Parenting is hard enough without having to worry about taking out the trash, grocery shopping, sweeping, cleaning bathtubs, folding and putting away laundry, and cooking. There isn't always a lot to show for my efforts, at least when it comes to the aesthetics of my house. All of it is daunting most of the time. I've had days and even weeks when depression creeps in. I always say, "tomorrow" or "next week" I will finally do X, Y, and Z. Sometimes I have a few days where I actually accomplish X, Y, and Z. More often than not, I do not. But what's important is that I am trying to get back on the horse again. Having just one week, or heck just one day of accomplishing my little goals is better than nothing!
I'm approximately half way through my pregnancy. I dare not give specifics on a due date so as to not get pesky texts or messages of "Is the baby here yet" or to get myself stuck on a particular day. But anyway, approximately half way til ANOTHER mouth, butt, and body (and of course precious blessing) joins our family. In some ways it will mean slowing down because when you're the food source you can't be hustle and bustling around the house or town. It will also mean more laundry and less time to do it. The same mess that our family makes with less time. More of everything with less time and likely less energy. Thankfully I am realizing that the way things are going right now won't bode well for my emotional well-being. I am trying SOOOOOO hard to somehow begin to resume control of the chaos so I can feel better about welcoming our new bundle of joy into our home without fear and anxiety.
I have set some pretty big goals. And I do realize that I need to break them into smaller goals so I can actually attain what I set out to do. Here they are:
1) Prepare meals to freeze for when the baby comes. Right now 5 seems like a manageable number.
2) Decide what we will eat for each week. Currently I have the next two weeks planned.
3) If I have my meals planned for the week I hope to set aside 1 day during that week to make the meals and freeze them. It may make for a tricky day, but I think would be worth the trouble and effort.
4) Return to my "rule of 15s." Basically this means take 15 minutes each day to do a surface cleaning of a designated area.
5) Don't let more than 1 load of laundry pile up. I also need to have a set place where I do the laundry. Maybe it would also help if I kept laundry separate rather than doing everyone's together.
6) PURGE! This is much easier said than done. For example I have 6 or 7 Monopoly games that I bought on sale while I was teaching. It was a great tool to have. Do I get rid of all of them but 1? But what if I go back to teach and no longer have the games? I guess I could always borrow.
7) I would also love to have a little bit of structure to my day with the girls: 1 activity (could be as simple as coloring)
So there you have it.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Grumblings
Started my morning by not turning on the computer. I tidied up in the kitchen. In between responding to Evie's inquries, laughing at Lucy's faces, and making breakfast for the 3 of us I chatted a bit with God. I even made it a point to read a devotion from the book "Ordinary Mom, Extraordinary God." I knew I needed Him as my source. Yet by late afternoon I found myself growing more impatient with my girls. I raised my voice over absurd things. Evie just kept on keeping on, laughing and asking questions. While reading a book about eyes to Evie, with her snuggled on my lap, I began to cry. I don't know why. Everything is running rather smoothly. Granted I guess there are somethings in the works right now, and some things I'm coming down from: Taylor has an interview in Houston this Friday, we are flirting with following-through with a dream of opening a store, TFA All-Corps just finished, unfinished orders with Inspired by Evelyn, and running a household. It must be weighing on my mind more than I realize. I think I could use a break for sure.
So I began this post about God and then went into a somewhat chaotic ramble. I guess my point in that is that while making time in the morning was good, it kind of stopped somewhere around 8:30am. It picked back up again around 9am as I was singing along with K-love in the car. But then the remainder of the day the songs of praise and worship eventually just became white noise. He has provided these open doors and opportunities and he has provided the means to follow these through should I/we choose to purse them. So I am quite thankful. It's still a lot to process. I am still tired. I am still overwhelmed. I will still probably take my St John's Wart, for which I am thankful! The conversations and grumblings with God need to continue throughout the day.
So I began this post about God and then went into a somewhat chaotic ramble. I guess my point in that is that while making time in the morning was good, it kind of stopped somewhere around 8:30am. It picked back up again around 9am as I was singing along with K-love in the car. But then the remainder of the day the songs of praise and worship eventually just became white noise. He has provided these open doors and opportunities and he has provided the means to follow these through should I/we choose to purse them. So I am quite thankful. It's still a lot to process. I am still tired. I am still overwhelmed. I will still probably take my St John's Wart, for which I am thankful! The conversations and grumblings with God need to continue throughout the day.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
McDonalds and God
right now I'm feeling a bit lowsy as a mother. Two days ago I prepared a meal early enough in the day so we could enjoy it for dinner. There was plenty, so it would last us at least through Saturday. I have also been money conscious, one way by not eating out whenever. So then what have I don't to make me feel lowsy? Two days in a row of McDonalds. Ugh! It's not a proud moment. I'm not really even sure why I did it, especially with food waiting at home. So this morning I felt like I needed to get up with my alarm set of my phone, not by my usual alarm-my kids. I needed to spend time alone in the morning to regroup, to have some quiet and alone time to sit in God's presence. Man, how easy it is to get wrapped up in other things. I read through two devotions. With each one i had this feeling of "I need to finish so I can get on with my day." Doesn't it seem that rushing through my quiet time perhaps somewhat defeats the purpose of it all? I know that's not true, but what am I worried I will miss out on? Why is it so difficult to just "be?"I felt like I needed that time to get things back on course. I guess the key thing here is to just give it up to God. Or let go and let God, as the saying goes. Unless I do, it's gonna keep festering. Eating fast food two days in a row is not a healthy decision. I know this. God has to take care of it. Cutting short quiet time with God wasn't ideal. But as I said, I just need to let these things go. It won't do me any good to let them sit and fester. God is understanding, loving, and kind. Unlike us, God will take what he can get. I suppose I just need to pray for more 1 minute times with him and wisdom and strength to nourish my family the best way I can.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
on the count of three let's move heaven and earth!
What came first, the chicken or the egg? In a marriage what comes first, taking care of the husband so he will take care of you or vice versa? We all know the saying "Happy wife, happy life," or "If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." So then why can't they just make us happy? If only it were that simple. I know there are many times that I'm just waiting for my husband to do just that one thing for me and then i would move heaven and earth for him. But I would venture a guess that my husband is waiting for ME to do just that one thing and then he would move heaven and earth for me. We are both willing to move heaven and earth for each other, but not until something is done for each of us. Is there a way to get rid of whatever that thing is that preceeds moving heaven and earth? It seems to just get in the way, cause a lot of strife, and possibly lead to too many sips (or chugs) of wine! Can't it be as simple as "on the count of three let's move heaven and earth for each other...1-2-3!" Then there is no feeling of "what about me?"
I have no wise words. I am actually thinking I may try the "on the count of 3" approach. What can it hurt?
I have no wise words. I am actually thinking I may try the "on the count of 3" approach. What can it hurt?
Thursday, February 23, 2012
The rule of 15s
I am slowly starting to live by what I call "The rule of 15s." I first got the idea from my oldest sister, Thawivann, when she came to help when Lucy was born. Spending nearly a week in my house she found all different ways to organize my house, and brainstormed suggestions to help me maintain order with two little girls. She organized my utensil drawers into categories and then placed them in their own containers. They are still in the same containers with the labels she created. =) So anyway, the rule of 15s. The name is something I made up, but it was inspired by her. She suggested that each day or evening I spend x amount of time picking up toys, x amount cleaning up clutter, and so on. Each alloted time period was no longer than 10 minutes. Her thinking behind this is that the house would be able to maintain some order, and at least at the start of the day we would have a fresh start.
It took a while for us to implement this idea. In the fall when I was watching Stella I tended to do this tidying up at the beginning of the day. Let me tell you, as someone who has occassional bouts of depression, beginning the day having to clean from the day before does very little to keep depression at-bay. By early winter I decided to do the cleaning at night. It is very easy for me to get out of hand, once I actually decide to start cleaning. Taylor is always willing to help, but he needs some focus. So I decided to set a timer, we started out at 12 minutes. We would clean for 12 minutes. When the timer went off we could do whatever we wanted. Having a timer really helps get your butt in gear. Taylor and I are both easily distracted, perhaps him more than me, but having a time limit, and a short one at that, made it easier to stay focused, because we knew we didn't have the stay the course that long.
I tell you, it makes a world of difference to come down the stairs in the morning to a de-cluttered living area. Now I'm sure if anyone else were to come over in the morning they may not appreciate the "cleanliness or declutter." But for us, it's clean and liveable. So, the rule of 15's: spending time in 15 minute increments cleaning. Until recently I really just applied this "rule" to nightt
ime. But now I am going to try to apply it a second time during the day. I recently found a blog in which a mom said you could keep a house clean by spending only 15-20 minutes a day. I'm all about clean, but in a way that requires very little of my time. So you know I was all about reading what she had to say. Essentially you pick a part of your house or a particular chore and spend 15 minutes on it. Everyday is something different. Basically this is how I have applied "the rule of 15s" to the rest of my day: day 1) upstairs bathroom, 15 minutes. day 2) downstairs bathroom, 15 minutes day 3) tidy TV room Day 4) tidy Evie and our bedroom Day 5) vacuum upstairs Day 6) tidy Lulu's room Day 7) mop downstairs. Every day only spending 15, 20 minutes tops. This is something I can do. Eventually I may add dusting. I did not include sweeping downstairs, I tend to do this anyway at least 2 times a day.
ime. But now I am going to try to apply it a second time during the day. I recently found a blog in which a mom said you could keep a house clean by spending only 15-20 minutes a day. I'm all about clean, but in a way that requires very little of my time. So you know I was all about reading what she had to say. Essentially you pick a part of your house or a particular chore and spend 15 minutes on it. Everyday is something different. Basically this is how I have applied "the rule of 15s" to the rest of my day: day 1) upstairs bathroom, 15 minutes. day 2) downstairs bathroom, 15 minutes day 3) tidy TV room Day 4) tidy Evie and our bedroom Day 5) vacuum upstairs Day 6) tidy Lulu's room Day 7) mop downstairs. Every day only spending 15, 20 minutes tops. This is something I can do. Eventually I may add dusting. I did not include sweeping downstairs, I tend to do this anyway at least 2 times a day. So "the rule of 15s" applies not just to cleaning but also to working out. Let's be realistic, I won't make it to the gym very often. But I can spend 15 minutes (not much, I know) doing some kind of working out. I recently downloaded apps on our kindle for free leg, arm, cardio, and abs work outs. The workouts can be as short as 5 minutes and it's a video, so I am doing it with someone else. I can do 5 minute increments. It ain't much, I'll be the first to admit that, but I gotta start somewhere.
In order to help me maintain "the rule of 15s" I created a dry-erase goals and menu board in my kitchen. I plan out each week what my cleaning 15s will be each day, other goals that I have for the day, and I plan to also map out what I will eat (from morning til night, including snacks). For someone who is trying to either lose or maintain their weight I have found that one of the biggest road blocks is not knowing what to eat. Planning it out prevents over eating, eating the wrong thing, or at times not eating enough. I also think that by planning the week's meals out I can better manage our monthly budget for groceries.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Weight Watcher Meal Planning Part 1, on a budget
I am trying to be get back on track when it comes to shopping with a budget, meal planning, and weight watchers. I've found some great meal planning tools on pintrest, some are very involved.
http://clairsfairytale.blogspot.com/2012/01/ultimate-menu-board.html and http://robbygurlscreations.blogspot.com/2011/05/asian-recipes.html. If I want to stay on the WWs train then I need to pick my recipes, rather than just follow what these girls came up with. Also, my budget is different from theirs.
So I have created a word document and I am making recipe cards. I am going through my WWs cook book and copying the recipes and making changes to the recipes based on our budget, what we typically eat, and changes I usually like to make to the meals. Many of the recipes I go from memory. So I could potentially just put the name of the recipe, but I thought I would include all the information so it could be helpful to others and to help me stay the course with WWs!
This is so time consuming. I've been doing it for over an hour and I only have 10 recipes. My hope is to do all of the recipes that we typically eat. And then I will most likely organize them by category, and then I will create my menu board. Doing all of this should help reduce or at least help control our food budget. One of the keys to not over spending on food is to go to the store a minimal amount of times.
Something else I need to work on with meal planning is thinking beyond just a main dish. Typically the side is an afterthought, if I even have one. It needs to be simple. It would be nice if it's something other than a salad. I do typically have a variety of veggies on hand (broccoli, asparagus, etc) and it's usually easy to roast or steam.
It's after 11pm and I should be in bed. There is still much work to be done on the meal planning. I mean business about this, so I should be back tomorrow to give an update of what I've accomplished! You know what would be great...if I could also include the price of everything. That's a little ambitious. I think for now I should stick to making my recipe cards and then my menu board. The creation of the menu board should be fun as it will entail creativity.
http://clairsfairytale.blogspot.com/2012/01/ultimate-menu-board.html and http://robbygurlscreations.blogspot.com/2011/05/asian-recipes.html. If I want to stay on the WWs train then I need to pick my recipes, rather than just follow what these girls came up with. Also, my budget is different from theirs.
So I have created a word document and I am making recipe cards. I am going through my WWs cook book and copying the recipes and making changes to the recipes based on our budget, what we typically eat, and changes I usually like to make to the meals. Many of the recipes I go from memory. So I could potentially just put the name of the recipe, but I thought I would include all the information so it could be helpful to others and to help me stay the course with WWs!
This is so time consuming. I've been doing it for over an hour and I only have 10 recipes. My hope is to do all of the recipes that we typically eat. And then I will most likely organize them by category, and then I will create my menu board. Doing all of this should help reduce or at least help control our food budget. One of the keys to not over spending on food is to go to the store a minimal amount of times.
Something else I need to work on with meal planning is thinking beyond just a main dish. Typically the side is an afterthought, if I even have one. It needs to be simple. It would be nice if it's something other than a salad. I do typically have a variety of veggies on hand (broccoli, asparagus, etc) and it's usually easy to roast or steam.
It's after 11pm and I should be in bed. There is still much work to be done on the meal planning. I mean business about this, so I should be back tomorrow to give an update of what I've accomplished! You know what would be great...if I could also include the price of everything. That's a little ambitious. I think for now I should stick to making my recipe cards and then my menu board. The creation of the menu board should be fun as it will entail creativity.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
A mother and a crafter!
Since I decided not just to pin what I find on pintrest, but to also create, I've been busy busy! So inbetween changing diapers, nursing, playing, talking with my husband, and making meals I've created quite a bit. And now for your viewing pleasure =)
This is an old t-shirt that I turned into leggings. 1 shirt made two pair, one for Evie and one for Lucy. This pair featured is Lucy's. This set of pants was my first attempt, so the legs are too long and the butt isn't big enough. Evie was excited to try on he
r "special" pants. The butt part covered half of hers and when she moved they fell. I think putting in elastic will help with that. For all you History Day people out there, does the fabric look familiar? I definitely need to make a new pattern. I took a pair of the girls' leggings and traced it on a paper bag. I didn't do it right, thus the problem with disproportion. But not a bad start!
After I made the pants I moved onto pee-tee-pees. I've been wanting to make these for a while. I had considered buying an in the, hoop design for the embroidery machine. I'm glad I didn't, wouldn't really have been worth the money. These things were pretty easy to make. The hardest part was the drawstring bag. This is a great way to use my fabric scraps! Right now they are made of flannel and cotton. I may toy with doing it with terry cloth, but I'll have to ask moms of boys if that would be good.
The last thing I finished working on today were cloth wipes. These things have been hanging over me for months. Done, finally! I did neutral, boy, and girl patterns. I will be taking them to Angel Britches Friday, a local cloth diapering boutique. Hoping for sales!
This is an old t-shirt that I turned into leggings. 1 shirt made two pair, one for Evie and one for Lucy. This pair featured is Lucy's. This set of pants was my first attempt, so the legs are too long and the butt isn't big enough. Evie was excited to try on he
r "special" pants. The butt part covered half of hers and when she moved they fell. I think putting in elastic will help with that. For all you History Day people out there, does the fabric look familiar? I definitely need to make a new pattern. I took a pair of the girls' leggings and traced it on a paper bag. I didn't do it right, thus the problem with disproportion. But not a bad start!After I made the pants I moved onto pee-tee-pees. I've been wanting to make these for a while. I had considered buying an in the, hoop design for the embroidery machine. I'm glad I didn't, wouldn't really have been worth the money. These things were pretty easy to make. The hardest part was the drawstring bag. This is a great way to use my fabric scraps! Right now they are made of flannel and cotton. I may toy with doing it with terry cloth, but I'll have to ask moms of boys if that would be good.
The last thing I finished working on today were cloth wipes. These things have been hanging over me for months. Done, finally! I did neutral, boy, and girl patterns. I will be taking them to Angel Britches Friday, a local cloth diapering boutique. Hoping for sales!Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Valentines
Having kids, particularly as close together as mine are, is exhausting! BUT, they have so much fun together (when Evie isn't trying to ride Lucy or bit her back (as of recently) and they make me laugh. As soon as Evie wakes she asks for "Lulu." It's sweet.
This morning, while Lucy was napping, Evie and I got into the pain together. i have to admit, I didn't let her have full reign. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the clean up. But she seemed just fine having one container open at a time. In fact, it didn't take long for her to not open o
ne before closing the other. It drove me a little crazy how she dipped a large part of the paintbrush in the paint. Would some say I was too controlling of her artistic experience? Probably. But I keep telling myself I am the perfect mother for my children, and they are the perfect children for me. Evie had fun and that's what matters. Later in the day I put corny valentine phrases on her pictures and I addressed envelopes for all her cousins and grandparents, and of course her daddy. I gave it to her and told her to 
give it to daddy, she lit up. When Taylor walked in she said, "here daddy. evie's hands." We put it on the wall and put another on the fridge. She was thrilled and kept walking over to the fridge saying "evie's hands. evie did it." So really, does it matter how "controlling" I was? I think not.
ne before closing the other. It drove me a little crazy how she dipped a large part of the paintbrush in the paint. Would some say I was too controlling of her artistic experience? Probably. But I keep telling myself I am the perfect mother for my children, and they are the perfect children for me. Evie had fun and that's what matters. Later in the day I put corny valentine phrases on her pictures and I addressed envelopes for all her cousins and grandparents, and of course her daddy. I gave it to her and told her to 
give it to daddy, she lit up. When Taylor walked in she said, "here daddy. evie's hands." We put it on the wall and put another on the fridge. She was thrilled and kept walking over to the fridge saying "evie's hands. evie did it." So really, does it matter how "controlling" I was? I think not.The other thing I have to report that Evie did was that she got a hold of small paper plates the other evening and
set the table. I think she was talking to someone imaginary, just like I do when I do housework. She then proceeded to scoop rice off her own plate onto the other plates on the table. Then she came to me and asked for my rice. I knew she had stopped eating so I said no, but I had not realized what she had done with her rice until much later in the evening when I was cleaning up from the day. All I could do was laugh. My little hostess.
Last night I did my first project that I found on pintrest: reusable swiffer cloth. I showed it to Melissa. She says it's too complicated and I should simplify it in case I want to sell it. Is it wrong that just about every craft I choose to do is determined by whether or not I think I can sell it? Anyway, here's a picture of the s
wiffer cloth. Don't judge me. I was not going for pretty points, just trying to get the thing made. And after 1 or 2 uses it's going to nasty anyway, so does it really matter?
wiffer cloth. Don't judge me. I was not going for pretty points, just trying to get the thing made. And after 1 or 2 uses it's going to nasty anyway, so does it really matter?Monday, February 13, 2012
pintrest and birth control, there's no cohesion
I discovered pintrest last night! Hours of browsing and pinning made for a very late night! I found all sorts of cool crafty things for me to do myself and with the girls. But that's just what I've been doing as of late, simply gathering ideas. Today I decided to actually put those ideas into action! I finally made cloth wipes that have been hanging over me since Thanksgiving! What a relief! I just got finished making a reusable swiffer wipe, a pintrest idea. (I'm not with it enough to have pictures to correspond, plus putting pictures on here drives me crazy!)
The last few days I had some things to write but I couldn't muster the energy to do it. Tonight, I mustered up the energy but my brain feels like mush!
So I'm watching the Daily Show right now and he just brought up the "contraceptive controversy." If I understand it correctly now insurance will cover birth control? It's about damn time! If people don't want to keep supporting families who are unable to make ends meet then perhaps they should be willing to support their choice to limit the size of their family to one that each family can support themselves. Birth control is expensive, but babies are much more expensive! Would the government, insurance, companies be willing to provide a few bucks for birth control or several hundreds/thousands for another baby (maternity leave, drs, etc).
The last few days I had some things to write but I couldn't muster the energy to do it. Tonight, I mustered up the energy but my brain feels like mush!
So I'm watching the Daily Show right now and he just brought up the "contraceptive controversy." If I understand it correctly now insurance will cover birth control? It's about damn time! If people don't want to keep supporting families who are unable to make ends meet then perhaps they should be willing to support their choice to limit the size of their family to one that each family can support themselves. Birth control is expensive, but babies are much more expensive! Would the government, insurance, companies be willing to provide a few bucks for birth control or several hundreds/thousands for another baby (maternity leave, drs, etc).
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Lucy's Birth Story. A triumphant VBAC!
Preface:
When I was pregnant with Evelyn her due date was a Monday. I
stopped teaching the Friday before and that night I went into labor. Working up until the due date was definitely
helpful as it preoccupied my mind and I was not counting down the days. I took off 2 weeks before my EDD with Lucy
and that was tough. I thought I would go
into labor the day I stopped work, because that’s what happened with Evie. I’m glad I didn’t. I kept thinking when I finish her quilt maybe
she will come. Maybe when I clean the
bathrooms the baby will come. The
weekend before my due date was the super moon and I was thinking maybe now the
baby will come. So I stocked up on my
labor snacks and made my affirmations.
No baby. At my 39 week appt with
Dickerson on Monday he informed me that he would be out of town Thursday and
Friday for a family event in Dallas. My
husband was working nights part of the week.
Sherri was attending the Preserving Natural Birth Conference in
Lafayette. So if the baby would come on
the EDD, March 23, I had it worked out to the hours of the day on particular
days it would need to happen in order to make sure Dickerson was in town,
Taylor would not be returning from a 12 hour shift through the night, and
Sherri would be able to go to the conference.
To add to that my parents were coming into town on Sunday (March
27). And while there was no expectation
from them that a baby be there, they live in Ohio and it would have been great
for them to see their newest grandchild.
Lucy waited to make her arrival Monday, the day after my parents
arrived, the day I would have my stress test with Dickerson, and Sherri got to
attend the conference. In fact my
contractions started picking up an hour before my husband had to go into
work. My little Lucy knew when the
perfect time would be to make her appearance!
Expecting around the same time as a good friend (Melissa)
was a blessing and a curse. Everyday we
talked about our “progress.” She
definitely had more evident progress than me, I was definitely happy for her,
especially since she had an earlier due date than me, but it was still
difficult. When Sage arrived I was happy
for her, but I wanted to know when our baby would arrive.
The last few weeks were a bit of a mental battle for me, if
you couldn’t already tell. It was
helpful that at the last few appointments with Dickerson he didn’t put a
deadline on things. I didn’t feel like
he was pushing me into a corner. But I
knew that the further I got from the EDD that having a successful VBAC would
become challenging: increased size, harder baby’s head, etc. But I didn’t want to do anything to make
labor happen. The last thing I wanted
was a repeat of my labor with evelyn.
Let the Story Begin…
March 27: Around 8pm or soI started having contractions. They were coming within at least 20 minutes
of each other, so I thought I may as well time them. But I decided I wouldn’t put too much stock
into any of it. They didn’t last
incredibly long, maybe 20-40 seconds and they weren’t really much to “write
home” about. I think around 10ish I
decided I should probably head to bed, even if the contractions continued I
knew I would be able to sleep through them and I knew that would be the best
thing for me. They did continue through
the night but they weren’t really that strong enough to wake me, but I think I
must have known I was having them.
Around 1 I got up to use the bathroom, I had lost my mucous plug and had
some bloody show. A few days earlier I
had some light blood but this time things seemed a bit more realand I had a
sense that things were going to happen soon, but again I knew I should go back
to bed. Then at 2:30 things started to
pick up a bit more. I couldn’t really
sleep through them anymore, I’m not sure it was because they were painful but
because I was excited. I turned the stop
watch on, grabbed my labor notepad and began recording the contractions. Taylor was beginning to stir around 3am
because he would be getting up soon for work.
He was given strict instructions not to move in bed because it made the
contractions harder with all that moving around. In between contractions we discussed whether
or not he should call into work. At
3:45, 15 minutes before he would need to leave he made the decision to call in,
thankfully. He asked if we should call
Sherri and I thought it best to get a longer pattern of contractions to make
sure it was the real deal and wait til a more suitable hour. I rotated between the toilet, the edge of the
bed, and laying down. Everywhere I went
I carried my water bottle, crossword, labor notebook, and phone. At some point I decided to grab the ball and
I set myself up at the edge of the bed with Taylor sitting on an ottoman
applying counter pressure to my back. Every
several contractions I stood up to do my stretches Dr. Cathy recommended to
release tension in my back. That helped
tremendously.
A 6am I made the decision to call Sherri. I explained that I had bloody show, lost my
plug, and had been timing my contractions since around 2:30, they were about
4-5 minutes apart and lasting between 45 seconds to a minute. I had two contractions mid conversation and
was unable to talk, so it was evident that they were relatively strong. Somewhere I think it got lost in translation
that I had contractions through the night.
Once that got cleared up she made her way over to our house.
The three of us spent the next hour in our bedroom, Taylor
applying counter pressure and Sherri gently touching me in various places as a
reminder to relax my body. But she
commented that I was doing a great job of keeping my body relaxed or at the
very least releasing tension when she touched a particular spot. In between contractions I was compiling two
lists: last minute things to put into our suitcase and things to remember to
tell my mom about Evelyn. At this time I
also remember explaining to Sherri why this was perfect timing: my parents flew
in from Cleveland the night before, she was able to attend the preserving
natural birth conference in Lafayette, Dickerson could be with his family,
Taylor had a full night’s sleep, I would get to miss my doctor’s appointment
and the stress test, and Dickerson would already be at the hospital since it
was the work week. Man, did my baby have
everything worked out. Sherri said she
also had a sense that Monday would be the day as well.
As the time neared 7am Sherri commented that I was burping a
lot and my contractions were getting shorter, and I was also nauseaus. Apparently all signs that I was entering
transition. She thought it would be wise
to begin thinking about heading to the hospital so we could avoid a Chinese
fire drill at the hospital while in transition.
I told Taylor to call the assessment center and insist they begin getting
a tub ready and to call Dickerson, because that’s what my charts said to
do. We then headed down the stairs, and
there I was greeted by my mom, dad, and Evelyn eating breakfast. My folks both said, “this couldn’t have been
more perfect timing.” Seconds before
walking out the door I threw-up. I was
convinced that I would arrive at the hospital at least 7cm if not more, and
ready for the baby to arrive. I’m
thankful Woman’s is only a mile or two away because the trip was less than
ideal. It felt like we had to wait an
eternity to turn into the parking lot!
I proceeded to walk to the reception desk to work through a
contraction. I’m sure the old woman
meant well but she kept asking me to sign in mid-contraction. Umm…hello?
Taylor informed them we had called in already and that we were to skip
the assessment center and go right up to labor and delivery (little white lie
never hurt anyone). The next thing I
knew I was in the little receiving room, they wanted me to fill out paper work. For real?
Dickerson met us down there and explained all the rooms were full but
one big enough for a tub should be ready for us in 30 minutes, so we would hang
out in the assessment center. Shortly
after we left we were instructed to go upstairs. Sherri and I were both confused, but we did
as we were told. As we exited the
elevator the nurse on the 2nd floor looked just as puzzled and
sherri and I both felt. “You’re not
supposed to be up here for another 30 minutes, we don’t have a room ready for
you.” Sherri responded, “that’s what we
thought, but they sent us up here.” So
we made our way back down stairs and the nurses in the assessment center gave
us a bit of a hard time for disappearing on them.
Once inside a room the nurse checked me. “You’re three centimeters, maybe I can fit
one more finger there. Your baby is way
up there. And your bag is bulging.” Wow lady, thanks for the encouragement. Needless to say I was discouraged. I thought I was displaying signs of
transition at my house. And after 30+
hours of labor with Evelyn I only made it to 4cm. I was trying not to cry or let it play with my mind too much because
I figured my mind could be my best friend or worst enemy. Of course she checked me on my back and of
course a contraction came. I cried out
to Taylor to help roll me to my side. The
nurse wouldn’t let me get off the bed while I was being monitored and she said
there was cause for concern because the baby’s heart tone’s “dropped” to
112. Once she left I asked Taylor and
Sherri to set me up on the ball. And
wouldn’t you know the heart tones got right back to normal. I knew 112 wasn’t something to be of concern
but I’m glad it got the nurse out of there.
Finally the time came to make our way up to my room. The aid refused to let me go upstairs without
pants on and not in the wheel chair.
That was not about to happen. So
please her I said if I put pants on under this gown can I walk, she asked for
permission and we were on our way.
Although she didn’t seem all that pleased to have to stop periodically
for me to ride out a contraction and neither will she be getting an award for
encouragement!
We were told that the tub would be set up by the time we got
up to the room. It was good thing I was
only 3cm because there wasn’t even a tub in the room. Needless to say my first hour or two at
Woman’s was less than impressive! The
nurse put in the heplock for the first round of IVs because I was GBS positive
and wanted to get heart tones. I
questioned the necessity of this as I was just on monitors not 3 minutes
prior. I also made her confirm several
times that I could be mobile or submersed in water with the monitor. I must say that I did a pretty good job of
advocating for myself. I’m sure I was
also coming across as a bitch but I wanted to make sure they knew what I wanted. Things were not very calm in the first hour I
was in the room, 3 nurses and Sherri were working to set up the tub and I was
hooked up to a monitor and an IV pole. I
just wanted to start focusing on the labor.
Once the monitors came off we decided to walk the halls, it
was just easier that way. Sherri had her
Doppler, so she could check me at any point anyway. One of the first things we heard in the halls
was shouting, “PUSH! PUSH! HARD!” Sherri
leaned over to me and said, “That will be you soon, but it won’t sound like
that.” All three of us were surprised by
how many people stopped to ask if I was ok.
I could hear a bit of annoyance in Sherri’s response, “She’s in labor
she is just having a contraction.”
Another nurse thought I was a visitor and again we informed her that I
was in labor. Another nurse reprimanded
us for being in the halls and insisted we get into my room. We let her know we would clear the halls once
this contraction stopped. It was evident
to me that the staff was not used to people actually experiencing labor.
Once we were back in the room I spent some time on the ball
which was fantastic! It felt great to be
supported but still feel like I was letting gravity do its thing. At one point Dickerson had one of the nurses
bring in the birthing stool. I tried
that for a contraction or two and that was it.
It was too hard and provided too much pressure. The next time the stool came in handy was as
a foot rest while I was on the toilet!
Periodically Taylor asked Sherri if I could get into the tub, and I
think I kept telling him I’m not ready for it or I don’t want it. Several hours into laboring in the room
Sherri thought the tub would be a good idea.
I told Taylor I was afraid of the tub.
I got in much too early with Evelyn and I didn’t want to stall out. Even if I didn’t stall out I didn’t want the
psychological battle. Sherri said we had
two options 1) get in the tub, maybe things slow down, but I could get some
relief and rest and have the strength to birth the baby 2) keep walking around,
labor progresses, but I exhaust myself and potentially not have the strength
when I needed it. A minute later I was
in the tub. Immediately I felt relaxed. Imagine that!
It was easier to move from position to position, but there wasn’t much in
terms of support. And applying counter
pressure was a bit difficult I would imagine.
It was at this time that I also started the honey sticks. It was like picking assorted chocolates out
of the box, some were great and some well….went to my husband to finish! They provided a great source of energy. But each one needed to be followed up with
some water. By this time I think we were
nearing the end of the work day. I had
the thought in the back of my mind that I wanted my water to break, but I never
voiced it. Coincidentally Sherri
tactfully brought up the possibility of Dickerson breaking my water. She explained that it would relieve a fair
amount of pressure and depending on how far along I was could really pick
things up. At this point I didn’t need
to be convinced that this would be the best next step. I told Taylor I’d been waiting hours for
someone to suggest this! Dickerson came
into the room shortly there after.
Sherri began talking with him about breaking my water and Dickerson then
wanted to be sure it was what I wanted. I don’t think he got more than 2 words
out when I said, “YES! Do it!” I made my way out of the tub and insisted
that if he check me I not lay on my back.
That was probably a given. Laying
on my side, Sherri held up my leg (which felt amazing) Dickerson checked me and
said I was 7. Triumphantly I said,
“That’s 2 times further than I made it with Evelyn!” He confirmed again that I wanted my water
broken, “Yes! Yes! Do it!” I cried and laughed simultaneously while he did
it. It felt so good, it relieved
pressure and psychologically I felt like I was in 7th heaven. Later, Taylor told me that he started to tear
up.
Once my water was broken I thought we’d have a baby in no
time, it would be another 6 hours or so.
Sherri suggested I lay on my left side, apparently one side of my cervix
had more than the other and laying this way would help open things up. Shortly after switching sides I started
having trouble breathing. Not sure how
long it lasted, but felt like at least an hour.
She had my sit up to help me feel like I could get my breathing under
control. I was really out of it. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. Sherri started to get concerned and said
something to the effect of, “I’m not going to lose you.” I really think I wanted to pass out, I wanted
it to be over, and this seemed like a respectable way for it to be over and for
me to get the baby. I “rolled” over to
my right side to get some better.
Thankfully things returned to normal.
We thought it may have been a result of all the honey sticks.
Eventually I got back into the tub, who knows for how
long. I was starting to feel an urge to
push. Sherri didn’t want me pushing
until she knew I was 10cm. Every few
contractions I also felt a burning sensation.
Around this time a Dickerson had asked the doctor on call to check on
me. I told her she could check me but
not on my back. The raised the head of
the bed, I leaned against it while on my knees.
10 Centimeters! I DID IT!!!! I MADE IT!!!!
If I wanted to push I could push, but I had to let my body do it. I spent more time laying on my side. Sherri told me not to do the pushing and not
to bare down, but instead take in deep breaths and let out 3 short
breaths. I had to have Taylor do this with
me. I wanted this baby out and I knew
gravity would be the most helpful. I
switched to standing and resting on Taylor.
Of course my right groin repeatedly cramped which definitely “cramped”
my style. If that wasn’t bad enough my
left calf started to cramp as well. I
knew staying in this position would not be the most effective or
efficient. I then went to hands and
knees on the bed, but for some reason what I really wanted to do was
squat. So squat I did. After a period of time the nurse called Dickerson
to let him know I was pushing but that it would probably be a while. Everyone seemed to think that, I tried to
ignore it because damn it I wanted this baby out! =) He
said to call back when they saw the head.
Well what do you know, the next push and my little Lucy started to poke
her head out! Everyone was talking about
how long it would take Dickerson to get here, in between contractions I said it
shouldn’t be too long because he lives nearby.
It felt like an eternity though until he got there. When he arrived he made himself comfortable
on the floor. At that point there was no
way I would get into a position that would be more conducive for a doctor. It was my birth and I would do what I wanted
to do! From Sherri, to the nurses, to
Dickerson, everyone commented on how relaxed I was remaining, how ontop of my
breathing I was, and that my body really knew what it was doing. Sherri would think of a slight change of
position and I would get into it before she had a chance to voice it. Taylor positioned a mirror so I could
watch. To be honest, much of the time it
felt like I was making more progress pushing out a terd than a baby! I remember thinking I don’t care if I rip
from here to kingdom come, I wanted Lucy out.
(I’m glad that didn’t happen). I
was in such a deep squat, that was something else that was surprising to
everybody. Finally Dickerson thought it
would be best if I got on hands and knees on the bed because he was worried I
would collapse if I stayed in a squat any longer. AFterall I had been in a deep squat for
nearly an hour. So with the baby’s head
literally half way out I made my way to the edge of the bed. Several pushes later out came my Lucy! What a sensation that was! Through all of the pushing Dickerson’s voice was
hardly louder than a whisper. He kept
saying, “so smooth. So gentle.” A stark contrast from the doctor we heard
yelling “PUSH! HARD” as we walked the halls.
Words really helped me get through my contractions. I said Lucy a lot, talked to her and encouraged
her to come out. I told her Evelyn
wanted to play with her. I said “I Can”
which then would change to “I Am.” At
times when things got hard out came “I can’t,” but usually by the next
contraction I changed it to either “I can” or “I am.” Another phrase I used often was “Oh Lord,”
and that surely came from the depths of my being.
When Lucy came I was exhausted. Of course I suppose 22 hours of hard labor
would do that to you. But I did it! It took everyone a few minutes to realize I
was still on my knees and wanted to sit, but preferably not in all the blood
and goo. Finally in a resting position
it occurred to me that it wasn’t over yet that darn placenta needed to come
out. The thought crossed my mind for
Dickerson to just rip that thing out so I could be done, again glad that didn’t
happen. Out it came and he took the time
to give me a little tour of it. I needed
one stitch and that was it. Through all
of this the staff kept saying how amazed they were at the birth. They couldn’t believe it was my first vaginal
birth. Dickerson said I made it look
like it was my 6th successful vaginal birth. After the nurse not so gently cleaned me off
she said, “that was inspirational.”
While my preference would have been a slightly shorter birth
=) I don’t think I could have asked for a better experience. The nurse that was with us at the end was
phenomenal. She was like a second
doula. When Sherri had to leave the room
she didn’t hesitate to be a calm support to me.
I couldn’t have asked for a better support team.
When I was pregnant with Evelyn her due date was a Monday. I
stopped teaching the Friday before and that night I went into labor. Working up until the due date was definitely
helpful as it preoccupied my mind and I was not counting down the days. I took off 2 weeks before my EDD with Lucy
and that was tough. I thought I would go
into labor the day I stopped work, because that’s what happened with Evie. I’m glad I didn’t. I kept thinking when I finish her quilt maybe
she will come. Maybe when I clean the
bathrooms the baby will come. The
weekend before my due date was the super moon and I was thinking maybe now the
baby will come. So I stocked up on my
labor snacks and made my affirmations.
No baby. At my 39 week appt with
Dickerson on Monday he informed me that he would be out of town Thursday and
Friday for a family event in Dallas. My
husband was working nights part of the week.
Sherri was attending the Preserving Natural Birth Conference in
Lafayette. So if the baby would come on
the EDD, March 23, I had it worked out to the hours of the day on particular
days it would need to happen in order to make sure Dickerson was in town,
Taylor would not be returning from a 12 hour shift through the night, and
Sherri would be able to go to the conference.
To add to that my parents were coming into town on Sunday (March
27). And while there was no expectation
from them that a baby be there, they live in Ohio and it would have been great
for them to see their newest grandchild.
Lucy waited to make her arrival Monday, the day after my parents
arrived, the day I would have my stress test with Dickerson, and Sherri got to
attend the conference. In fact my
contractions started picking up an hour before my husband had to go into
work. My little Lucy knew when the
perfect time would be to make her appearance!
Expecting around the same time as a good friend (Melissa)
was a blessing and a curse. Everyday we
talked about our “progress.” She
definitely had more evident progress than me, I was definitely happy for her,
especially since she had an earlier due date than me, but it was still
difficult. When Sage arrived I was happy
for her, but I wanted to know when our baby would arrive.
The last few weeks were a bit of a mental battle for me, if
you couldn’t already tell. It was
helpful that at the last few appointments with Dickerson he didn’t put a
deadline on things. I didn’t feel like
he was pushing me into a corner. But I
knew that the further I got from the EDD that having a successful VBAC would
become challenging: increased size, harder baby’s head, etc. But I didn’t want to do anything to make
labor happen. The last thing I wanted
was a repeat of my labor with evelyn.
Let the Story Begin…
March 27: Around 8pm or soI started having contractions. They were coming within at least 20 minutes
of each other, so I thought I may as well time them. But I decided I wouldn’t put too much stock
into any of it. They didn’t last
incredibly long, maybe 20-40 seconds and they weren’t really much to “write
home” about. I think around 10ish I
decided I should probably head to bed, even if the contractions continued I
knew I would be able to sleep through them and I knew that would be the best
thing for me. They did continue through
the night but they weren’t really that strong enough to wake me, but I think I
must have known I was having them.
Around 1 I got up to use the bathroom, I had lost my mucous plug and had
some bloody show. A few days earlier I
had some light blood but this time things seemed a bit more realand I had a
sense that things were going to happen soon, but again I knew I should go back
to bed. Then at 2:30 things started to
pick up a bit more. I couldn’t really
sleep through them anymore, I’m not sure it was because they were painful but
because I was excited. I turned the stop
watch on, grabbed my labor notepad and began recording the contractions. Taylor was beginning to stir around 3am
because he would be getting up soon for work.
He was given strict instructions not to move in bed because it made the
contractions harder with all that moving around. In between contractions we discussed whether
or not he should call into work. At
3:45, 15 minutes before he would need to leave he made the decision to call in,
thankfully. He asked if we should call
Sherri and I thought it best to get a longer pattern of contractions to make
sure it was the real deal and wait til a more suitable hour. I rotated between the toilet, the edge of the
bed, and laying down. Everywhere I went
I carried my water bottle, crossword, labor notebook, and phone. At some point I decided to grab the ball and
I set myself up at the edge of the bed with Taylor sitting on an ottoman
applying counter pressure to my back. Every
several contractions I stood up to do my stretches Dr. Cathy recommended to
release tension in my back. That helped
tremendously.
A 6am I made the decision to call Sherri. I explained that I had bloody show, lost my
plug, and had been timing my contractions since around 2:30, they were about
4-5 minutes apart and lasting between 45 seconds to a minute. I had two contractions mid conversation and
was unable to talk, so it was evident that they were relatively strong. Somewhere I think it got lost in translation
that I had contractions through the night.
Once that got cleared up she made her way over to our house.
The three of us spent the next hour in our bedroom, Taylor
applying counter pressure and Sherri gently touching me in various places as a
reminder to relax my body. But she
commented that I was doing a great job of keeping my body relaxed or at the
very least releasing tension when she touched a particular spot. In between contractions I was compiling two
lists: last minute things to put into our suitcase and things to remember to
tell my mom about Evelyn. At this time I
also remember explaining to Sherri why this was perfect timing: my parents flew
in from Cleveland the night before, she was able to attend the preserving
natural birth conference in Lafayette, Dickerson could be with his family,
Taylor had a full night’s sleep, I would get to miss my doctor’s appointment
and the stress test, and Dickerson would already be at the hospital since it
was the work week. Man, did my baby have
everything worked out. Sherri said she
also had a sense that Monday would be the day as well.
As the time neared 7am Sherri commented that I was burping a
lot and my contractions were getting shorter, and I was also nauseaus. Apparently all signs that I was entering
transition. She thought it would be wise
to begin thinking about heading to the hospital so we could avoid a Chinese
fire drill at the hospital while in transition.
I told Taylor to call the assessment center and insist they begin getting
a tub ready and to call Dickerson, because that’s what my charts said to
do. We then headed down the stairs, and
there I was greeted by my mom, dad, and Evelyn eating breakfast. My folks both said, “this couldn’t have been
more perfect timing.” Seconds before
walking out the door I threw-up. I was
convinced that I would arrive at the hospital at least 7cm if not more, and
ready for the baby to arrive. I’m
thankful Woman’s is only a mile or two away because the trip was less than
ideal. It felt like we had to wait an
eternity to turn into the parking lot!
I proceeded to walk to the reception desk to work through a
contraction. I’m sure the old woman
meant well but she kept asking me to sign in mid-contraction. Umm…hello?
Taylor informed them we had called in already and that we were to skip
the assessment center and go right up to labor and delivery (little white lie
never hurt anyone). The next thing I
knew I was in the little receiving room, they wanted me to fill out paper work. For real?
Dickerson met us down there and explained all the rooms were full but
one big enough for a tub should be ready for us in 30 minutes, so we would hang
out in the assessment center. Shortly
after we left we were instructed to go upstairs. Sherri and I were both confused, but we did
as we were told. As we exited the
elevator the nurse on the 2nd floor looked just as puzzled and
sherri and I both felt. “You’re not
supposed to be up here for another 30 minutes, we don’t have a room ready for
you.” Sherri responded, “that’s what we
thought, but they sent us up here.” So
we made our way back down stairs and the nurses in the assessment center gave
us a bit of a hard time for disappearing on them.
Once inside a room the nurse checked me. “You’re three centimeters, maybe I can fit
one more finger there. Your baby is way
up there. And your bag is bulging.” Wow lady, thanks for the encouragement. Needless to say I was discouraged. I thought I was displaying signs of
transition at my house. And after 30+
hours of labor with Evelyn I only made it to 4cm. I was trying not to cry or let it play with my mind too much because
I figured my mind could be my best friend or worst enemy. Of course she checked me on my back and of
course a contraction came. I cried out
to Taylor to help roll me to my side. The
nurse wouldn’t let me get off the bed while I was being monitored and she said
there was cause for concern because the baby’s heart tone’s “dropped” to
112. Once she left I asked Taylor and
Sherri to set me up on the ball. And
wouldn’t you know the heart tones got right back to normal. I knew 112 wasn’t something to be of concern
but I’m glad it got the nurse out of there.
Finally the time came to make our way up to my room. The aid refused to let me go upstairs without
pants on and not in the wheel chair.
That was not about to happen. So
please her I said if I put pants on under this gown can I walk, she asked for
permission and we were on our way.
Although she didn’t seem all that pleased to have to stop periodically
for me to ride out a contraction and neither will she be getting an award for
encouragement!
We were told that the tub would be set up by the time we got
up to the room. It was good thing I was
only 3cm because there wasn’t even a tub in the room. Needless to say my first hour or two at
Woman’s was less than impressive! The
nurse put in the heplock for the first round of IVs because I was GBS positive
and wanted to get heart tones. I
questioned the necessity of this as I was just on monitors not 3 minutes
prior. I also made her confirm several
times that I could be mobile or submersed in water with the monitor. I must say that I did a pretty good job of
advocating for myself. I’m sure I was
also coming across as a bitch but I wanted to make sure they knew what I wanted. Things were not very calm in the first hour I
was in the room, 3 nurses and Sherri were working to set up the tub and I was
hooked up to a monitor and an IV pole. I
just wanted to start focusing on the labor.
Once the monitors came off we decided to walk the halls, it
was just easier that way. Sherri had her
Doppler, so she could check me at any point anyway. One of the first things we heard in the halls
was shouting, “PUSH! PUSH! HARD!” Sherri
leaned over to me and said, “That will be you soon, but it won’t sound like
that.” All three of us were surprised by
how many people stopped to ask if I was ok.
I could hear a bit of annoyance in Sherri’s response, “She’s in labor
she is just having a contraction.”
Another nurse thought I was a visitor and again we informed her that I
was in labor. Another nurse reprimanded
us for being in the halls and insisted we get into my room. We let her know we would clear the halls once
this contraction stopped. It was evident
to me that the staff was not used to people actually experiencing labor.
Once we were back in the room I spent some time on the ball
which was fantastic! It felt great to be
supported but still feel like I was letting gravity do its thing. At one point Dickerson had one of the nurses
bring in the birthing stool. I tried
that for a contraction or two and that was it.
It was too hard and provided too much pressure. The next time the stool came in handy was as
a foot rest while I was on the toilet!
Periodically Taylor asked Sherri if I could get into the tub, and I
think I kept telling him I’m not ready for it or I don’t want it. Several hours into laboring in the room
Sherri thought the tub would be a good idea.
I told Taylor I was afraid of the tub.
I got in much too early with Evelyn and I didn’t want to stall out. Even if I didn’t stall out I didn’t want the
psychological battle. Sherri said we had
two options 1) get in the tub, maybe things slow down, but I could get some
relief and rest and have the strength to birth the baby 2) keep walking around,
labor progresses, but I exhaust myself and potentially not have the strength
when I needed it. A minute later I was
in the tub. Immediately I felt relaxed. Imagine that!
It was easier to move from position to position, but there wasn’t much in
terms of support. And applying counter
pressure was a bit difficult I would imagine.
It was at this time that I also started the honey sticks. It was like picking assorted chocolates out
of the box, some were great and some well….went to my husband to finish! They provided a great source of energy. But each one needed to be followed up with
some water. By this time I think we were
nearing the end of the work day. I had
the thought in the back of my mind that I wanted my water to break, but I never
voiced it. Coincidentally Sherri
tactfully brought up the possibility of Dickerson breaking my water. She explained that it would relieve a fair
amount of pressure and depending on how far along I was could really pick
things up. At this point I didn’t need
to be convinced that this would be the best next step. I told Taylor I’d been waiting hours for
someone to suggest this! Dickerson came
into the room shortly there after.
Sherri began talking with him about breaking my water and Dickerson then
wanted to be sure it was what I wanted. I don’t think he got more than 2 words
out when I said, “YES! Do it!” I made my way out of the tub and insisted
that if he check me I not lay on my back.
That was probably a given. Laying
on my side, Sherri held up my leg (which felt amazing) Dickerson checked me and
said I was 7. Triumphantly I said,
“That’s 2 times further than I made it with Evelyn!” He confirmed again that I wanted my water
broken, “Yes! Yes! Do it!” I cried and laughed simultaneously while he did
it. It felt so good, it relieved
pressure and psychologically I felt like I was in 7th heaven. Later, Taylor told me that he started to tear
up.
Once my water was broken I thought we’d have a baby in no
time, it would be another 6 hours or so.
Sherri suggested I lay on my left side, apparently one side of my cervix
had more than the other and laying this way would help open things up. Shortly after switching sides I started
having trouble breathing. Not sure how
long it lasted, but felt like at least an hour.
She had my sit up to help me feel like I could get my breathing under
control. I was really out of it. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. Sherri started to get concerned and said
something to the effect of, “I’m not going to lose you.” I really think I wanted to pass out, I wanted
it to be over, and this seemed like a respectable way for it to be over and for
me to get the baby. I “rolled” over to
my right side to get some better.
Thankfully things returned to normal.
We thought it may have been a result of all the honey sticks.
Eventually I got back into the tub, who knows for how
long. I was starting to feel an urge to
push. Sherri didn’t want me pushing
until she knew I was 10cm. Every few
contractions I also felt a burning sensation.
Around this time a Dickerson had asked the doctor on call to check on
me. I told her she could check me but
not on my back. The raised the head of
the bed, I leaned against it while on my knees.
10 Centimeters! I DID IT!!!! I MADE IT!!!!
If I wanted to push I could push, but I had to let my body do it. I spent more time laying on my side. Sherri told me not to do the pushing and not
to bare down, but instead take in deep breaths and let out 3 short
breaths. I had to have Taylor do this with
me. I wanted this baby out and I knew
gravity would be the most helpful. I
switched to standing and resting on Taylor.
Of course my right groin repeatedly cramped which definitely “cramped”
my style. If that wasn’t bad enough my
left calf started to cramp as well. I
knew staying in this position would not be the most effective or
efficient. I then went to hands and
knees on the bed, but for some reason what I really wanted to do was
squat. So squat I did. After a period of time the nurse called Dickerson
to let him know I was pushing but that it would probably be a while. Everyone seemed to think that, I tried to
ignore it because damn it I wanted this baby out! =) He
said to call back when they saw the head.
Well what do you know, the next push and my little Lucy started to poke
her head out! Everyone was talking about
how long it would take Dickerson to get here, in between contractions I said it
shouldn’t be too long because he lives nearby.
It felt like an eternity though until he got there. When he arrived he made himself comfortable
on the floor. At that point there was no
way I would get into a position that would be more conducive for a doctor. It was my birth and I would do what I wanted
to do! From Sherri, to the nurses, to
Dickerson, everyone commented on how relaxed I was remaining, how ontop of my
breathing I was, and that my body really knew what it was doing. Sherri would think of a slight change of
position and I would get into it before she had a chance to voice it. Taylor positioned a mirror so I could
watch. To be honest, much of the time it
felt like I was making more progress pushing out a terd than a baby! I remember thinking I don’t care if I rip
from here to kingdom come, I wanted Lucy out.
(I’m glad that didn’t happen). I
was in such a deep squat, that was something else that was surprising to
everybody. Finally Dickerson thought it
would be best if I got on hands and knees on the bed because he was worried I
would collapse if I stayed in a squat any longer. AFterall I had been in a deep squat for
nearly an hour. So with the baby’s head
literally half way out I made my way to the edge of the bed. Several pushes later out came my Lucy! What a sensation that was! Through all of the pushing Dickerson’s voice was
hardly louder than a whisper. He kept
saying, “so smooth. So gentle.” A stark contrast from the doctor we heard
yelling “PUSH! HARD” as we walked the halls.
Words really helped me get through my contractions. I said Lucy a lot, talked to her and encouraged
her to come out. I told her Evelyn
wanted to play with her. I said “I Can”
which then would change to “I Am.” At
times when things got hard out came “I can’t,” but usually by the next
contraction I changed it to either “I can” or “I am.” Another phrase I used often was “Oh Lord,”
and that surely came from the depths of my being.
When Lucy came I was exhausted. Of course I suppose 22 hours of hard labor
would do that to you. But I did it! It took everyone a few minutes to realize I
was still on my knees and wanted to sit, but preferably not in all the blood
and goo. Finally in a resting position
it occurred to me that it wasn’t over yet that darn placenta needed to come
out. The thought crossed my mind for
Dickerson to just rip that thing out so I could be done, again glad that didn’t
happen. Out it came and he took the time
to give me a little tour of it. I needed
one stitch and that was it. Through all
of this the staff kept saying how amazed they were at the birth. They couldn’t believe it was my first vaginal
birth. Dickerson said I made it look
like it was my 6th successful vaginal birth. After the nurse not so gently cleaned me off
she said, “that was inspirational.”
While my preference would have been a slightly shorter birth
=) I don’t think I could have asked for a better experience. The nurse that was with us at the end was
phenomenal. She was like a second
doula. When Sherri had to leave the room
she didn’t hesitate to be a calm support to me.
I couldn’t have asked for a better support team.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Evelyn's Birth Story
Birth is important to me. It's important that a mother has control and choice over her body, her experience, and what she wants for her. It is not fair to have another person, namely a doctor, exert their will, power, or "expertise" upon a mother.
I was devastated when Evelyn had to be born via c-section. Perhaps I should change the "had" in the previous sentence to "made to." At the point in my labor the c-section was by no means necessary. I was a victim of an unnecessarian. Several times since her birth I have sat down to write her birth story and haven't been able to do it. I think I can do it now.
It's been over two years. So I likely won't remember it in sequential order. But I will be able to recount the big moments that shaped the experience.
I began my maternity leave on Friday, October 30. I had plans to give out candy at my house the next day with some friends. Around 11pm Friday night I had a feeling that things might happen. I asked Taylor if he would be going to bed soon and proceeded in that direction. I wasn't in bed for many than 2 hours when I woke up feeling as though I had peed my pants. Taylor was still awake. I went to the bathroom and felt a small gush and saw some blood. Somewhat calmly, but with some excitment and nervousness, I yelled to Taylor, "umm...I think my water just broke." Needless to say he ran down the hall, met me in the bathroom and said, "really!" Immediately he called his mom. I was a little disappointed because i still hadn't bought my labor snacks. She suggested we go to the hospital. I had remembered hearing that you didn't really have to go in immediately, but first time baby jitters and excitement I guess. I asked if we could go to the store first so i could get my snacks, my idea was shot down! So I packed up what snacks we had and had his mom bring some too, as she would be meeting us at the hospital since my oldest sister would not be coming into town until Sunday.
It was raining rather hard. Contractions were coming rather frequently, perhaps 2 minutes apart. But I didn't really feel as though I couldn't manage them. I had the wherewithall to put a towel down on the seat so as to not stain it. so the contractions couldn't have been that bad. I called my mom, which was about 2 am Cleveland time. I didn't expect her to answer, I was just going to leave a message. She answered, I think she knew what I was calling about. I told her, "I'm not sure this is it, but I think my water broke." She replied in her sweet motherly way, "Oh Hannah. This is it. It's happening." I also texted my two friends, Laura and Bonnie, just to let them know it was happening.
I told Taylor to drop me off, I could check myself in. The nurses at the station seemed a bit annoyed that I had to pause in between answering questions and no one offered that I sit or anything. Should have been a redflag. I was admitted into a room and the first thing they did was sit me on my bed to set up a hep-lock. It took a few tries and dripping my blood down my arms and legs. Again, another red flag. I was getting rather annoyed.
My contractions felt like they were pretty close together, but they weren't all that intense. But I thought things would go rather quickly. I was hoping for a Halloween baby because I had brought a pumpkin outfit to put her in. Taylor very sweetly brought all of our labor loot up to the room: radio, ball, bags, etc. A little while later his mom showed up. I think at this point I decided to get on the birth ball and I used the bed to rest on, do sudoku and other mind games. Around 4am or so Laura and Bonnie showed up. We were surprised. in hindsight, I'm not sure what any of us were thinking to have that happen. but we were all excited, that's for sure. They brought magazines and sat quietly on the floor. i think a few times I heard them comment about how I was handeling the contractions. They stayed for maybe an hour or so. The contractions were starting to hurt a bit more and so I thought that maybe getting in the tub would be good. Iwas also done with visitors, so it worked to ask them to leave.
It took a long time to set up the tub and they couldn't get the water warm enough. Fortunately there was another tub in the hospital that we were able to use. Once I got in it felt so amazing! I told Taylor to sleep, and i just sat in the tub. I was annoyed with the TV because the remote only had up and down options. It was also at this time that I put in my CD of Christian music for labor that I had created. It was now early morning and I was exhausted. several times my mother-in-law said my name because she was worried I would fall into the water sleeping. And well, there were times in which my immersed face woke me up.
After quite sometime in the tub they suggested I take a break. Contractions had slowed down a little bit, but not really slow enough for concern. I had remembered that my friend Hannah had spent a lot of time walking and by the time it had come to push she was exhausted. So I was trying to be mindful of how I reserved my energy. We basically decided to do a rotation: walk, rest, nipple stimulation/pressure point. We did this for several hours. At one point my mother in law was rubbing my feet and I was doing nipple stimulation, definitely a unique experience =) Periodically, my mother in law stepped out to give my mom an update. It was usually positive, but it was always the same dilation: 2-3 centimeters.
During one of my vaginal checks the nurse seemed to be spending more time than usual. I began screaming and crying. What the hell had she done to me. I can still hear myself yelling "OUCH!" I know for a fact that I frightened her. I was still 3cm, it had been at least 18 hour or so at this point. At this time also she had me on my back, strapped to the monitor. It was horrendous. She said the baby was having decels. Before I knew it she put a breathing mask on me. Again, what the hell. I started crying again and threw the mask off. Very calmly my mother-in-law explained that the baby was having some difficulty and so the best thing we could do was give me some good air to then give it to the baby. After that explanation I immediately put the mask back on. I was fine with that, but why the hell couldn't that damn nurse treat me like a human being and explain things to me? I tried laying on my side, I knew being on my back was not ideal. She gave me such a hard time about that. Your baby's heart beat is bad when you lay like that. Oh and beign on my back is better, I thought to myself. I probably spent an hour or so laying on the bed. She seemed annoyed that I was uncomfortable, that I was in pain. DUH! After a while I finally said to her, I want to get on the ball. Her response was very ignorant: "your baby isn't doing well, we need to be able to monitor her. You can't get on the ball." I wasn't about to be polite, so quite rudely and matter of factly I said, "I need to get on that ball and my doctor is just fine with me getting on it." She left to see if it was ok. A few minutes later, very unpleased with the situation, she "let" me get on the ball. And what do you know Evelyn's hear tones returned to normal and they were able to get consistent reads. Hello, ignorance!
Sometime passed and she came back in for another check. I began to cry and feel sick as soon as she indicated she would check me again. I laid down and was sobbing. As she got closer I screamed out. I couldn't get myself to open my legs. I couldn't get myself to calm down. I was yelling/sobbing "No!" If my first outburst didn't traumatize her, then this one surely did. Taylor asked her to step out for a minute. Crying, I told him and my mother in law that I couldn't have her check me again. I can't remember who asked our nurse for someone else. My nurses response was: "It's going to hurt no matter who does it. And you won't really know how much you've progressed." My response was, "I don't care." During the first horrible check with her there happened to be another nurse in the room, so she saw how I reacted. It was this nurse that did the check the second time. And wouldn't you know it, I was calm, relaxed, and didn't make a single sound. In my mind I was praying for progess because I knew the next thing would likely be pit. I was 4. we had passed the 24 hour mark, easily.
After all of this I did some laps around the floor, went down stairs, etc. At one point my doctor came to visit us, she knew what my dilation was but she never said anything about interventions, I was so relieved. well after the 24 hour mark the nurse started talking about pitocin, it may have been suggested by the doctor? I wasn't sure. But we had decided we would see if it could kick the contractions back into gear. Afterall, my contractions had basically stalled out for many, many hours. I was really scared about the pitocin. I sat on the bed watching the nurse try to operate the pit machine for almost 30 minutes. I kept thinking, God is giving me more time. I'm sure it was the machine, but it didn't make my nurse look very competent. Finally she got the machine to work and hooked me up. I had a lot of pain in my back. By the way, it was now Sunday morning. I spent several hours at the foot of the bed on the ball. The sun had risen, I was exhausted. Taylor was helping me do crosswords. A random nurse came in during a contraction and immediately stepped in and said, "relax your face, it will help. just relax." and what do you know, I handled those next few painful back contractions like a champ. Where was this nurse or a similar nurse for the past 30 some hours?
Around 8 or 9 am, is what I'm guessing I had a new nurse and my doctor was around. We started talking about where to go. The nurse checked me again. She said I was maybe 4cm. no progress again. She also wasn't that encouraging when she said, "maybe 4cm." I told the doctor I didn't want any interventions yet. I asked if I could get back in the tub, and she said sure. But the nurse very strongly objected. She thought it would be wise to do some monitoring to determine just how strong the contractions were. (this part is very hazy with regard to what happened when). They asked what I wanted, and I told them I wanted to deliver vaginally but I was exhausted and I started to cry. We asked that they all leave so Taylor and I could talk. I was exhausted. I was wheepy. I was over all not in a good place. In my mind I could hear people judging me for my decisions and felt like in some way I had let them down. I coudl also hear people saying, "I told you you wouldn't be able to do it naturally" (looking back, why the hell would someone say that? inconsiderate, negative, and so non-supportive, especially coming from another woman). Taylor and I decided we would get the epidural in hopes of still having a vaginal delivery.
So the anaesthesiologist came in. he hardly acknowledged me. I was lone with the doctor and nurse, upset, sad, and scared for my life. I didn't want the damn epidural to kill me. Laying on my side in an awkward curled like position he told me "now you can't move." ok, so now I'm scared even more that if i do move I'm screwed. once the epidural kicked it I was miserable. I could feel every single ache and pain in my body. My neck and back were throbbling. They also put in an internal fetal monitor. I was able to periodically fall asleep, that was nice. Before I knew it the doctor came in and said, "We're ready." I was thrilled, I was going to birth this baby. but those positive thoughts vanished as quickly as they came to my mind, when she told me we would have to do a c-section. Mind you NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING indiciated any kind of stress on myself or the baby. within minutes I was being rolled into the operating room just crying and crying. And these were not tears of joy. Everything was ok. Why were doing this? Yet I felt so helpless. I didn't feel as though I could object. People would definitelly be judging me now.
The operating room was so bright and so impersonal. It was cold too. I opened my eyes long enough to see that Taylor was sitting next to me, but otherwise they were shut. I was scared. Every little sensation I was reporting it because I did not want them cutting me open or ripping out my baby and be able to feel it. I'm sure I drove them crazy with my, "I can feel ________, am I supposed to?" My doctor was kind during the process. She apologized. She said, 'of all my patients I wanted this the least for her. she really didn't want this. I am sorry." Before I knew it I heard crying. Taylor left my side and went to see the baby. They gave her him and she immediately stopped crying, she knew her daddy had her. The nurse had to tell me i could open my eyes. It's awkward being with your baby for the first time with arms out on the table, no sensation, and no power. Then they put Evelyn on my chest and the nurse told me I could move my hands and arms to hold the baby. Immediately my anger, disappointment, and sadness disappeared. I began crying tears of joy, my Evelyn was finally here. She stayed on my chest until we bathed her back in our room.
The nurse was so helpful to me to get Evelyn to latch. She did so well. It was amazing. Back in the room it was just me and Evelyn in her little hat that I made her, wrapped in her own afghan, and the nurse was cleaning some things up. I asked her, "so does this mean I can't ever have a vaginal birth?" It was then that I learned that once a c-section always a c-section was not true. As the hours passed I was having difficulty with nursing and the helpful nurse had left. I remember at two different times I asked for help and the new nurses response was, "you and your baby just need to get used to each other." WHAT!!!! Dumbass, that's not going to help at all. how about show me how to hold my baby so she can latch.
***
In hindsight I realize that my doctor wasn't really on board or comfortable with natural birth. I think her idea of natural birth meant hands off, no suggestions, no support. I think with more support, with people giving me suggestions things would have ended very differently.
Friends and family, in an attempt to comfort me (I guess) said the only difference between my experience and theirs was where the baby came out and it wasn't that big of a deal. To me it was and it still is. It is something that I want, that I deserve, and that should happen. Birth is important to me. All of it is an experience. It shapes the child and it shapes the parent. A mother should have control over her body. It's her right. A mother should not have to fight to get quality care, especially not when she is in the throws of labor. Birth is important. A mother's rights are important. i can't think of the words to articulate what is so heavy on my heart. So I will just say it again, Birth is important. A mother's rights are important.
I was devastated when Evelyn had to be born via c-section. Perhaps I should change the "had" in the previous sentence to "made to." At the point in my labor the c-section was by no means necessary. I was a victim of an unnecessarian. Several times since her birth I have sat down to write her birth story and haven't been able to do it. I think I can do it now.
It's been over two years. So I likely won't remember it in sequential order. But I will be able to recount the big moments that shaped the experience.
I began my maternity leave on Friday, October 30. I had plans to give out candy at my house the next day with some friends. Around 11pm Friday night I had a feeling that things might happen. I asked Taylor if he would be going to bed soon and proceeded in that direction. I wasn't in bed for many than 2 hours when I woke up feeling as though I had peed my pants. Taylor was still awake. I went to the bathroom and felt a small gush and saw some blood. Somewhat calmly, but with some excitment and nervousness, I yelled to Taylor, "umm...I think my water just broke." Needless to say he ran down the hall, met me in the bathroom and said, "really!" Immediately he called his mom. I was a little disappointed because i still hadn't bought my labor snacks. She suggested we go to the hospital. I had remembered hearing that you didn't really have to go in immediately, but first time baby jitters and excitement I guess. I asked if we could go to the store first so i could get my snacks, my idea was shot down! So I packed up what snacks we had and had his mom bring some too, as she would be meeting us at the hospital since my oldest sister would not be coming into town until Sunday.
It was raining rather hard. Contractions were coming rather frequently, perhaps 2 minutes apart. But I didn't really feel as though I couldn't manage them. I had the wherewithall to put a towel down on the seat so as to not stain it. so the contractions couldn't have been that bad. I called my mom, which was about 2 am Cleveland time. I didn't expect her to answer, I was just going to leave a message. She answered, I think she knew what I was calling about. I told her, "I'm not sure this is it, but I think my water broke." She replied in her sweet motherly way, "Oh Hannah. This is it. It's happening." I also texted my two friends, Laura and Bonnie, just to let them know it was happening.
I told Taylor to drop me off, I could check myself in. The nurses at the station seemed a bit annoyed that I had to pause in between answering questions and no one offered that I sit or anything. Should have been a redflag. I was admitted into a room and the first thing they did was sit me on my bed to set up a hep-lock. It took a few tries and dripping my blood down my arms and legs. Again, another red flag. I was getting rather annoyed.
My contractions felt like they were pretty close together, but they weren't all that intense. But I thought things would go rather quickly. I was hoping for a Halloween baby because I had brought a pumpkin outfit to put her in. Taylor very sweetly brought all of our labor loot up to the room: radio, ball, bags, etc. A little while later his mom showed up. I think at this point I decided to get on the birth ball and I used the bed to rest on, do sudoku and other mind games. Around 4am or so Laura and Bonnie showed up. We were surprised. in hindsight, I'm not sure what any of us were thinking to have that happen. but we were all excited, that's for sure. They brought magazines and sat quietly on the floor. i think a few times I heard them comment about how I was handeling the contractions. They stayed for maybe an hour or so. The contractions were starting to hurt a bit more and so I thought that maybe getting in the tub would be good. Iwas also done with visitors, so it worked to ask them to leave.
It took a long time to set up the tub and they couldn't get the water warm enough. Fortunately there was another tub in the hospital that we were able to use. Once I got in it felt so amazing! I told Taylor to sleep, and i just sat in the tub. I was annoyed with the TV because the remote only had up and down options. It was also at this time that I put in my CD of Christian music for labor that I had created. It was now early morning and I was exhausted. several times my mother-in-law said my name because she was worried I would fall into the water sleeping. And well, there were times in which my immersed face woke me up.
After quite sometime in the tub they suggested I take a break. Contractions had slowed down a little bit, but not really slow enough for concern. I had remembered that my friend Hannah had spent a lot of time walking and by the time it had come to push she was exhausted. So I was trying to be mindful of how I reserved my energy. We basically decided to do a rotation: walk, rest, nipple stimulation/pressure point. We did this for several hours. At one point my mother in law was rubbing my feet and I was doing nipple stimulation, definitely a unique experience =) Periodically, my mother in law stepped out to give my mom an update. It was usually positive, but it was always the same dilation: 2-3 centimeters.
During one of my vaginal checks the nurse seemed to be spending more time than usual. I began screaming and crying. What the hell had she done to me. I can still hear myself yelling "OUCH!" I know for a fact that I frightened her. I was still 3cm, it had been at least 18 hour or so at this point. At this time also she had me on my back, strapped to the monitor. It was horrendous. She said the baby was having decels. Before I knew it she put a breathing mask on me. Again, what the hell. I started crying again and threw the mask off. Very calmly my mother-in-law explained that the baby was having some difficulty and so the best thing we could do was give me some good air to then give it to the baby. After that explanation I immediately put the mask back on. I was fine with that, but why the hell couldn't that damn nurse treat me like a human being and explain things to me? I tried laying on my side, I knew being on my back was not ideal. She gave me such a hard time about that. Your baby's heart beat is bad when you lay like that. Oh and beign on my back is better, I thought to myself. I probably spent an hour or so laying on the bed. She seemed annoyed that I was uncomfortable, that I was in pain. DUH! After a while I finally said to her, I want to get on the ball. Her response was very ignorant: "your baby isn't doing well, we need to be able to monitor her. You can't get on the ball." I wasn't about to be polite, so quite rudely and matter of factly I said, "I need to get on that ball and my doctor is just fine with me getting on it." She left to see if it was ok. A few minutes later, very unpleased with the situation, she "let" me get on the ball. And what do you know Evelyn's hear tones returned to normal and they were able to get consistent reads. Hello, ignorance!
Sometime passed and she came back in for another check. I began to cry and feel sick as soon as she indicated she would check me again. I laid down and was sobbing. As she got closer I screamed out. I couldn't get myself to open my legs. I couldn't get myself to calm down. I was yelling/sobbing "No!" If my first outburst didn't traumatize her, then this one surely did. Taylor asked her to step out for a minute. Crying, I told him and my mother in law that I couldn't have her check me again. I can't remember who asked our nurse for someone else. My nurses response was: "It's going to hurt no matter who does it. And you won't really know how much you've progressed." My response was, "I don't care." During the first horrible check with her there happened to be another nurse in the room, so she saw how I reacted. It was this nurse that did the check the second time. And wouldn't you know it, I was calm, relaxed, and didn't make a single sound. In my mind I was praying for progess because I knew the next thing would likely be pit. I was 4. we had passed the 24 hour mark, easily.
After all of this I did some laps around the floor, went down stairs, etc. At one point my doctor came to visit us, she knew what my dilation was but she never said anything about interventions, I was so relieved. well after the 24 hour mark the nurse started talking about pitocin, it may have been suggested by the doctor? I wasn't sure. But we had decided we would see if it could kick the contractions back into gear. Afterall, my contractions had basically stalled out for many, many hours. I was really scared about the pitocin. I sat on the bed watching the nurse try to operate the pit machine for almost 30 minutes. I kept thinking, God is giving me more time. I'm sure it was the machine, but it didn't make my nurse look very competent. Finally she got the machine to work and hooked me up. I had a lot of pain in my back. By the way, it was now Sunday morning. I spent several hours at the foot of the bed on the ball. The sun had risen, I was exhausted. Taylor was helping me do crosswords. A random nurse came in during a contraction and immediately stepped in and said, "relax your face, it will help. just relax." and what do you know, I handled those next few painful back contractions like a champ. Where was this nurse or a similar nurse for the past 30 some hours?
Around 8 or 9 am, is what I'm guessing I had a new nurse and my doctor was around. We started talking about where to go. The nurse checked me again. She said I was maybe 4cm. no progress again. She also wasn't that encouraging when she said, "maybe 4cm." I told the doctor I didn't want any interventions yet. I asked if I could get back in the tub, and she said sure. But the nurse very strongly objected. She thought it would be wise to do some monitoring to determine just how strong the contractions were. (this part is very hazy with regard to what happened when). They asked what I wanted, and I told them I wanted to deliver vaginally but I was exhausted and I started to cry. We asked that they all leave so Taylor and I could talk. I was exhausted. I was wheepy. I was over all not in a good place. In my mind I could hear people judging me for my decisions and felt like in some way I had let them down. I coudl also hear people saying, "I told you you wouldn't be able to do it naturally" (looking back, why the hell would someone say that? inconsiderate, negative, and so non-supportive, especially coming from another woman). Taylor and I decided we would get the epidural in hopes of still having a vaginal delivery.
So the anaesthesiologist came in. he hardly acknowledged me. I was lone with the doctor and nurse, upset, sad, and scared for my life. I didn't want the damn epidural to kill me. Laying on my side in an awkward curled like position he told me "now you can't move." ok, so now I'm scared even more that if i do move I'm screwed. once the epidural kicked it I was miserable. I could feel every single ache and pain in my body. My neck and back were throbbling. They also put in an internal fetal monitor. I was able to periodically fall asleep, that was nice. Before I knew it the doctor came in and said, "We're ready." I was thrilled, I was going to birth this baby. but those positive thoughts vanished as quickly as they came to my mind, when she told me we would have to do a c-section. Mind you NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING indiciated any kind of stress on myself or the baby. within minutes I was being rolled into the operating room just crying and crying. And these were not tears of joy. Everything was ok. Why were doing this? Yet I felt so helpless. I didn't feel as though I could object. People would definitelly be judging me now.
The operating room was so bright and so impersonal. It was cold too. I opened my eyes long enough to see that Taylor was sitting next to me, but otherwise they were shut. I was scared. Every little sensation I was reporting it because I did not want them cutting me open or ripping out my baby and be able to feel it. I'm sure I drove them crazy with my, "I can feel ________, am I supposed to?" My doctor was kind during the process. She apologized. She said, 'of all my patients I wanted this the least for her. she really didn't want this. I am sorry." Before I knew it I heard crying. Taylor left my side and went to see the baby. They gave her him and she immediately stopped crying, she knew her daddy had her. The nurse had to tell me i could open my eyes. It's awkward being with your baby for the first time with arms out on the table, no sensation, and no power. Then they put Evelyn on my chest and the nurse told me I could move my hands and arms to hold the baby. Immediately my anger, disappointment, and sadness disappeared. I began crying tears of joy, my Evelyn was finally here. She stayed on my chest until we bathed her back in our room.
The nurse was so helpful to me to get Evelyn to latch. She did so well. It was amazing. Back in the room it was just me and Evelyn in her little hat that I made her, wrapped in her own afghan, and the nurse was cleaning some things up. I asked her, "so does this mean I can't ever have a vaginal birth?" It was then that I learned that once a c-section always a c-section was not true. As the hours passed I was having difficulty with nursing and the helpful nurse had left. I remember at two different times I asked for help and the new nurses response was, "you and your baby just need to get used to each other." WHAT!!!! Dumbass, that's not going to help at all. how about show me how to hold my baby so she can latch.
***
In hindsight I realize that my doctor wasn't really on board or comfortable with natural birth. I think her idea of natural birth meant hands off, no suggestions, no support. I think with more support, with people giving me suggestions things would have ended very differently.
Friends and family, in an attempt to comfort me (I guess) said the only difference between my experience and theirs was where the baby came out and it wasn't that big of a deal. To me it was and it still is. It is something that I want, that I deserve, and that should happen. Birth is important to me. All of it is an experience. It shapes the child and it shapes the parent. A mother should have control over her body. It's her right. A mother should not have to fight to get quality care, especially not when she is in the throws of labor. Birth is important. A mother's rights are important. i can't think of the words to articulate what is so heavy on my heart. So I will just say it again, Birth is important. A mother's rights are important.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Years of prayers, answered.
I have not been diligent about posting. It makes me kind of sad. But I am doing it now, so I suppose that will have to do.
For the past few months we have been attending the Vineyard Church. Often times it is just me and the girls because of Taylor's shift work, which usually means I am by myself (well until my friend Melissa and her husband arrive). Anyway, during one of the songs during worship I found myself starting to cry. I couldn't really put my finger on why and then I realized this has been happening often to me during worship. Then it dawned on me that perhaps this is my time of release. My time to just let things go. To just simply sit in God's presence. Today, I almost felt as though his arms were wrapped around me. All I can say is that God is so good. He is faithful.
For those of you that don't know, I've been very turned off to organized religion. At one point I thought there was no way I'd ever go back to any congregation. Every congregation is run by a man/woman and so like it or not there is going to be unrighteousness, unholiness, hypocrisy, etc ...doesn't matter who you are, what group you are affiliated with, that's just how it is. And unless you're God your place and your group is gonna have issues. So it didn't matter where I went I was turned off.
I also have not been willing to go just anywhere. I wanted a place with an established children's church, contemporary worship, solid teachings, welcoming community, small groups that fit my current need, laid back, people who remembered who i was from week to week, inclusive of a variety of teachings/interpretations, and a place where I could feel free to be myself. So like I said, God is faithful!
For the past few months we have been attending the Vineyard Church. Often times it is just me and the girls because of Taylor's shift work, which usually means I am by myself (well until my friend Melissa and her husband arrive). Anyway, during one of the songs during worship I found myself starting to cry. I couldn't really put my finger on why and then I realized this has been happening often to me during worship. Then it dawned on me that perhaps this is my time of release. My time to just let things go. To just simply sit in God's presence. Today, I almost felt as though his arms were wrapped around me. All I can say is that God is so good. He is faithful.
For those of you that don't know, I've been very turned off to organized religion. At one point I thought there was no way I'd ever go back to any congregation. Every congregation is run by a man/woman and so like it or not there is going to be unrighteousness, unholiness, hypocrisy, etc ...doesn't matter who you are, what group you are affiliated with, that's just how it is. And unless you're God your place and your group is gonna have issues. So it didn't matter where I went I was turned off.
I also have not been willing to go just anywhere. I wanted a place with an established children's church, contemporary worship, solid teachings, welcoming community, small groups that fit my current need, laid back, people who remembered who i was from week to week, inclusive of a variety of teachings/interpretations, and a place where I could feel free to be myself. So like I said, God is faithful!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Life is good, God is great.
I sat down yesterday and did our budget. Didn't look pretty. This time last year I would have likely had several break downs, had an internal fight with myself about going back to work full-time, and suggested to my husband to sell one of our two vehicles. But this time my reaction was different. Am I comfortable with how things look, not really. Did I let out a nervous laugh, yep. This time my reaction was: how can I make things stretch. So I took inventory of my food, actually took written inventory. We have our typical proteins: beef, chicken, hambone (from Evi'e 1st birthday) and fish. In fact we have quite a bit, thanks to my brother-in-law's near obsession with fishing! with my inventory in hand I started googling recipes, it didn't make the cut if it would require me to go shopping. Our next three meals look pretty good: broiled tuna steak with Chinese 5 spice marinade, ham and potato soup, and tilapia & scallop with garlic cream sauce. YUM!!!! Easy recipes and good food aside, I feel that not working fulltime is what God wants for me right now. So during this time we are trusting that things will be taken care of. We have to rest in that.
In other news, I did a major clean and organization today. What turned into sorting socks resulted in cleaning out a closet, a bedroom, and our upstairs living room. At one point Taylor said to me, "That closet looks great because everything that was in it is now all over the bedroom floor!" So am I really cleaning and organizing if I'm merely moving the chaos into another room? It does give me the feeling of accomplishment, so long as I don't go into the room that the stuff has just been dumped into! But really, I did manage to clean up all the messes (or nearly all) I made today. I went basically non-stop from about 11pm til 4! Whether or not Taylor helped me wasn't really an issue, I just wanted him near by. But he did offer, so periodically I gave him tasks. And of course at times Evelyn and Lucy completely emptied out drawers and shelves, only adding to the chaos. But that's ok.
Before Evie takes her nap and goes to sleep for the night we always try to read books, sometimes she chooses. This afternoon she selectd Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs. This book has always been so special to me, while I did not have an up or downstairs nana, I did have a next door Grammy. I didn't think much of it when she put it in my hands and plopped down in my lap, it had been many years since I had read the book all the way through so I wasn't sure what to expect. Half way through the book the boy's great-grandmother, nana upstairs, passed away. Immediately I began to cry. Evie, tenderly looked at me as I tearfully finished the book.
Life is good. God is great.
In other news, I did a major clean and organization today. What turned into sorting socks resulted in cleaning out a closet, a bedroom, and our upstairs living room. At one point Taylor said to me, "That closet looks great because everything that was in it is now all over the bedroom floor!" So am I really cleaning and organizing if I'm merely moving the chaos into another room? It does give me the feeling of accomplishment, so long as I don't go into the room that the stuff has just been dumped into! But really, I did manage to clean up all the messes (or nearly all) I made today. I went basically non-stop from about 11pm til 4! Whether or not Taylor helped me wasn't really an issue, I just wanted him near by. But he did offer, so periodically I gave him tasks. And of course at times Evelyn and Lucy completely emptied out drawers and shelves, only adding to the chaos. But that's ok.
Before Evie takes her nap and goes to sleep for the night we always try to read books, sometimes she chooses. This afternoon she selectd Nana Upstairs, Nana Downstairs. This book has always been so special to me, while I did not have an up or downstairs nana, I did have a next door Grammy. I didn't think much of it when she put it in my hands and plopped down in my lap, it had been many years since I had read the book all the way through so I wasn't sure what to expect. Half way through the book the boy's great-grandmother, nana upstairs, passed away. Immediately I began to cry. Evie, tenderly looked at me as I tearfully finished the book.
Life is good. God is great.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Chickens
The important thing that I learned about writing is that I have to do it even when I don't think I have anything to write about. So at times you may encounter randomness.
Today with my other mom friends we talked about money and budgeting, as we usually do. We all get by without assistance, for some it's harder than others. Some of us could qualify for aid, but don't use it. This has been something I've been thinking about for a while. So I asked them, if you qualified would you apply? One friend said her pride wouldn't let her. I could see that. I would be conflicted if we can make it without the aid but qualify for it can and should we use it? Would I be taking advantage of the system? What would you do?
Along the lines of budgeting we discussed food, particularly raising chickens. I think I may have convinced my husband that we should get chickens! I was told I need to do my research. I'm very excited at the possibility. We only be allowed to have 3 within city limits. Apparently they produce 1 egg a day. The girls and I go through nearly 3 dozen eggs in about 10 days. I can definitely see this as something that will save us money! I will share the research that I find. If I am really feeling ambitious perhaps I'll share the building of the coop, their roaming area, feed we choose, etc.
All this talk of chickens has me very eager to return to my research!
Today with my other mom friends we talked about money and budgeting, as we usually do. We all get by without assistance, for some it's harder than others. Some of us could qualify for aid, but don't use it. This has been something I've been thinking about for a while. So I asked them, if you qualified would you apply? One friend said her pride wouldn't let her. I could see that. I would be conflicted if we can make it without the aid but qualify for it can and should we use it? Would I be taking advantage of the system? What would you do?
Along the lines of budgeting we discussed food, particularly raising chickens. I think I may have convinced my husband that we should get chickens! I was told I need to do my research. I'm very excited at the possibility. We only be allowed to have 3 within city limits. Apparently they produce 1 egg a day. The girls and I go through nearly 3 dozen eggs in about 10 days. I can definitely see this as something that will save us money! I will share the research that I find. If I am really feeling ambitious perhaps I'll share the building of the coop, their roaming area, feed we choose, etc.
All this talk of chickens has me very eager to return to my research!
Monday, January 16, 2012
Taking care of me, back on the writing train!
Still figuring out how to do photos right, these are supposed to come at the end of the post.Before kids and even before marriage I had a blog. If I wasn't blogging than I was writing long emails to family and friends or writing in my journal. I love to write. I haven't done much of it in the last few years, and I feel as though a part of me has been missing. In recent weeks my situation as changed. I am now just responsible for my own family. No more in-home child-care. I am so thankful to God for all He has provided my family so that I can just be a mom and a wife!
So with the change in my situation comes more time and less stress. I have found that I am more patient. I am more apt to sit and play with Evelyn without feeling as though something needs to get done. I am cooking each day, more than boiled chicken. For that, I'm sure my husband is happy! I have organized my craft closet, because crafts are the thing that can be "mine" during the day. All this positive speak may change, as it's just be a few days in this new "life" of mine.
I really can't take much credit for the energy, patience, and positive disposition. I am trying to make a point at having deliberate conversations with God. Outloud. He, of course, knows what I am thinking, but I believe He wants us to actually talk with Him. It can be therapeutic. By saying things outloud I believe we are "giving" things to Him. The other thing that has helped is the last two days I have made a conscious effort to spend time talking to God and reading some kind of Christian book before making phone calls or turning on the computer. It can take me quite a bit of time to make it through a few pages because I am making breakfast for the girls and I and tending to all their various morning needs. There have also been several Christian albums that have been playing in the background all day. Often times it is just background music, but periodically when I stop and actually listen it is just what I need.
Evelyn is used to having such music play in the background. On several occassions now I have heard her sing:"I need thee, I need thee, I need thee" as she plays. She is so sweet and has a tender heart.
I mentioned above that I've had more time for crafting. My newest craft endeavors are: 1) decoupage on vases 2)cards. Both crafts use my scraps of fabric, finally putting them to use!
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