren't by any means timable or intense, but contractions nonetheless. This was 4 pm. I immediately turned into an emotional train wreck and was minutes short of getting in the car and going to get him myself until family stepped in and helped. Mom told me she'd come spend the night with me. I told her she didn't have to, but moms know best. And I'm glad she told me she was doing it no matter what I thought. Because.....
Saturday morning, the 12th, at 1:30am a contraction woke me up. It was more intense than the others. Mine and Mark's dads had gone up Friday night to retrieve the 4runner, and Andy and Ben drove up separately to get Mark. I tried to go back to sleep after the contraction faded, but they kept coming and I decided to get up at 3am.
So when I say that I was in labor for 23 hours, the start time I'm talking about is that 1:30am contraction.
Mom and I immediately started getting everything ready for the birth. Mom moved the furniture around and blew up the birthing pool. I did some stuff here and there but really mom was getting everything we needed set out while I worked through contractions.
Things started getting more difficult and I called Elizabeth around 5:30 am. I told her what I was feeling and how things were progressing. She said that most likely since I was the one calling and not mom, I was probably fine to continue laboring on my own. Once I got "in a zone" and someone else had to call, that's usually the time the midwives decide to come over.
I tried to rest as much as possible.
Mark got home around 6 am. I cried on his shoulder for a minute. The emotions involved in that moment that he walked through the door were incredible. Here is our reunion, after 6 weeks of separation, interrupted by sharp contractions that make me double over. If I were to think about it too much, I'd let myself have a pity party that our reunion was so sucky. BUT, God answered many hundreds and hundreds of prayers by just letting Mark walk through that door in time to help me through the birth of our son. We both hugged mom and thanked her immensely for staying with me and getting things ready. She left.
This is where things get a little fuzzy for me. While it was a homebirth, there's still an element where I felt kind of drugged. The labor as a whole I remember, but the little details about what happened when are a blurr.
I told Mark to call Elizabeth. I was ready for them (them being Elizabeth and her apprentice, Jenn). I guess they came over between 7 and 8 am. We got the birthing pool ready and Jenn checked me. I was completely thinned out and what we thought was 7 cm. What we didn't know was that the 7 cm was incorrect. Elizabeth didn't check behind Jenn and she was mistaken. (Insert here that I was in NO WAY frustrated at Jenn for the mistake. Apparently, especially in first time mothers, the cervix flexes easily and can be pushed out of the way, so what felt like 7 cm was in reality less than 5.) The problem this created is that typically, going into the birthing pool before you're at 6 cm will significantly slow the labor process. Since we thought I was at a 7, I went in. Even though the contractions continued, the water slowed things down.
I don't know what time it was, but I got the urge to push. Roscoe's head was only about an inch inside me. He was waaaaaaaay down there. After however long of pushing with no progress, Elizabeth checked me and gave the bad news that I was only at 5 cm. I had to get out of the pool. They decided to give us some privacy, so they left to make another homevisit and told us to call if we needed them back. The urge to push was due to Roscoe being so low, even though I wasn't dilated all the way.
Once my contractions were lasting no less than 4 minutes long with a break of maybe 30 seconds between each, Mark called Elizabeth back. I was in agony. Reaching the "get this thing outta me" point.
I honestly can't recall if I went back in the birthing pool or not. But I know that the next time Elizabeth checked me, I was at 7 cm. I started to feel really helpless. All this work, 4 minute long contractions, and I'm not even to the transition part of labor yet? (8-10 cm, the most intense part of opening up). They stayed for a while and I wasn't making much progress, so Elizabeth told us they were going to leave but stay close. She really believed I labored better without them there, and Mark agreed. So they were gone.
I was told to get some rest (I was functioning off an hour and a half of sleep), but at this point it was impossible. I had to get up and move around. So Mark went to bed to try to rest some while I walked around the house and sat/rolled around on the exercise ball. I took a shower and once I got out, the contractions were so intense I felt I couldn't make it through them. I started getting shaky and I threw up. And I got the urge to push again. Mark called them back.
I worked through a bunch of non-stop contractions, trying to relax through each, but it was so hard. The natural reaction is to tense up. I got back in the pool and all I remember is hitting a point where I HAD to push. I absolutely couldn't wait any longer. I didn't even tell Elizabeth and Jenn, I just started doing it. They were in the kitchen and ran into the living room to get suited up for the delivery. It was around 9:30 pm.
Hours later--yes--hours--Elizabeth decided to check me to see if maybe there was a little lip of the cervix that was stuck. She checked and what do you know but I'm only 8 cm. I felt like I couldn't take any more news like that. I was functioning off an hour and a half of sleep, and I hadn't had anything to eat since Friday night. This was Saturday late night. She said there were 2 options: I could get out of the pool and labor through contractions letting them open my cervix up, or she could force it open as I was pushing during the next contraction.
Hmmmm.... Would you rather have your thumbnail or your big toenail ripped off?
I thought about it for a minute and decided to let her force it open. I had already been pushing for hours and didn't want to mentally or physically backtrack to just letting the contractions do their own work. It was too much of a relief to push. So the next contraction, as I pushed, she was using her fingers to force my cervix all the way around Roscoe's head.
It was still a while, but progress was made. I got out of the pool to push on the couch in different positions. Then once enough progress was made, I got back in the pool and pushed using more different positions. The water definitely eased the pain.
Elizabeth, Jenn, and Mark were all excellent in encouraging me and praising me for making progress. I didn't feel like I was because I couldn't see what was going on. But I hit a point where I was determined to get him out. I gave myself 3 contractions to get him to the point where he was crowing and I could see him. It worked. I looked down in the midst of hearing all the "excellent"s and "good job, anne marie"s to see the top of his head. I screamed "I can see him!!!!" and then the contractions kept coming stronger and closer. It was no time until I felt his head coming out. All at once, it literally popped out and she unwrapped the cord from his neck (this is a very common occurance in almost all babies). I gave it one more push for his shoulders to come out and suddenly the rest of him just slipped out of my body and I was being handed my little Roscoe. February 13, 2011. 12:20 am. Welcome, Roscoe Porter Grant.....
I don't think I cried. I was just in shock, as you can see from that bottom picture. I couldn't stop gasping and looking at that little face covered in that cheesy vernix. And the best part, Roscoe couldn't stop looking at me either. We sat there in the pool for 15 minutes maybe just looking at each other. Here's the little one that had been growing inside my body for 9 months, looking into my eyes. He knew who I was, I could tell by the way he stared. And Mark was right there with us the whole time. It was perfect.
I did have quite a bit of bleeding after the placenta was delivered. I got 2 shots of pitocin to combat it and it was followed by some sort of pill that I can't remember the name of. By the way, the placenta was HUGE. Enormous. At least I know I was giving him enough nutrients during the pregnancy :)
Mark bonding with his son while Elizabeth and Jenn tended to me.
Newborn exam
The measurement Mark is most proud of: the chest size. Forget length and weight. Roscoe came out with a 14.5 inch chest measurement. Elizabeth said the biggest she's seen is 15.
Getting the weight. 8 lbs 9 oz. 22.5 inches long.
So the reason for the complicated labor........... Roscoe came out posterior. Instead of his back facing out, his back was positioned toward my spine. So he had it backwards. Creating some terrible back labor. Also, instead of having his chin tucked into his chest, he was trying to look up as he was coming out. Consequently, I pushed for 3 hours and he had a gigantic bump on his head that looked like a tumor. The swelling went down that night but he has a bruise from it. These factors are what contributed to a labor that was looooong and really had no pattern.
But he's here. And yes, for the curious ones. Our future children will be born at home as well. Wouldn't trade homebirths or midwives for anything. They were incredible...
So, I'm going to start with last Thursday, the 10th. I was at Andy and Beth's house and went to the bathroom. (Insert here that I'm not afraid to share details, so if you get grossed out, it's not my fault, I'm not forcing you to read) :) When I was finished I noticed that there was bloody show on the toilet paper. Basically meaning I had lost the mucus plug that plugs up the cervix during pregnancy. A little bit of reality hit me when I contacted Elizabeth (my midwife) and her response was nothing short of elated. She told me that generally, it's 24-72 hours after you lose that that labor begins. This was around 7 pm Thursday evening, Mark was still in PA and potentially not going to get back until Saturday morning. I immediately told him and he was in gear to try to get back asap. Elizabeth told us it'd be best to not chance him missing it.
So, Friday, the 11th. Mark got away from PA around 9am. He'd be home in about 11 hours. Murphy's law kicked in around VA and the 4runner broke down. At this point I'd been having light contractions. They weren't by any means timable or intense, but contractions nonetheless. This was 4 pm. I immediately turned into an emotional train wreck and was minutes short of getting in the car and going to get him myself until family stepped in and helped. Mom told me she'd come spend the night with me. I told her she didn't have to, but moms know best. And I'm glad she told me she was doing it no matter what I thought. Because.....
Saturday morning, the 12th, at 1:30am a contraction woke me up. It was more intense than the others. Mine and Mark's dads had gone up Friday night to retrieve the 4runner, and Andy and Ben drove up separately to get Mark. I tried to go back to sleep after the contraction faded, but they kept coming and I decided to get up at 3am.
So when I say that I was in labor for 23 hours, the start time I'm talking about is that 1:30am contraction.
Mom and I immediately started getting everything ready for the birth. Mom moved the furniture around and blew up the birthing pool. I did some stuff here and there but really mom was getting everything we needed set out while I worked through contractions.
Things started getting more difficult and I called Elizabeth around 5:30 am. I told her what I was feeling and how things were progressing. She said that most likely since I was the one calling and not mom, I was probably fine to continue laboring on my own. Once I got "in a zone" and someone else had to call, that's usually the time the midwives decide to come over.
I tried to rest as much as possible.
Mark got home around 6 am. I cried on his shoulder for a minute. The emotions involved in that moment that he walked through the door were incredible. Here is our reunion, after 6 weeks of separation, interrupted by sharp contractions that make me double over. If I were to think about it too much, I'd let myself have a pity party that our reunion was so sucky. BUT, God answered many hundreds and hundreds of prayers by just letting Mark walk through that door in time to help me through the birth of our son. We both hugged mom and thanked her immensely for staying with me and getting things ready. She left.
This is where things get a little fuzzy for me. While it was a homebirth, there's still an element where I felt kind of drugged. The labor as a whole I remember, but the little details about what happened when are a blurr.
I told Mark to call Elizabeth. I was ready for them (them being Elizabeth and her apprentice, Jenn). I guess they came over between 7 and 8 am. We got the birthing pool ready and Jenn checked me. I was completely thinned out and what we thought was 7 cm. What we didn't know was that the 7 cm was incorrect. Elizabeth didn't check behind Jenn and she was mistaken. (Insert here that I was in NO WAY frustrated at Jenn for the mistake. Apparently, especially in first time mothers, the cervix flexes easily and can be pushed out of the way, so what felt like 7 cm was in reality less than 5.) The problem this created is that typically, going into the birthing pool before you're at 6 cm will significantly slow the labor process. Since we thought I was at a 7, I went in. Even though the contractions continued, the water slowed things down.
I don't know what time it was, but I got the urge to push. Roscoe's head was only about an inch inside me. He was waaaaaaaay down there. After however long of pushing with no progress, Elizabeth checked me and gave the bad news that I was only at 5 cm. I had to get out of the pool. They decided to give us some privacy, so they left to make another homevisit and told us to call if we needed them back. The urge to push was due to Roscoe being so low, even though I wasn't dilated all the way.
Once my contractions were lasting no less than 4 minutes long with a break of maybe 30 seconds between each, Mark called Elizabeth back. I was in agony. Reaching the "get this thing outta me" point.
I honestly can't recall if I went back in the birthing pool or not. But I know that the next time Elizabeth checked me, I was at 7 cm. I started to feel really helpless. All this work, 4 minute long contractions, and I'm not even to the transition part of labor yet? (8-10 cm, the most intense part of opening up). They stayed for a while and I wasn't making much progress, so Elizabeth told us they were going to leave but stay close. She really believed I labored better without them there, and Mark agreed. So they were gone.
I was told to get some rest (I was functioning off an hour and a half of sleep), but at this point it was impossible. I had to get up and move around. So Mark went to bed to try to rest some while I walked around the house and sat/rolled around on the exercise ball. I took a shower and once I got out, the contractions were so intense I felt I couldn't make it through them. I started getting shaky and I threw up. And I got the urge to push again. Mark called them back.
I worked through a bunch of non-stop contractions, trying to relax through each, but it was so hard. The natural reaction is to tense up. I got back in the pool and all I remember is hitting a point where I HAD to push. I absolutely couldn't wait any longer. I didn't even tell Elizabeth and Jenn, I just started doing it. They were in the kitchen and ran into the living room to get suited up for the delivery. It was around 9:30 pm.
Hours later--yes--hours--Elizabeth decided to check me to see if maybe there was a little lip of the cervix that was stuck. She checked and what do you know but I'm only 8 cm. I felt like I couldn't take any more news like that. I was functioning off an hour and a half of sleep, and I hadn't had anything to eat since Friday night. This was Saturday late night. She said there were 2 options: I could get out of the pool and labor through contractions letting them open my cervix up, or she could force it open as I was pushing during the next contraction.
Hmmmm.... Would you rather have your thumbnail or your big toenail ripped off?
I thought about it for a minute and decided to let her force it open. I had already been pushing for hours and didn't want to mentally or physically backtrack to just letting the contractions do their own work. It was too much of a relief to push. So the next contraction, as I pushed, she was using her fingers to force my cervix all the way around Roscoe's head.
It was still a while, but progress was made. I got out of the pool to push on the couch in different positions. Then once enough progress was made, I got back in the pool and pushed using more different positions. The water definitely eased the pain.
Elizabeth, Jenn, and Mark were all excellent in encouraging me and praising me for making progress. I didn't feel like I was because I couldn't see what was going on. But I hit a point where I was determined to get him out. I gave myself 3 contractions to get him to the point where he was crowing and I could see him. It worked. I looked down in the midst of hearing all the "excellent"s and "good job, anne marie"s to see the top of his head. I screamed "I can see him!!!!" and then the contractions kept coming stronger and closer. It was no time until I felt his head coming out. All at once, it literally popped out and she unwrapped the cord from his neck (this is a very common occurance in almost all babies). I gave it one more push for his shoulders to come out and suddenly the rest of him just slipped out of my body and I was being handed my little Roscoe. February 13, 2011. 12:20 am. Welcome, Roscoe Porter Grant.....
I don't think I cried. I was just in shock, as you can see from that bottom picture. I couldn't stop gasping and looking at that little face covered in that cheesy vernix. And the best part, Roscoe couldn't stop looking at me either. We sat there in the pool for 15 minutes maybe just looking at each other. Here's the little one that had been growing inside my body for 9 months, looking into my eyes. He knew who I was, I could tell by the way he stared. And Mark was right there with us the whole time. It was perfect.
I did have quite a bit of bleeding after the placenta was delivered. I got 2 shots of pitocin to combat it and it was followed by some sort of pill that I can't remember the name of. By the way, the placenta was HUGE. Enormous. At least I know I was giving him enough nutrients during the pregnancy :)
Mark bonding with his son while Elizabeth and Jenn tended to me.
Newborn exam
The measurement Mark is most proud of: the chest size. Forget length and weight. Roscoe came out with a 14.5 inch chest measurement. Elizabeth said the biggest she's seen is 15.
Getting the weight. 8 lbs 9 oz. 22.5 inches long.
So the reason for the complicated labor........... Roscoe came out posterior. Instead of his back facing out, his back was positioned toward my spine. So he had it backwards. Creating some terrible back labor. Also, instead of having his chin tucked into his chest, he was trying to look up as he was coming out. Consequently, I pushed for 3 hours and he had a gigantic bump on his head that looked like a tumor. The swelling went down that night but he has a bruise from it. These factors are what contributed to a labor that was looooong and really had no pattern.
But he's here. And yes, for the curious ones. Our future children will be born at home as well. Wouldn't trade homebirths or midwives for anything. They were incredible...
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
advice
One of the cool things about the baby shower this past Saturday was the table decorations. They were multi-functional. (I LOVE multi-functional things)
Not only were they beautiful, but they had blank pieces of paper pinned to the branches for the purpose of writing down little pieces of advice to me.
So I'm going to share some of my favorite pieces of advice from family and friends:
-- Remember that the days may be long, but the years are short! Follow your instincts-you know your baby! No matter what "the books" say
-- Remember that you had Mark first and make time for him. Roscoe will be fine if his parents stay in love!
-- Date night, date night, date night
-- My biggest advice ~ Enjoy Roscoe! Never feel guilty about "just" watching him sleep or "just" lying on the couch with him. Everything else will wait. The simple, everyday moments with Roscoe are in no way common, but moments of wonder that you'll treasure always
-- Be REAL-let him know that you are human, and make mistakes, but that God forgives.
-- Eventually, reverse psychology won't work
-- Read to Roscoe. Talk to him, telling him about everything! Even when he is tiny. Sing to him, hold him, pray with him, even when he is a newborn.
-- All toys come in pairs- One for Roscoe, one for Mark.
-- Never criticize how your husband takes care of Roscoe. He will be so much more willing to help you if you are accepting of how he does things, even if it is not how you do them.
Not only were they beautiful, but they had blank pieces of paper pinned to the branches for the purpose of writing down little pieces of advice to me.
So I'm going to share some of my favorite pieces of advice from family and friends:
-- Remember that the days may be long, but the years are short! Follow your instincts-you know your baby! No matter what "the books" say
-- Remember that you had Mark first and make time for him. Roscoe will be fine if his parents stay in love!
-- Date night, date night, date night
-- My biggest advice ~ Enjoy Roscoe! Never feel guilty about "just" watching him sleep or "just" lying on the couch with him. Everything else will wait. The simple, everyday moments with Roscoe are in no way common, but moments of wonder that you'll treasure always
-- Be REAL-let him know that you are human, and make mistakes, but that God forgives.
-- Eventually, reverse psychology won't work
-- Read to Roscoe. Talk to him, telling him about everything! Even when he is tiny. Sing to him, hold him, pray with him, even when he is a newborn.
-- All toys come in pairs- One for Roscoe, one for Mark.
-- Never criticize how your husband takes care of Roscoe. He will be so much more willing to help you if you are accepting of how he does things, even if it is not how you do them.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
little fears in the dark
Almost every night this week, I've woken up out of a peaceful sleep with the almost crippling fear that I'll go into labor without Mark here. We're so close to the end of his training, but the closer we get to it, the closer we get to Roscoe's due date. The anxiety that can create, even in an easy-going person, is intense.
Now it isn't like the world would end for us if this did happen. Hopefully I would have the sense to not ignore the signs thinking they'd disappear. That'd be a typical Anne Marie reaction. But I doubt Roscoe would care. Instead I'd call my midwife and let her in on what I'm feeling, find out if it's labor, and then immediately call Mark. He'd be on the way and then I'd call Mom to come over and hold my hand til he got here.
I just have in my mind the perfect picture that Mark comes home and I'm still pregnant. Very pregnant. And we get another date. We haul my big ole pregnant belly to a restaurant and enjoy each other's company one last time as just us before even giving a thought to "I wonder if the babysitter is having problems" or "Did Roscoe finish his bottle ok?" or "Gosh I hope he's not crying inconsolably right now."
It's funny-- once it's daylight and I'm up and around for the day, there are no problems or fears. Even if I think I feel the tiniest 'feeling' down there, it's almost a relief. Maybe I can call Mark and he can come home today and we can have this baby. Something about daytime makes the thought not quite as scary. As if I would be more in control of the situation if it started in the daylight. What is it about darkness and nighttime that brings out the little childlike fears in us?
I'm trying to turn my mind from dwelling on my own thoughts to dwelling on truth. And I'm talking Biblical truth, not scientific "truths." I don't want or need to hear stats on the fact that first time mothers rarely deliver early. That doesn't make my husband appear in bed beside me in the middle of the night. And it doesn't comfort me either. But truths-- like the fact that God already has a plan for me, and that whatever it is, it's good. Like the fact that God cares for me. He even cares about this petty little fear that wakes me up when it's dark.
Those truths don't make Mark appear out of nowhere either. But, oh, the comfort....
Now it isn't like the world would end for us if this did happen. Hopefully I would have the sense to not ignore the signs thinking they'd disappear. That'd be a typical Anne Marie reaction. But I doubt Roscoe would care. Instead I'd call my midwife and let her in on what I'm feeling, find out if it's labor, and then immediately call Mark. He'd be on the way and then I'd call Mom to come over and hold my hand til he got here.
I just have in my mind the perfect picture that Mark comes home and I'm still pregnant. Very pregnant. And we get another date. We haul my big ole pregnant belly to a restaurant and enjoy each other's company one last time as just us before even giving a thought to "I wonder if the babysitter is having problems" or "Did Roscoe finish his bottle ok?" or "Gosh I hope he's not crying inconsolably right now."
It's funny-- once it's daylight and I'm up and around for the day, there are no problems or fears. Even if I think I feel the tiniest 'feeling' down there, it's almost a relief. Maybe I can call Mark and he can come home today and we can have this baby. Something about daytime makes the thought not quite as scary. As if I would be more in control of the situation if it started in the daylight. What is it about darkness and nighttime that brings out the little childlike fears in us?
I'm trying to turn my mind from dwelling on my own thoughts to dwelling on truth. And I'm talking Biblical truth, not scientific "truths." I don't want or need to hear stats on the fact that first time mothers rarely deliver early. That doesn't make my husband appear in bed beside me in the middle of the night. And it doesn't comfort me either. But truths-- like the fact that God already has a plan for me, and that whatever it is, it's good. Like the fact that God cares for me. He even cares about this petty little fear that wakes me up when it's dark.
Those truths don't make Mark appear out of nowhere either. But, oh, the comfort....
Sunday, January 23, 2011
morning stretches
I've been taking full advantage of as much rest and sleep as possible this pregnancy. Partly because I feel like it's a good excuse to be lazy, but also because there have been too many moms encouraging me to. So when I say that I stayed in bed until 9:45, it's not to cause jealousy. Because believe me, I'm fully aware that I'm less than a month away from sleeping in 3 hour time increments.
One thing I'm loving right now--I think it's safe to say it's my favorite time of the day--is that time period in the morning when I'm awake but haven't started stirring yet, and I feel a little movement inside my belly. I'll be lying there with my eyes open for about 2 or 3 minutes, just enjoying the feeling of the warm covers and the daylight trying to peek through our curtains, not really thinking about anything in particular. And if I'm comfortable enough, my pregnant belly won't even be screaming out at me that it's in the way. Then Roscoe will start to stretch out a little and change positions. Why is it cute? Why does it make me smile?! (Now that's the BIG question, because no matter what time I wake up, nothing can really make me smile in the morning.) So I put my hand on my belly and enjoy the 30-45 seconds of my son finding a more comfortable position.
I can't wait for Mark to be able to feel it. Until then, it's nice having something all for me. I can't wait to meet this baby and share him with everyone who already loves him so much. I am so excited to see friends and family hold my child. But (this will sound selfish and I don't intend for it to) the one thing I don't have to share is the feeling the baby's sweet movements throughout the day. I look at it as one of those grace-given gifts from God to mothers. In the midst of all the pains and annoyances of pregnancy, there's those little things that make it all worthwhile.
I really, really, really can't wait to meet you, son.
One thing I'm loving right now--I think it's safe to say it's my favorite time of the day--is that time period in the morning when I'm awake but haven't started stirring yet, and I feel a little movement inside my belly. I'll be lying there with my eyes open for about 2 or 3 minutes, just enjoying the feeling of the warm covers and the daylight trying to peek through our curtains, not really thinking about anything in particular. And if I'm comfortable enough, my pregnant belly won't even be screaming out at me that it's in the way. Then Roscoe will start to stretch out a little and change positions. Why is it cute? Why does it make me smile?! (Now that's the BIG question, because no matter what time I wake up, nothing can really make me smile in the morning.) So I put my hand on my belly and enjoy the 30-45 seconds of my son finding a more comfortable position.
I can't wait for Mark to be able to feel it. Until then, it's nice having something all for me. I can't wait to meet this baby and share him with everyone who already loves him so much. I am so excited to see friends and family hold my child. But (this will sound selfish and I don't intend for it to) the one thing I don't have to share is the feeling the baby's sweet movements throughout the day. I look at it as one of those grace-given gifts from God to mothers. In the midst of all the pains and annoyances of pregnancy, there's those little things that make it all worthwhile.
I really, really, really can't wait to meet you, son.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
phase 2, get to work
We're halfway through Mark's training. He graduated from Phase 1 yesterday and will begin Phase 2 Monday. So with that comes crunch time for me. I've GOT to get Roscoe's room under control. I know we'll live if it's not completely ready by the time he's born, but there's still something inside me telling me to get off the computer and get things straightened up. Here's where it's at as of right now.
I have to begin with this. These guys seem to have worn out their good behavior on the first 3 weeks, in my opinion. It's actually probably not them. It's more my loss of patience. I'm sorry, dogs, but I just don't get excited about nothing like you do. When I get up to move from the computer to the bed to take a nap, I don't want or need you to jump all around me like I've just told you we're going for a ride. At any rate, when I got up this morning and started to clean some stuff up, the settled down like this, as if things were normal again and they could FINALLY take a good nap.
My mom and dad and father-in-law came over last week to help get the crib into the house and assembled. Yes, I asked for that help. Pat on the back, please?
A little apprehensive about this new piece of containment. It's almost like he thinks it'll be a punishment pen for him. Well, at least he hasn't done anything worth punishment since we assembled the crib.
And now for the current state of the baby's room. A few more pictures.....
Not too bad.... Yes, the crib is the current home for the exercise ball. Keeps it from rolling around!
Oops, sorry...... Sometimes Sherman wants to make his presence known. Yes, Sherman, we know you're in here...
Ahhhhh, beautiful mess. Keep it pilin' up.... Yes, those are Christmas ornaments. They never got put up in the attic and for some reason people don't want me climbing up a ladder and into the ceiling to put boxes away....
My dresser, also with all sorts of baby stuff thrown on top.
Well there's the pictures. So for anyone who asks "you have the baby room ready yet?"
No.
I have to begin with this. These guys seem to have worn out their good behavior on the first 3 weeks, in my opinion. It's actually probably not them. It's more my loss of patience. I'm sorry, dogs, but I just don't get excited about nothing like you do. When I get up to move from the computer to the bed to take a nap, I don't want or need you to jump all around me like I've just told you we're going for a ride. At any rate, when I got up this morning and started to clean some stuff up, the settled down like this, as if things were normal again and they could FINALLY take a good nap.
My mom and dad and father-in-law came over last week to help get the crib into the house and assembled. Yes, I asked for that help. Pat on the back, please?
A little apprehensive about this new piece of containment. It's almost like he thinks it'll be a punishment pen for him. Well, at least he hasn't done anything worth punishment since we assembled the crib.
And now for the current state of the baby's room. A few more pictures.....
Not too bad.... Yes, the crib is the current home for the exercise ball. Keeps it from rolling around!
Oops, sorry...... Sometimes Sherman wants to make his presence known. Yes, Sherman, we know you're in here...
Ahhhhh, beautiful mess. Keep it pilin' up.... Yes, those are Christmas ornaments. They never got put up in the attic and for some reason people don't want me climbing up a ladder and into the ceiling to put boxes away....
My dresser, also with all sorts of baby stuff thrown on top.
Well there's the pictures. So for anyone who asks "you have the baby room ready yet?"
No.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
RPG in 3D
As of right now I can't figure out how to capture the video of the ultrasound to post it on my blog. I'll have to get my computer savvy mom or father-in-law to see if they can somehow. It's about 25 minutes long, but I know there are some friends and family who live too far away who would love to see our little Roscoe...
Poor baby! He's so scrunched. He was head down, but apparently not happy with that position. Since Friday he has turned butt down, head up, and all his limbs are crammed in front of his face. I've got exercises I can do to correct his naughty behavior. And the chiropractor I'm going to visit later this week has never been unsuccessful in turning a breech baby. So I'm not too worried about it.
Hand in front of face, foot up at forehead. And look at that face!!!!! To quote my mother, "I could just mash him." (This is a southern compliment)
Forgive me for posting such obscene pictures on the internet, but this one should technically have been first. The very first thing Roscoe showed us was this little pair. I had been having those what if it's not a boy doubts recently. He flashed this up at the ultrasound tech within the first 45 seconds of the ultrasound as if to say how dare you insult my boyhood, mother
"yeah, my dad works out a lot, but he's got nuthin' on these guns!"
Kinda looks like he's sniffing his hand. Notice all the limbs in front of his face? Seriously, kid, you doing yogo in there?
Open mouth :) He's peeking out from behind his arm, I think.
Slightly open eyes.
Tiny little hand. He's got his 5 fingers!
He's cramped so it was hard to get a clear face shot, but this was the best we could do. Mark's mom squealed when we saw his face for the first time. She said it looked just like Mark's baby picture. I love it. He looks like a little old man.......sooooo cute.
Oh! Did I mention he has hair? There's a black and white picture of that. But I've got to run to work so there's no time to post it. I'll get that one up later.
Poor baby! He's so scrunched. He was head down, but apparently not happy with that position. Since Friday he has turned butt down, head up, and all his limbs are crammed in front of his face. I've got exercises I can do to correct his naughty behavior. And the chiropractor I'm going to visit later this week has never been unsuccessful in turning a breech baby. So I'm not too worried about it.
Hand in front of face, foot up at forehead. And look at that face!!!!! To quote my mother, "I could just mash him." (This is a southern compliment)
Forgive me for posting such obscene pictures on the internet, but this one should technically have been first. The very first thing Roscoe showed us was this little pair. I had been having those what if it's not a boy doubts recently. He flashed this up at the ultrasound tech within the first 45 seconds of the ultrasound as if to say how dare you insult my boyhood, mother
"yeah, my dad works out a lot, but he's got nuthin' on these guns!"
Open mouth :) He's peeking out from behind his arm, I think.
Slightly open eyes.
Tiny little hand. He's got his 5 fingers!
He's cramped so it was hard to get a clear face shot, but this was the best we could do. Mark's mom squealed when we saw his face for the first time. She said it looked just like Mark's baby picture. I love it. He looks like a little old man.......sooooo cute.
Oh! Did I mention he has hair? There's a black and white picture of that. But I've got to run to work so there's no time to post it. I'll get that one up later.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
planning stages for homebirth
I know that sometimes i come across harshly. I tend to be very cynical and uncompassionate in many areas. But it has never been my goal with my choice in homebirth to make any woman feel inferior if homebirth or midwives were not her choice in childbearing. Labor and delivery is just a small part of the experience in having children. It's not everything. And whether a baby is born in a birthing pool with no drugs, or by cesarean section, it makes no difference in the baby's beauty or the miracle of life.
We are now a little over a month away from our baby's due date and that has me researching even more than before and planning what methods to use in facilitating as peaceful a homebirth as is possible. I'm very excited about going through labor in the comfort of our own home. Our bed. Our lighting. Our privacy. As of right now the plan is to have a birthing pool in the living room (I told my midwives at our last appointment that if I believed in reincarnation, I'd consider myself a dolphin in a former life). I also have an exercise ball that we can use to ease the pain of contractions and help the baby move down.
But I'm currently struggling with trying to balance the desire to have this baby any time now with the fact that I can't want that. I need Mark here. I've been very relaxed the whole pregnancy and perfectly ok with the thought of baby coming early, but the military threw a wrench in that one with sending Mark away for some training. Yes, he would make it home in time if I went into labor. But that's not the way we want it to happen. If he comes home early, it just means he has to go back to finish the schooling. So we need and want him to stay put. But it's a lot harder than I thought it would be to keep myself from mentally "letting go" of the will to keep the baby in as long as possible (as if I'm in control of that anyway). This little guy is getting heavy. And he's now in the correct position for birth. And it just feels like if everything were normal, I'd be willing him to come any time in the next few weeks.
To those who are curious and asking that wretched question But what if he doesn't make it back in time and you're in labor?... Shame on you for making me acknowledge that question in writing. But I have an answer. My mom is Mark's stand-in. If I were to go into labor, Mark would be immediately contacted and probably driving back home before he realized he was actually driving back home, and my mom would come to my house and be my coach until he got here.
So that's the plan. And we don't know what will happen, but we rest in the fact that God does. We're trying not to place our hope in our own plans and desires, but in the fact that what God already has planned--whatever that may be-- is best. So now we wait and see.
2 more things.
My last appointment (Friday morning), Elizabeth pointed out to me the position of little Roscoe. I can locate his butt and back, and sometimes if I press on my belly just right, I can feel little bumps clustered together, making up elbows and knees and fists and such. He hasn't moved from that position yet. Last night I was lying in bed and he started moving around and stretching out. I placed my hand on the side of my belly and something pushed against it and backed away. Then he did it again. But as I pushed against him, he pushed against me and kept that body part pressed against my hand. I'm not calling myself an expert, but my mommy imagination likes to think that it was his hand pushed against mine and we sat there like that not budging for about 10 seconds. I broke out in the biggest smile. I can't believe that in a little over a month I will be able to hold his little hand in mine.
And to finish, a video I found this morning that made me cry. Something about this is just beautiful. Maybe it's the song, maybe it's her peacefulness in a homebirth of a 10 lb baby. Or it could be the fact that I'm close to experiencing what she's going through. Whatever it is, if you tear up you're in good company.
We are now a little over a month away from our baby's due date and that has me researching even more than before and planning what methods to use in facilitating as peaceful a homebirth as is possible. I'm very excited about going through labor in the comfort of our own home. Our bed. Our lighting. Our privacy. As of right now the plan is to have a birthing pool in the living room (I told my midwives at our last appointment that if I believed in reincarnation, I'd consider myself a dolphin in a former life). I also have an exercise ball that we can use to ease the pain of contractions and help the baby move down.
But I'm currently struggling with trying to balance the desire to have this baby any time now with the fact that I can't want that. I need Mark here. I've been very relaxed the whole pregnancy and perfectly ok with the thought of baby coming early, but the military threw a wrench in that one with sending Mark away for some training. Yes, he would make it home in time if I went into labor. But that's not the way we want it to happen. If he comes home early, it just means he has to go back to finish the schooling. So we need and want him to stay put. But it's a lot harder than I thought it would be to keep myself from mentally "letting go" of the will to keep the baby in as long as possible (as if I'm in control of that anyway). This little guy is getting heavy. And he's now in the correct position for birth. And it just feels like if everything were normal, I'd be willing him to come any time in the next few weeks.
To those who are curious and asking that wretched question But what if he doesn't make it back in time and you're in labor?... Shame on you for making me acknowledge that question in writing. But I have an answer. My mom is Mark's stand-in. If I were to go into labor, Mark would be immediately contacted and probably driving back home before he realized he was actually driving back home, and my mom would come to my house and be my coach until he got here.
So that's the plan. And we don't know what will happen, but we rest in the fact that God does. We're trying not to place our hope in our own plans and desires, but in the fact that what God already has planned--whatever that may be-- is best. So now we wait and see.
2 more things.
My last appointment (Friday morning), Elizabeth pointed out to me the position of little Roscoe. I can locate his butt and back, and sometimes if I press on my belly just right, I can feel little bumps clustered together, making up elbows and knees and fists and such. He hasn't moved from that position yet. Last night I was lying in bed and he started moving around and stretching out. I placed my hand on the side of my belly and something pushed against it and backed away. Then he did it again. But as I pushed against him, he pushed against me and kept that body part pressed against my hand. I'm not calling myself an expert, but my mommy imagination likes to think that it was his hand pushed against mine and we sat there like that not budging for about 10 seconds. I broke out in the biggest smile. I can't believe that in a little over a month I will be able to hold his little hand in mine.
And to finish, a video I found this morning that made me cry. Something about this is just beautiful. Maybe it's the song, maybe it's her peacefulness in a homebirth of a 10 lb baby. Or it could be the fact that I'm close to experiencing what she's going through. Whatever it is, if you tear up you're in good company.
Friday, January 7, 2011
it's like having the strength of 10 men
One thing that you hear a lot about but can never fully understand until you experience it is nesting. You hear of women doing drastic rearrangements to the house and such while their husbands are at work and your first thought is Why not just wait for him to get home to help you? Is is that important?
Yes. Yes it is.
That being said, here's my first over-the-top, couldn't-control-the-urge nesting story.
We have an antique organ that a friend gave to us that has been sitting in our living room. However, the living room is too small for both that and the woodstove that we so desperately want to hook up. Before Mark left last weekend, he was going to rearrange some things for us (consolidate books, get rid of the bookshelf, move the organ to its place, voila). It didn't get done because the weekend was way too busy. No big deal, thought I. Someone in the family could come over and help things get moved around later in the week.
No.
It was Tuesday, and as I stood in the living room deciding what to do with my evening, the OVERWHELMING urge to get the organ OUT of the living room came over me. Don't take it lightly when I say OVERWHELMING. Before I even thought twice about it, I had all the books off the bookshelf and that space clear. I took off the top piece of the organ and began sliding towels underneath the rest so it could slide easily on the hardwoods. Success. Organ in place. This is the picture I sent to Mark (somehow I thought he'd be as excited as I was).
Reply from Mark: "how'd that get there?"
Now I can't say this popped my bubble, but for some reason I wasn't sensing any sort of excitement from his end. "I....uh... Moved it." No response.
Later in the evening we were talking and he asked me (very kindly) to be careful not to end up in labor over something like this. His next question sounded rhetorical, like he felt stupid for even asking it: "You didn't move the woodstove, did you?" ......... "Well......"
Come on, everybody, it was only 5 ft.
Yes. Yes it is.
That being said, here's my first over-the-top, couldn't-control-the-urge nesting story.
We have an antique organ that a friend gave to us that has been sitting in our living room. However, the living room is too small for both that and the woodstove that we so desperately want to hook up. Before Mark left last weekend, he was going to rearrange some things for us (consolidate books, get rid of the bookshelf, move the organ to its place, voila). It didn't get done because the weekend was way too busy. No big deal, thought I. Someone in the family could come over and help things get moved around later in the week.
No.
It was Tuesday, and as I stood in the living room deciding what to do with my evening, the OVERWHELMING urge to get the organ OUT of the living room came over me. Don't take it lightly when I say OVERWHELMING. Before I even thought twice about it, I had all the books off the bookshelf and that space clear. I took off the top piece of the organ and began sliding towels underneath the rest so it could slide easily on the hardwoods. Success. Organ in place. This is the picture I sent to Mark (somehow I thought he'd be as excited as I was).
Reply from Mark: "how'd that get there?"
Now I can't say this popped my bubble, but for some reason I wasn't sensing any sort of excitement from his end. "I....uh... Moved it." No response.
Later in the evening we were talking and he asked me (very kindly) to be careful not to end up in labor over something like this. His next question sounded rhetorical, like he felt stupid for even asking it: "You didn't move the woodstove, did you?" ......... "Well......"
Come on, everybody, it was only 5 ft.
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