August 27, 2012 1:07am

Less than 20 hours after my water broke my baby boy came into the world.

I woke up at 5:30 thinking I had wet the bed. It wasn't wet, but I went to the bathroom just in case. I uncleanched my Kegel and there was a gush of fluid. I made no mess! I woke up Bryn and despite not having contractions to speak of and Martha's advice to rest, we were both awake and making sure we had everything we needed all packed up.

Boo woke up easily and we got her dressed and ready. My contractions got harder and regular at about 5 minutes apart. We called the midwife again and headed to the hospital.

En route I called and texted everyone who needed to know. My mom would meet us there. Bryn's mom was concerned for me but wanted to know how Bryn was holding up. Bryn's sister was MIA. This was not good. She was on Boo Duty. Turned out she was in class and would meet us at the hospital ASAP after class was done.

As it was a Sunday morning, there was no one at registration or information. I'm glad we had toured the hospital recently; we found the Birth Center without a problem.

I wasn't much more dilated than I had been on Friday, but I was 75% effaced. I walked. I sat. I watched TV with Boo. I played Uno. Bryn took me for a walk in the hospital proper. We looked at the art on the walls. We looked at the pretty garden. I didn't want to go out; it was too hot. We walked down the ramp towards the cafeteria and took the stairs back up. And we did it again. I tried to squat, but it just didn't feel right and I couldn't get back up. I wasn't getting anywhere. We talked about Pitocin.

I let the Pitocin conversation marinate for four hours.

I was at 2 cm at 11 am
I was at 2 cm at 3 pm
I agreed to the Pitocin at 7 pm

I resisted the Pitocin because it felt like failure. It felt like I was conceding. I was agreeing that I could not birth a child without medical intervention. My body, as rounded and feminine as it was, could not, on its own, give birth to a baby. I was also agreeing to a needle in my arm, a monitor on my ample waist, and a monitor for the baby. Instead of the happy-hippy ideal I had envisioned, I was getting a medicalized, monitored, machine-that-goes-ping birth. I'm not sure which I found more demoralizing, the failure of my body or the loss of my dream.

If I had been happy with Alex's birth, I may not have fought so long. As it was, I felt anger every time I thought about her birth. Artificially ruptured membranes, Pitocin, machine-that-goes-ping, IV fluids, episiotomy, and not seeing her for an hour after her birth all equaled me hating the birthing process - which was why I went with a midwife this time. To avoid all of that. The midwife nudged in the early afternoon, and then we flat out talked about it. Then I cried to Bryn about it.

Then I saw the worry and pain in his eyes during my contractions and when he saw the disappointment in my eyes every few hours when I was given the news that I hadn't dilated any further. I saw the worry and pain I was feeling reflected in his eyes and I knew that I needed the drug.

At 7:30 pm my drip was started.

This is when it was suggested that I labor in the tub. Hooked up to an IV stand, two elastic belts, hand itchy, contractions every three minutes is not when I would consider it to be the perfect time for a bath. Midwives are weird that way.

I was in the tub for less than an hour, shifting positions every few contractions, when I was told I had to get out of the tub. ...first you want me in the tub, now you want me out of the tub... I resisted just about everything the midwife asked me to do. Every position change was delayed by a couple of contractions. My main fear was that I would be mid-shift and a contraction would hit. I was afraid of being in an awkward position and being that much more uncomfortable if I was caught off guard like that.

At about 11:30 pm I was finally dilated to 9 cm.
At 12:30 am I had my midwife up to her elbow pushing my cervix out of the way while I was blowing instead of pushing. I really wanted to push. I mean, if you have never been in labor you will never know the difference between wanting to do something and needing to do something. There is a difference between wanting to push and needing to push. That line is filament thin and once broached, being told you can't makes one slightly homicidal.


At one point my midwife told me to try being on my knees. Suddenly, I felt really good about where everything was going. This was the position of my dream! I wound up (after dodging my IV line and threading around the fetal monitor line) on my knees leaning over the back of the raised head of the bed. I still wasn't allowed to push with every contraction - I wasn't fully dilated - but I was closer to my ideal birth position.

While I was on my knees I was alternately pushing and blowing through contractions. Martha wanted me to motorboat with my mouth. If your mouth is relaxed, the rest of your muscles tend to follow that cue. She wanted my cervix to relax so she could push it out of the way. I can't motorboat when I'm not stressed out. I just can't. I wound up just saying, "Bubububububububub..." and making Bryn and Martha giggle. It became a weird mantra for me to focus on instead of pushing. Om never meant anything to me; apparently, Bububub does.

I was Bububub-ing a lot, and not doing much pushing. I was getting pretty ticked off. Then I heard it! A baby crying! The woman next door had stopped screaming and I could hear her baby crying. If I listen to Martha and keep my focus, I'll have a baby too! Baby! There is a baby at the end of all this pain! Focus!

I needed to change position again. I was so focused on the baby, I didn't mind, much. I did have a contraction while rolling and navigating the lines and leads connecting me to the machines. It was just as miserable as I'd imagined.

I wound up on my back, slightly propped up. Not what I'd thought ideal, but everyone seemed to like it better. Martha, not the contractions, nor the cervix, was making me uncomfortable. She was trying to widen my pelvis and was sitting on the bed, with her hand in my foreshortened vagina and smack up against my bent right leg. I fought very hard against my desire to straighten that leg and send her onto the floor. I hated her hand. I was hating her. It was all her fault. It was her fault I had the Pitocin, it was her fault I was on my back, it was her fault I couldn't push, and it was her fault I was so uncomfortable. And then, I was allowed to push!

I don't remember how many times I pushed, but I ignored a lot of directions to push again. Sometimes I could only push once in a contraction, I was just too tired. I remember watching my mom. She was standing at the far side of the room, against the wall, with her hands at the small of her back. That is her pose when she's uncomfortable or unhappy. Something was wrong. I asked her if she was alright. She said she was fine and I had another contraction.

I pushed and pushed and eventually there was a baby on the bed with me. I was not really with it. I saw Bryn smiling and crying and cutting the umbilical cord. I thought we were going to wait for it to stop pulsing. Had it stopped pulsing already? You're restarting the Pitocin to help me deliver the placenta? I didn't speak. I was too foggy. Baby! Where is he? I can hear him! Martha was checking my placenta. It was whole. Here's the baby. Huh?

He was awake and alert, but with no desire to latch and nurse. That's okay, we'd get to that later.

Apparently, the Pitocin had been stopped at 10:30. I'd done the last 5 cm on my own. But the baby's heart rate had been dipping with every contraction at about the same time, that was why a lead had been put on his little head at that time. I was so concerned about the lead in his head that I hadn't noticed that my medicine had been stopped. The lead in his head was what was making everyone so anxious. Well, it was the numbers the lead was providing. His heart rate would dip to nearly 40 during contractions at the end. It would bounce back up, but it was really concerning everyone who could see the monitor. The rate didn't fall so much while I was on my back. Yes, I felt less productive, but it put less stress on the baby. Fair trade off.

Bryn cut the cord while it was still pulsing because the baby had to go to the warming table and be checked by the pediatrician who had swooped in with a pediatrics nurse at the last minute. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He hadn't even time to throw on a white coat. The baby's initial APGAR was a 3. They gave him a little oxygen and his second APGAR was a 9. The pediatrician looked just as happy as Bryn when he handed over my baby boy.

My perfectly healthy, beautiful baby boy.

The Due Date

Woke this morning to a call from the midwife's office asking me to meet her at the birthing center 2.5 hours earlier than my appointment was scheduled for originally.

We were rushing to get out the door when we got a call to meet her at the same time but at her office. We all breathed a sigh of relief and were still 5 minutes late.

I timed my contractions the entire way down there and they were about 7 minutes apart. We sat down to talk and she told me to stop timing them - it was making me crazy. She watched a contraction and we talked about how to breathe through them. By watching me, she knew I wasn't there yet. The system was "tuning up". I'd really like the overture to begin...

She did another internal and I'm still at 1 cm, but I'm about 50% effaced. BP was 120/60 just post contraction, so I'm feeling pretty good. My weight went down by 2 pounds from last week. 

This morning, I was queasy and (sorry, TMI) had the poops, so I was really hopeful that today was going to be the day. 

Contractions aren't regular. They aren't hard. They are down the front. I get a few that hurt down into my pelvis, but they are pretty rare. 

I kind of just want to hide in the house, curled up, watching movies, or playing Uno. I cry a lot. Jerry Nelson dying didn't help. I want Alex to have fun and go out. I want Bryn to get on with his day. But if I'm alone all I do is sleep. Or dwell.

Maybe I should get a babysitter for Alex tomorrow and take Bryn out to a movie and/or dinner. 

I'm terrified of missing the first days of classes... I have no contingency plan. This wasn't supposed to happen. The baby was supposed to be "early" or on time - he's a second birth. Bryn has a job interview. Alex has an open house for her new class. Stuff has to happen and ... stressing out is not going to help. But I can't really help it. 

I'll keep you posted.

Still Pregnant...

We have passed my original due date of August 21st. We are on the eve of the "official" due date. I have been having contractions for about four days now. We all sat around waiting on Tuesday. I really wanted to have the baby on Tuesday. I'm not sure why... Well maybe I have a few reasons.

I liked the idea of having a roaring Leo demanding to be the center of attention. I liked the idea of having a week before my classes started again to get used to having the little guy in the house. I just really wanted to have him on Tuesday. I was even ready... He had been pretty quiet, I had very little appetite, I had nothing in my digestive system to speak of; it felt right. Contractions never got closer together than 10 minutes and I could talk through all of them. 

Yesterday, Bryn convinced me to get out of the house and get my mind off of it. We walked around downtown for a little bit. Not much of an appetite. Stronger contractions, but still 14 minutes apart...

Today, I said to heck with it and told Bryn that I planned to go run a whole bunch of errands - on the bus. He vetoed the bus idea and we all went to Big Lots. I went for printer paper. We spent over $70. Good thing we brought the car. Then we took Alex to see ParaNorman. Bryn and I both figured it was our last chance for us to do something just for her for a while. We didn't tell her about it until we pulled up to the theater for fear I'd go into labor and disappoint her. It was a really good movie and she enjoyed it (even though she was scared through a lot of it). She also got a nosebleed in the middle of the movie. That was pretty upsetting too. 

I fell asleep in my chair after dinner, so Bryn sent me and Boo to bed at the same time. I tucked her in  and tried to go to sleep myself. Didn't work. I snuggled with Bryn for a bit. I cried. I whined. I'm uncomfortable. The belly is in the way of everything. My hips hurt. My pelvis hurts. My wedding ring is getting hard to take off. I'm hot. Contractions are about 10 minutes apart... 2 more minutes, consistently, and I can call the midwife. But no... and the last one was 20 minutes ago... I'm not sure I'm ever having this baby. 

Midwife appointment tomorrow afternoon. I'll keep you posted.

Quick Update

Went to the midwife today. I've gained 7 pounds in the last week. It's all water-weight, but it cracked Bryn up. I just kept nudging the little weight and he kept saying, "no...", "no...", "you're kidding...", "really?", "no...", "How did you do that?" I had no answer for him, other than, "I just had a banana."

The midwife was not surprised. She says that I'm going to sweat it all out in the first week or so... Like I'm not sweating enough as it is.

I asked for a cervix check. I know that it doesn't predict anything. I know that I could walk around for weeks dilated to 3cm, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know if I was doing anything productive. I'm about 1cm and 25% effaced. My cervix is positioned correctly and the midwife could feel the baby's head and he's positioned well. I cramped a bit after she poked at me, but it wasn't too bad.

I've had about four contractions today. The closest together they've been is 25 minutes.

We toured the birth center again. The nice nurse who showed us around reiterated the midwife's advice: rest, drink, eat. Nap, snack, drink. Be rested, hydrated, and have calorie reserves. Not really a problem. I'm always tired. Always hungry. Always thirsty. I put on a movie that I kind of want to watch and fall asleep before the opening credits are over.

Hopefully, I'll get to spend some time in the hospital in the next few days. I'll keep you posted.

Anxiety

The diapers arrived this morning. I have 80 small prefolds, a diaper can with liner, 2 brand new Snappis, a tiny bottle of baby powder, a little tin of diaper salve, a new cloth shopping bag, and a thing. It's a little wafer of something in a plastic package. I'm not sure what it is; I should probably email the nice lady from the diaper service about it...

Eighty diapers is a lot of diapers. I had to do some serious rearranging of stuff. But I also now have diapers so I packed the baby's hospital bag.

My hospital bag is already in the car. I'm bringing my own johnny coat. It's been washed so many times that it's super soft, unlike the new ones that hospitals stock. I've also packed my black wrap dress, old but clean panties, the super soft and comfy sleeping/nursing bra that Bryn's mom sent me, toothbrush & toothpaste, Tylenol, comb and hair ties, and the really sweet pj set my mom got me. I probably won't wear all of the set - I'd hate to get it messed up with bodily fluids, but it has a short nursing top and a jacket for keeping me warm.

We have a cosleeper, we just have to set it up. We have a cradle in the living room, we're just waiting on a mattress for it. I found the Amby and washed all the bedding and set it up in the living room. I took it apart again because it takes up a lot of room. Push comes to shove: the cradle can go into storage and the Amby can go where the cradle is now. So we do have a place for the baby to sleep if he comes this afternoon.

We have diapers, clothes, a bed, a sling, I'm making colostrum (I leaked a bit last night)... Why am I so scared?

The midwife and my therapist both say it's because I've done it before. The first time, you don't know what to expect. What does a contraction feel like? How much could it possibly hurt? How long could it possibly go on? Women have been giving birth for millenia, how hard could it be? And that's just labor and delivery stuff. That doesn't even include the baby stuff.

I think I've mentioned that Bryn is looking for work. His contract wasn't renewed, so he's on unemployment. But that didn't kick in until last week because he had to go through an adjudication period before his waiting period. My ex-husband hasn't paid child support since May. The Office of Child Support sent me paperwork about taking him to court. Again. My loan disbursement isn't due for at least another week. This all might have something to do with the anxiety, on top of the stuff I know to expect.

I will not have Pitocin this time, so that should make my contractions more bearable. The lack of pitocin should also make my labor more productive. Since I won't have the pitocin, I won't need the Stadol, which should mean that the baby won't have a slow heart rate. Hopefully, this time there won't be meconium in the waters. Hopefully, this time I won't need an episiotomy. Hopefully, this time the baby will cry and I'll be able to hold him within an hour of birth.

I'm just anxious. I was up for over an hour last night just trying to breathe and stop crying. We all know everything is okay. Bryn tries very hard to soothe me. Alex is excited. Why can't I stop panicking and enjoy this?

Well, Thursday was lousy...

I have mentioned my midwife and the office and sung their praises to the heavens. I know that everyone in that practice has my best interests at heart. That said, my last appointment was really frustrating.
Bryn and I wanted to get pregnant before I tried to find a job. I've explained this before. We cut it really close to the beginning of my school year with this pregnancy, though. My due date is the Thursday before classes start on Tuesday. This upset my midwife. She wants me to think about deferring for a semester.
I would love to defer for a semester. However, it's not an option. We would lose my loans and we would lose our home. Those things cannot happen. I must remain a "full-time" graduate student in order to keep my money and my home. I also have a thesis I must work on to stay on track. And quite frankly, I want to get the hell out of Burlington and UVM as soon as possible. Martha didn't seem to get it. She just kept pushing for 12 weeks of bonding.
I want that more than anything in the world, but it's not going to happen. I will be wearing the baby to class, nursing in class, reading and writing with the babe in my arms. I know this. I have to do this - it's not an option. Bryn is stressed out enough and didn't need to hear any of this. He confided to wanting to throw pillows at Martha through most of the meeting; she just didn't seem to be hearing what we were telling her. How do you not hear: homeless and penniless with an infant and 7 year old if we take your advice? There was very little compassion for our situation, just insinuation that I was being selfish and unrealistic.
Bryn has been pretty stressed out anyway. Today was his last day of work - his contract was not renewed and he has only received one call back about a job in the last three weeks. His doctor is concerned about his blood pressure. We have to go to Canada on Sunday to settle his father's estate. Arguing with the midwife was not something we needed to add to his To Do list. His BP yesterday was 162/112. Needless to say, I didn't want to add to his aggravation.
When we went to bed last night, I had to spend a little too much time in the bathroom. After four trips to the bathroom, unbearable cramping, and completely voided bowels, I curled up in the recliner for a couple hours of sleep. I got one. Braxton-Hicks contractions suck. From 2am-7am, I was in a lot of pain. I kept denying that they were contractions. They were irregular. They were weirdly timed. They just felt "off". It was easier to tell myself I'd had some bad brisket for lunch.
Bryn felt sorry for me and I just mumbled that I loved him and sent him to work. I crawled back into bed praying that the contractions wouldn't start again. Alex crawled into bed with me at about 10 and watched Sesame Street for an hour before asking for breakfast. So I got 2 hours of sleep.
After talking to the nurse at the midwife's, who told me my iron was low and I need to supplement, she confirmed that I'd been having contractions. Yes, the voiding of the bowels is normal. The nausea that accompanies the contractions is normal. Why don't I remember this?
When Bryn got home from work I told him that they were contractions and he was upset that I had kept that information from him. He appreciated that I let him sleep and that I didn't want to stress him out any more than he already was; but if I was scared and in pain he didn't want me to be alone. All I could think about while I was in pain was that he'd had a dream about me going into labor before the Canada trip and he was all stressed out the next day.
Anyway, Thursday sucked - and I'm including through 7am Friday morning because I hadn't slept yet.
It's over now. And I am grateful.

Other Births I've Known...

So I wasn't actually there for most of them, but I've heard some great birth stories in my time. I'll start with the one I'm most familiar with, my own.

Mom had a great pregnancy. She was chopping firewood the week before she went into labor. She contracted poison ivy in the dead of winter making rubbings of gravestones in Pennsylvania just a few months before I was born. She had planned me. She made appointments with Dad to conceive me. Apparently, I was transverse through most of the pregnancy. I was manually manipulated to be head down and about halfway home I'd flip around to where I was comfy again.
When Mom was admitted to Mary Hitchcock, the nurse told her that she'd never deliver me vaginally. 46 hours later, the head of obstetrics and the head of anesthesiology attended my "emergency" c-section. Since my grandmother couldn't get there for her, my mother had a picture of her young mother holding her in a plastic bag under her pillow through the surgery.
The cord was wrapped around my neck 3 times. Even if Mom's pelvis had spread enough, I would have choked myself. I spent about a week in the NICU.
As a nurse, my mom was the focus of attention in the maternity ward. The baby nurses (what she calls newbies) were using her like a guinea pig. The tried every breast pump they could find on her. After a while, Mom asked what they were doing with all the milk they'd pumped. One of the baby nurses told her, very sheepishly, that they were giving it to the preemies. They hadn't told her or the other mothers for fear that someone would object. It was just that they tolerated it so much better and they thrived on it. Mom offered to nurse them, but it was felt that that was a bit too much. Mom didn't object to pumping after that.

My mom's best friend had three kids and all I remember about the stories is that they were all gushers. She ruined rugs when her water broke. Not helpful in the birthing story area, but darned amusing.

My grandmother had my mother in Philadelphia, I think. She was in the hospital overnight. She was heavily medicated, but not before learning about baseball. Apparently, Gram was alone in the maternity ward and a young attending physician was tasked with sitting with her. The Phillies were playing and they listened to the game on his little radio and he taught her about baseball. She never became a fan of "good" teams; but she took me to my first professional ball game. We watched a lot of baseball together. If her team made it to the World Series, she would hide in the closet and peek her head out for updates periodically.
I'm not sure why, but she never taught my mother about baseball. She taught me.

Her mother, my great-grandmother had no idea she was having a baby. She was in her forties and had been married since she was a young woman. She assumed she was going through "the change". She was a heavy-set woman and assumed a few things about her diet and her indigestion, but eventually called over her sister. Her sister called over the next door neighbor lady, a midwife. The consensus was that she was in enough pain that they should call the doctor. Apparently, he was in the house less than five minutes before exclaiming, "There are three women in this house and not one of you recognizes a woman in labor!?!"
My grandmother was born that night and she was so small that she fit in her father's overcoat pocket. She was yellow. A young cousin was allowed to name her, and she did, after her French china doll: Beatrice.
Since they had not prepared for her and they didn't expect her to survive, she was put in a well padded drawer on the open oven door to keep her warm and the doctor said he'd be back in the morning to pronounce her.
He walked in the door the next morning and was greeted with a screaming infant. She'd made it (and she never shut-up again. And we wouldn't have wanted it any other way.). He told my great-grandmother that she'd better feed her or she really wouldn't survive.

My best friend and birth coach for Alex had two children before I had Alex. The first, she was in labor for 4 hours - start to finish. The second only took 2. She said something about peeled grapes that I don't think I will ever fully understand. For someone who experienced such short and complication free deliveries, she was an amazing birth coach for me.

Alex's birth was long, protracted, and not something I would like to repeat. It could have been much worse, granted, but it could have been better.
Contractions started on Thursday evening. They were finally about 3 minutes apart by 3pm on Saturday. I went into the hospital and was told that I was fully effaced, but only 2cm dilated. At 6pm, my doctor ordered Pitocin. At midnight, he told a nurse to restart my Pitocin and she told him that she would - right after I got a good night's sleep. I was only at 4cm. He came to see me in the morning while I was having breakfast. He complained that I was still not back on the Pitocin and only at 5cm. The nurse (different one) told him that she would restart it after I'd finished breakfast. Some time in the pain haze that was Sunday, the doctor ruptured my membranes. There was meconium in the fluid. At about noon, I was given Stadol to alleviate the pain of the contractions. By 6pm, I was taken off of both medications. It was just me and my contractions.
I was very happy pushing in a squatting position, but eventually I was manhandled onto my back. A nurse had my left leg and she directed Alex's father to take my right. She told him to pull - he couldn't hurt me. I felt a coldness on my perineum and my baby was born at 9pm. She didn't cry.
I asked the doctor what he was still doing between my legs, which were now in stirrups. He was closing the episiotomy I had expressly asked him not to give me.
I was foggy and hazy for a while, but when she was finally handed to me at 10pm I was in good spirits. I had  delivered Alex naked. When the pediatrician was on his way out I asked him if, since he had seen me naked, could I call him Elliot, he replied that I could, just for that night and left. My little girl was perfect in every way.

I have spoken to a few midwives about Alex's delivery and the consensus seems to be that the episiotomy was probably needed, but someone should have said something to me. The Pitocin probably could have been avoided, and if the Pitocin hadn't been administered there likely wouldn't have been a need for the Stadol. We all agreed that the nurses were wonderful for letting me rest and eat.

I have discussed Alex's birth with my midwife and we are in agreement that we will try for a less medicated birth. We have also agreed that if anything medical needs to happen, I will get talked to before it happens. I'm not just going to be a vessel; I will be part of the delivery team this time. And I will nurse within the first hour. Everything is going to be perfect. I've seen it!

Baby Stuff

The last post was really light on baby stuff. I'm going to try to make it right with this post.

Today was my glucose test. With any luck, good results will be returned to us on Monday. I failed the one hour with Alex - but passed the three hour; so I'm a little nervous. I ate a good breakfast of tea, eggs, and toast - no jam, juice, honey, or sugar, so I actually felt nearly human when I arrived at the office. The blood draw went scary. The first nurse checked both my arms and called in the other nurse. The second nurse got one good vial and then I just stopped flowing halfway through the second vial. Hopefully, they have enough for the tests they want to run. 

On the 25th I got my hemoglobin tested and it was 12.4 - my goal was 11, so my iron levels seem to be good. I am producing about two pounds of blood this trimester, so I need all the iron I can get. It also ups my clotting factor...

Twenty-nine weeks today. 

My appointments will be every two weeks from now on - and I've scheduled all of them! I'm getting scared. 

The baby is moving like crazy. I get to watch him move. He can stomp on my bladder and elbow my lungs at the same time. He has woken me from a sound sleep. Bryn giggles every time the baby wiggles under his hand. Alex has only felt it once. There is something about her hand that just calms the baby right down. 

I mentioned a box from a friend a while ago - more clothes and diapers have arrived. My sister-in-law sent over a few boxes - and there are a lot of woolly knitted things. Then a friend sent over more clothes and diapers. Seriously, I am ecstatic! I don't think I'm going to need any more newborn diapers. I have more clothes than the little booger could wear before he outgrows them. Now all I have to do is wash them, organize them, and figure out where the heck to put them. The apartment is looking kind of small but a lot of that is camping stuff, baby stuff in bins, and bags full of Alex's stuffed toys. Once the lice scare is over, the toys will go back to her room. The baby stuff needs to find a home. The camping stuff needs to find a home. The rest of the place needs to be cleaned up. 

I've wanted comfort foods lately. Pierogis. Mac and cheese. Graham crackers. Chocolate. Ice cream. Warm and creamy is the ideal, but ice cream is the exception. And I want a lot of ice cream. All the time. 

I've registered Alex for a Big Sibling class. They will tour the maternity ward at Fletcher Allen, learn to diaper and swaddle, and they are going to make birth day cards for the new baby in their family. 

Bryn and I still need to register for birthing class. Insurance will pay for the 10 hour long class, it will not pay for the 5 hour refresher... The one weekend long class is the weekend before I'm due. The other option is five Wednesdays in a row (or Tuesdays or Thursdays, etc...). This is not going to work out well. Bryn and I need to go to Canada for a week in July. No matter which course we register for, we will miss one class because we'll be out of the country. We're also going to need a babysitter for Alex. I'm starting to wonder if I really need to do this... I know I do. I just hate that nothing has been easy lately. 

Nothing ever is though, is it?

Baby for the Midwife

Bryn drove me to our midwife appointment today. We left 15 minutes late and arrived only 6 minutes late. The drive seems really long from the passenger seat. And the hospital is another 15 minutes down the road and we've only been there once and I was driving. I will not be driving when I'm in labor. I will also be lousy at giving directions. I think I'm going to need to let Bryn drive to the hospital, just to practice, at some point this summer. Panic attack over. For now. 

Our midwife is going on maternity leave. I'm not sure how I feel about this. She is leaving the Friday before Memorial Day and won't be back until the first week of September. Unless I deliver over a week late, she will not be at the birth. She is hopeful that I will deliver on time. I have had appointments with the other two midwives. I really liked one of them. The other one was brusque and I didn't like her as much. She is the one my next appointment is with. Perhaps she was just having a bad day. We'll see.

The next appointment my glucose gets tested. They only stock the orange flavored stuff. I'm not looking forward to it (says the woman who just ate a pint of lemon sorbet). And we are going to schedule another sonogram for 32 weeks. The placenta is attached close to the cervix and they want to make sure that while my uterus is expanding the placenta placement is moving further up. Apparently, if the placenta is placed too close to the cervix when the cervix opens the placenta becomes prematurely detached and bleeding commences. Lots of bleeding. Like, Mom is going to need a transfusion bleeding. 

This visit: I gained five pounds since my last visit. I had lost 15 between my pre-pregnancy visit and my first prenatal visit - and it had stayed off. So, I'm down 10. So far, everyone is okay with this. My uterus is 24cm which is perfect since I'm 24 weeks along. Considering that I had an internship interview, had to visit the courthouse, missed my bus, and was a passenger in the car to the appointment my blood pressure was a lovely 162/80 and the baby's heart rate is about 140 bpm. 

So this was a pretty boring update, but... better boring than not boring at this point. 

First Exam

There are three midwives at Tapestry Midwifery. Heather is the one with whom we started (that just sounds awkward, but I have an ancient English teacher screaming in my head), but she is pregnant and may not be back from her maternity leave before I deliver. Bryn and I decided to rotate through the midwives and get to know all of them as a matter of principle.

Today we met with Martha and her shadow. Alaura (sp?) is a midwife in-training and she sat in on my appointment and took my blood pressure. I was raised in a medical household, so I tend to be completely fine with trainees observing and helping - they have to learn somewhere. I'd rather have a doctor, nurse, or midwife who was allowed to listen, observe, and help than one who was constantly denied the opportunity while still learning. I treated her like a shadow and practically ignored her. I feel a bit guilty about that, but for those of you who have had "female" exams before, I think you may understand my detachment.

Bryn and I started by telling Martha how the pregnancy was progressing and how different this one is than Alex's. Instead of my face clearing up and feeling fantastic, I have completely broken out, I am queasy and exhausted. Martha smiled and gave me the old rote about no two pregnancies being alike. She also said that there are some OTC things I can do for my face and if it comes to it she can recommend a dermatologist consult. I think I'll stick it out. Martha mentioned rosacea and having read about it, I have to agree... I'm really not happy about this. She also mentioned that my blood work came back good, except my iron levels are where she would want them at 28 weeks - I need to step it up. Ugh...

We talked about my last pregnancy and her delivery and my labor and Martha reassured me that Tapestry is probably a much better fit for me than my old cranky OB had been. I don't want to get into Alex's birth story. But Martha had worked with the man who replaced my old OB and we agreed that he was very sweet and worth the hour trip for an annual Pap.

Down to the exam. Blood pressure was done by the shadow 110/74, which is perfectly normal but a bit high for me. But I'M GOING TO HEAR THE BABY! So I laid back, Martha gooped my belly (apologizing that she needed to use the goop, when the baby is bigger and easier to get at they use coconut oil), and ran the microphone over my belly. She had mentioned that it's still a little early and it may take a while to find it yet, but she pressed the mic down and slid it half and inch and "swishswishswishswishswish" loud and clear. I think Bryn came up out of his chair. The look on his face was amazing. He looked shocked and surprised and thrilled and so full of love. I thought he was going to scoop me up abdomen first and press his ear to my belly. We are going to bring Alex to the next appointment so she can hear too.

Obviously not me, but so you know what we were hearing:


And I am in my 12th week, so the heart rate is pretty accurate.

After listening to the baby, Bryn was asked to leave. This is the part of the exam that I dread and is no longer safe for children to read about. This is where I get asked about my past, my triggers, and whether or not I am safe in my current relationship. Ugh... I blamed my flashbacks and nightmares during Alex's pregnancy on the OB asking me those questions - I hadn't been thinking about any of it before he brought it up - it's all his fault! Well... not so much. Obviously. Most women who have been abused or assaulted have control issues and there is no control over what your body is doing during pregnancy or labor or delivery (well, a bit, but not nearly enough) and pregnancy is inherently sexual so all those vulnerabilities resurface and wreak havoc on a pregnant woman's mind. For some women a certain body position will freak her out for others it has situational triggers: showers, mustaches, Aspen cologne... For me there's one of each. I explained about Bryn shaving his face clean and kissing him and I had terrible nightmares, so he grew back his facial hair. Martha "awww"'d and phrased the next question gently, "So you feel safe in your current relationship?" instead of "Do you?" which I think was nice of her.

This next bit is more biological. My chest is clear, my heart sounds good, I got swabbed for chlamydia, the walls of my vagina are healthy and pink, and I have a "lovely" purple cervix. The shadow actually called my cervix "lovely" and I thanked her; it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said about my cervix.

The swab for chlamydia will prevent the baby needing eyedrops. As I will be nursing immediately and eternally (if you've been there you understand), the Vitamin K shot will be unnecessary. Now all I have to do is figure out how to get around the Hep B vaccine. In talking to my mother, the RN, the Hep B is to protect the baby from the hospital. As the kid will be rooming in with me, not mopping up blood, swapping needles, or having unprotected sex, I think I may be able to get out of the hospital without the shot. I hope.