Nicholas' Birth Story

Our sweet, unplanned little boy, Nicholas Charles Daniel Robben, was born on April 8, 2014, 4:58 pm, weighing 8 lbs 9.5 oz and was 21" long.  This is the story of his birth.

At 38 weeks to the day, my water broke on Sunday, April 6th, around 4:15 pm.  This time was different than with Anne, however.  Unlike the forceful gushing I had experienced with my daughter, it was much smaller.  The midwives called it a "slow leak" and figured it was a high rupture rather than right above my cervix.  I had been experiencing some extremely mild contractions (like very light menstrual cramps) off and on about 2 hours apart but nothing serious.  I called my doula, Renee, who had also been our doula for Anne's birth, and told her my water broke and then promised to keep her updated.  She was in Chattanooga at the time but came back home thinking my second birth would move even faster than the first one did.

Having no real contractions to speak of, my mom-in-love and I went to WalMart to kill time and bought Anne some spring clothes.  Then we came home and sent Anne home with Kristian's parents thinking we'd be having a baby that night.  The contractions continued to be so mild as to be barely noticeable and an hour or two apart.  I woke up once during the night after having a small contraction thinking they were finally going to get going and I got up and walked around my house for about an hour.  Nothing.  I even tried using my breastpump to try to get them moving.  Still nothing, so I went back to bed.

The next morning I still wasn't having any contractions to speak of so Kristian and I watched Game of Thrones to kill time.  I paced the floor, walked the stairs, sat on my birth ball.  Nothing.  We knew that at the 24 hour mark I was required to visit Intown Midwifery at the hospital and have a stress test done to make sure Nicholas was healthy and fine.  Trying to go into active labor before that point, we decided to go walk around Sugarloaf Mills Mall for awhile.  Walking was supposed to be a tried and true motivator for contractions, right?  All it did was make me exhausted, so after about 3 laps we went home and I took a nap.  Also during this time, Renee called to say she needed to make a 6 hour round trip back to Chattanooga to pick up her husband and kids.  Fortunately, knowing that Teresa was going to back her up made it a little less stressful.

24 hours rolled around and still no baby and no contractions, so we headed to downtown Atlanta to go to Atlanta Medical Center for the stress test.  The test that I was told would take about 30 minutes resulted in a 2+ hour stay at the hospital as we waited for all the results.  Nicholas was healthy and fine, and had plenty of water to float around in, and I was doing fine though I still wasn't having any contractions, so the midwife discharged me and we headed back home.  We went to the Movie Tavern by our house to have dinner and watch Captain America : The Winter Soldier.  Great movie!  Still no contractions.

As we left the theater, I got a message from Teresa saying Renee had tire trouble and could not get back until about 10 am the next morning.  At this point, after waiting for a day and a half for this baby to make his appearance, it just felt like everything kept going wrong.  I was getting scared and paranoid that my body would never go into labor on its own and I would have to be induced.  I was scared that if I had to be induced it would lead to a c-section.  I just broke down.  The wait wasn't physically tiring but it was very mentally exhausting and I just sat on our bed and cried.  Kristian was amazing and tried to make me laugh to calm me down.  Renee sent me text messages reassuring me that everything would be okay.  I finally went to bed and slept reasonably well all night.

The next morning, as I was making breakfast around 10 am, I felt a pop in my pelvis and my water really gushed this time.  I started having mild contractions about 20 minutes apart.  We ate breakfast and decided to go visit Anne for a little while since it seemed like I'd definitely be having a baby that day and we missed our little girl.  We hung out with Anne at Kristian's parents' house until it was time to head back to Atlanta for another stress test at the 48 hour mark.

On the drive to Atlanta, my contractions starting getting closer together, about 6-10 minutes apart, but still didn't require me to work through them so I didn't think much of them.  By the time we got to the doctor's office they were about 3 minutes apart and I was starting to feel them enough to have to pause and focus.  Kristian kept trying to encourage me to skip the doctor visit and just head straight to the hospital (about a mile down the road, thankfully), but I kept thinking it still wasn't quite "go time."  We had the ultrasound done, and the contractions got closer together.  The tech told us that Nicholas' head was so far down in my pelvis she could barely find it.  We were going to wait to talk to Dr. Bootstaylor about the results but I had a very strong contraction while we were waiting and decided we needed to head to the hospital after all.

As we walked through the Emory Midtown Medical Office building I kept having to pause and work through the contractions.  They were coming swift and hard, and all the sensation was in my pelvis this time.  It was very different than when Anne was born, and while not entirely surprising considering the pelvic pain I'd had for the past 2 months, the pain was much more intense than I remembered.  This actually *hurt* and I was struggling to let go to get through the contractions.  We finally made it to the car and headed to the hospital.  On the way there, I hit transition (the hardest part of labor right before the pushing stage) in the car.  Again, just as I had with Anne.  The pain and pressure in my pelvis was so intense I actually told Kristian I thought I had to push already, forgetting that it was probably just transition.  Kristian ran a red light and pulled into the ER lane in the wrong direction trying to get me to the hospital as fast as possible!

I waddled into the ER and immediately told the person at the desk that I needed a wheelchair.  Someone finally got me one and took me up to the 7th floor.  I knew that Linda was the on-call midwife at the time, but as I looked up at the nurses' desk, Anjli was there. I was so excited when she said she had time to stay for a bit to see if she could be there for Nicholas' birth.

The contractions were coming fast and hard, and all the pain was centered in my pelvis.  It wasn't a sharp pain, more of a bright pain if that makes any sense.  I kept picturing them as being yellow and orange in color for some reason.  I insisted on standing and leaning over the bed to do the required stress monitoring.  Kristian helped me through the contractions by rubbing my back as I did slow hip circles.  At some point the contractions got too intense for me to stand anymore so I crawled up on the bed on my knees and positioned the back of the bed vertically so I would have something to hang on to.  Renee arrived shortly after that and stood behind the bed facing me and gave me words of encouragement to help keep me focused.  I had Kristian play my Lindsey Stirling Pandora station on my phone.  My mom arrived and I knew everyone that I needed was there.

I don't remember what she said exactly, but I know there was a moment that Renee said something that made me realize I was still fighting the contractions because they hurt so much this time, and that I needed to let go and sink into them to help Nicholas move his way down. It took every ounce of willpower I had to push myself into the sensations I was experiencing and to work with them instead of against them.  Between contractions I had a running mantra going through my head... "You can do this, you can do this, you can do this..."  and  "you're a badass, remember?"  A few times I giggled at myself for using that thought to keep going, but it was the first thing I had said after Anne was born and I knew believing it would help me birth Nicholas.

Finally I heard someone say they could take the monitor off me and get me in the birthing pool.  A few minutes later I heard the most glorious sound in the world behind me...the sound of vinyl being slid across a tile floor.  Renee and I had a good laugh as I'm sure pure relief washed over my face just at the thought of getting in the water.

Once they got a good foot or so of water in the pool they helped me in and I positioned myself on my knees again, with hands clinging to Kristian and Renee's hands.  The heat of the water pouring out of the hose onto my back felt amazing as someone held it for me. It wasn't long before I needed to push.  The position I was in might not have been the best for getting Nicholas out as quickly as possible, he definitely didn't come in "three pushes."  But I was afraid if I turned over and used the same method that got Anne out, he might come too fast and I would tear.  So I stayed on my knees.  This time the ring of fire lasted much longer because it was harder to push Nicholas out, and I was pushing as hard as I possibly could.  I remember being vaguely worried that my screaming might upset Kristian but I couldn't help it; the pain was excruciating.

Finally, I felt Nicholas slide out of my body and suddenly there were voices behind me telling me he was coming forward between my legs and to reach down and pull him out of the water.  I caught my own son as he emerged from my body and as I pulled him out of the water and up to my chest, I burst into tears.  I did it, I had birthed my son and everything had gone just as I had wanted.  I wasn't pregnant anymore, which was the biggest relief.  And I was holding a beautiful miracle in my arms.

We got him to cry and then everyone remarked on how much he favored Anne when she was born. My mom cut the umbilical cord and then they handed Nicholas to Kristian so I could get out of the tub.  I was given time to hold Nicholas and start breastfeeding him before the nurses came back about an hour later to get his stats.  I will never forget looking up at Kristian as he watched the nurses weigh and measure our son from across my bed and seeing nothing but pure love in his eyes.

Nicholas was born on Tuesday afternoon almost 49 hours after my water had broken on Sunday afternoon.  It felt like it took an eternity for him to arrive, but once active labor actually started it was only 2.5 hours later until he was born.  0 to 60 in no time at all.  I am so grateful to have been with such a wonderful practice as Intown Midwifery to let nature take its course and let me birth him naturally rather than forcing me into any kind of induction or other intervention.  Linda was great, and I was so happy that Kristian, my Mom, Renee, and Anjli were all there.  And best of all, I finally had my baby boy in my arms.

What's New in the Robben Household

Life with a toddler is hectic at best, and things just seem to keep barreling forward for us.  I'm pretty sure life isn't going to slow down again until Anne moves out of our house, and even then it will still likely move at the speed of light.  Just maybe not the speed of light times 10.

Anne is now obsessed with Dora the Explorer (pretty great kids' show), and has watched Lilo & Stitch more times than I care to count.  Had to ban that one for awhile though; Anne started adopting Lilo's tantrum style and I am not okay with that.  Cinderella, Tangled, and Peter Pan are also among her favorites that she has now made us watch a million times.  Note to new parents:  don't introduce movies to your kids that you don't like, or you will regret it.  Thankfully I love all of those.  I'm looking forward to the weather warming up and us getting outside more, though.  I'd rather Anne not watch as much tv.

We've introduced the One Bite Rule in our house and have had amazing success with it.  Sometimes it even makes her realize she wants to eat the entire serving of a particular food.  I jump for joy if any of those foods happen to be green!

Anne still sleeps in our room on a mattress on the floor.  Considering how often we either end up sleeping in her bed with her or she crawls into ours at night, we're still not ready to move her to own room.  We have started talking about it with her, though.  Maybe for her third birthday we'll attempt to start the transition.  Mostly I want her to be able to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night by herself first.  She still needs help getting onto the toilet right now, but at least if she's by my bed and wakes up I can get her to the bathroom before she has an accident.

Anne loves stuffed animals but doesn't seem as drawn to dolls.  She chose a Minnie Mouse at the Disney store over all of the beautiful character dolls for a gift recently.  She has started climbing at the playground but still doesn't climb all over stuff the way some kids do.  She really doesn't get into things she's not supposed to, either.  Terrible Twos Meltdowns aside, she's a really well-behaved kid.  So far anyway. She still loves books (hooray!!) and has started making up her own games ("The tiger is coming, mommy, get on the couch!!")  She likes to color and paint, play on playgrounds, and run laps around our house.  She likes to go for stroller rides to watch the cars zoom past on the busy street near our house.  And, my favorite, she still loves to snuggle.

Kristian and I are doing better than ever.  Sometime last year I started scheduling date nights for us and it has done wonders for our relationship.

Anne Update!

I know I'm going to miss some things, but figured I should record some new milestones.  Anne is 23 months old.  These are the things she's doing now. Some of these things she's been doing for a couple of months, actually.

* Singing songs like Baa Baa Black Sheep, Wheels on the Bus, ABC's, and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  Over and over and over and over....

* Dressing herself (except shirts, those are still difficult for her) and choosing her own clothes to wear every day.

* Bathing herself (except her back. Mommy still gets that)

* Using the potty with only the occasional wet accident here and there.

* Talking in 5-6 word sentences on a regular basis.

* Demanding that she do everything herself.  "Anne do it!!" is all we hear lately.

* No longer breastfeeding.  Our last session was about 6 days before she turned 23 months.  Anne was probably not ready, as she still cries for it when I get home from work sometimes, but Mommy was ready.  She's getting used to it though because I still snuggle her as soon as I walk in the door and I think she's realizing that's what she really wants anyway.

* Playing with stuffed animals and dolls and having "conversations" with them.

* Requesting to spend time at Mimi and Papa's house.  She can't get enough of Kristian's parents.

* Still sleeping on a mattress next to our bed.  I'm not ready to move her to her own room yet.

* Drinking out of real cups (instead of sippy cups).  Pretty good at using utensils and actually prefers them over using her hands most of the time.  Likes broccoli, peas, carrots, and corn and that's about it for veggies.  Sausage is still her favorite meat.  And of course she loves mac&cheese (what kid doesn't??).

* Knows some letters of the alphabet, but not all and is not consistent with telling them to us.  Knows all of her standard colors and some shapes.

* Can color small pictures and mostly stay in the lines (when she wants to lol)

* Loves to help us do things like bring in groceries and put the dishes away

* Likes to play with cars

* Likes to tease me and Kristian with who is her favorite for the day.  For example, we will ask her if she is "Mommy's sweet girl," and she will often respond "Daddy's sweet girl!"

* Seems to be enjoying Bible class but still won't let me leave her in there by herself for the whole time.  Working on that.

* Can "help" me read a book if it's one she's heard a million times.  I will read part of a sentence and let her finish it.  She can do this with Chester, Corduroy, Thunderhoof, Dora : Day at the Beach, etc.

* Loves to play at the park on swings and slides.  Still not much of a climber though.

The Potty Marathon and Beyond (part 2)

Or otherwise known as three of the most stressful days of my life, but it was successful so I guess it was worth it.

Friday was nothing but accidents.  I can't remember if we had a successful trip before bedtime now or not, it's such a blur, but every other time was an accident.  Two things I had to do differently from the method I found on Pinterest : (1) I put Anne in undies, not let her run around naked.  For one, I don't have linoleum or tile floors, I have carpet.  The undies helped keep a handle on the mess (though still not great, but better than nothing).  For two, she didn't want to be naked, she wanted to wear the undies and it wasn't worth fighting her over; and (2) because Anne refuses to sit on the kid potty, we didn't have the option of staying in one room with a potty in the middle of the floor for her to run over to.  Fortunately Anne is very verbal already, so we worked on her telling us she needed to go and then we would run to the bathroom.  Or we would run as soon as she started to have an accident.

A tip for carpeted floors:  cover the floor in baby blankets or towels in the rooms you plan to stay in.  Whenever Anne had an accident, I could just pick up that small blanket or towel and throw it in the wash, and it helped keep most of the mess off the carpet.  I still feel like I need to steam clean my whole house, but it definitely helped.

Saturday showed some improvement but it was a roller coaster of Anne cooperating with sitting on the potty and screaming and crying whenever we set foot in the bathroom, despite the fact that she had told me she needed to go.  The first time she fought me like this, I gave in and we went back downstairs...and she had an accident 5 minutes later.  So for the rest of the day, whenever she said she had to go but then tried to back out of it, we hung out in the bathroom until she either gave in and sat or started to have an accident.  There were times that we didn't leave the bathroom for 45 minutes because Anne has master bladder control and would hold it just to try to avoid sitting on the potty.  Fortunately for both of us, I'm more stubborn than she is.  But at the end of the day we were getting more pee in the potty than out of it, so I felt like we were making progress.

Another thing that helped other than hanging out in the bathroom (and therefore inches from the toilet in case she started to go) was that I took a baby doll meant for the bathtub and filled it with water and let the water drain out into the kid potty.  The drain hole is conveniently located to simulate peeing.  So I would let the baby doll "pee" into the kid potty and then I would praise the baby. "Good job, baby! You peed in the potty! yay!"  Anne thought this was the best game ever, and I think it gave her a visual to see what we were trying to accomplish.  Regardless, she seemed more cooperative after we started doing that.

Sunday was much like Saturday, but with less accidents, and less time spent hanging out in the bathroom before she would agree to sit on the potty.  Still a lot of resistance when I would take her into the bathroom though and that was extremely frustrating.  Then we went to Kristian's parents' house and Anne walked right in and peed like she'd been doing it her whole life and I felt much better that she got the concept and knew how to do it, even if she was being stubborn.    I also discovered that part of Anne's resistance was that she didn't like me just swooping in and pulling her pants down and putting her on the potty.  She wanted to be in control so I started telling her to tell me when she was "ready" after we got into the bathroom, and encouraging her to use the step stool.  This made a world of difference. The sticker board and glow bracelets also continue to be a huge hit.

Monday morning I felt confident in sending Anne to school in undies, though I was prepared for her to have several accidents (the teachers had warned me that her first week would probably be a little rough).  She did ok her first day, but not great.  More accidents than anything else.  Tuesday was the same.  Wednesday, however, she had no wet accidents, only poop.  Thursday was the same as Wednesday.

And then today...today I got Anne to poop in the potty and I couldn't have been happier.  This time I had to do the naked method.  She tried to go, got up, and I just left her undies off because I knew she'd been holding it all day.  Sure enough it worked, within 5 minutes she was wanting to go back to the potty.  I just reassured her that I knew she could do it and we just waited and it happened.  She was so excited to finally get a "poop prize" and she wanted me to read her "Princess of the Potty" book again...and then called herself a "Potty Princess."  I think she recognized that she had finally done everything the girl in the book does.  Here's hoping that once is all it took to convince her that using the potty for #2 is not only something she *can* do, but something she prefers doing.

She also went potty at the park, and got out of the tub halfway through her bath to avoid peeing in the tub.  Today is day 3 of no wet accidents, and day 1 of zero accidents at all.  I don't want to jinx it, but I think it might be safe to say that I have successfully potty trained my 21 month old daughter :-)  It took about 8 days total (4 of which were at daycare).  But I think those initial 3 days were crucial.  Granted, we still have night training, but she's been staying dry at night since she discovered she has control of her own bladder.  So I'm thinking that might be a breeze...hoping anyway. :-)

Best tip I got : Put her in underwear and go for it.  Definitely worked and we didn't have a long drawn out process with pull-ups.  Everything else was tailoring the process to my daughter's personality and needs.

I am a happy and proud mommy :-D

Adventures in Potty Training

Everyone has their method for this it seems and I'm absolutely stealing other people's ideas so I'm not claiming to have come up with any of this on my own.  Also, no clue if it's going to work or not since we're still in the middle of the process, but I wanted to keep track of how things are going.

Several months ago Anne's Grammy bought her a Disney Princess potty to keep at her house just to introduce Anne to it.  By some miracle, Anne (who was only about 18 months old at the time) sat on it and actually peed so I got excited and got Anne her own Dora potty (that she picked out) for our house, as well as one of those little seats you can hang on the side of a real toilet and pop into the seat when needed.  The Dora potty may have been a waste of money as it quickly became nothing more than a step stool to get to the sink easier as Anne refused to even sit on it for the most part.  But, I kept encouraging her to try it and kept talking to her about using the potty.  I think over the past few months there may have been 3-4 total instances of Anne actually going in the little potty either at Grammy's house our ours, but we did get her to sit on it occasionally.

With her second birthday rapidly approaching and knowing that Anne would be moving up to the toddler classroom at school soon, where they potty train on real mini-sized toilets, I started looking around for information on how to go about doing this.  Originally I wanted to spend the week of our vacation in early July trying to train her, but our schedule filled up quickly with social activities and I knew I wouldn't have the time; also, her school wasn't planning on moving her up until August.  During this time I came across a potty training method on Pinterest that involves 3 days of extensive training that involves letting them run around naked and using big kid undies and you pretty much don't leave the house for 3 days because all you do is focus on potty training.  It also encouraged using "potty prizes", one bag for pee and one bag for poop, to help encourage them to use the potty.  There was more to it but that's the general gist.

So I found a three day weekend at the end of July and set it aside.  Then, in preparation for the Potty Marathon, two weeks before the Potty Marathon weekend I bought Anne a couple of books about potty training for kids (Princess of the Potty, which I highly recommend because it's very detailed and teaches kids the whole method, including sometimes waiting and nothing happening, and accidents; there's a Prince version too) and an Elmo book that plays "potty songs" (classic kids songs with new words about using the potty).

We read Princess of the Potty when we're hanging out and we sing the potty songs while she's sitting on the potty.   I started making a more concerted effort to get her to sit on the potty, and was pleasantly surprised when she preferred the pop-in seat on the real toilet (less mess for me, yay!).  

Since we were trying to put her on the potty at home, I asked the school to start working with her and they decided to go ahead and move her up to the toddler class.  That seems to be working out fine as Anne was already familiar with the room and the teachers in there.

This weekend we bought her "big kid undies" and a whole bunch of $1 potty prizes (thank you, Target, for your $1 bins).  I separated some of the bigger, cooler items into a poop prize bag and some other things like stickers and glow bracelets into the pee prize bag.  I left out a big sheet of smiley stickers to use when she at least tries to go; if she succeeds she'll get a bigger prize.

A note about big kid undies:  ignore the weight reference on the package, manufacturers are idiots.  According to the size chart my 30 lb daughter should be in a 4T, but those would be huge on her as the 2T/3T size fits perfectly with a little bit of room for growing.  Buy one pack and try them on your kid before settling on a size.

I started out giving her stickers if she at least tried, and I'm still doing that, but at first she didn't really know what to do with the stickers (and I didn't really want them plastered all over my house).  So I bought a poster board and hung it up in her room where she can reach it, and now if she gets a sticker I tell her to go put it on her "Potty Board" and she happily runs in her room and sticks it on the poster.  Also, the smiley stickers are hanging out of her reach but in sight in the bathroom, so when she sees them she knows what they're for.  She's also very excited about the prize bags but has only earned one bracelet so far, which she may or may not have bamboozled me out of.  Not sure if she actually went or not, but after a day of mostly refusing to sit on the potty, I was so happy that she initiated on her own that I let her have it anyway.

Had a quick test run this weekend with the undies because when we tried a pair on Anne to make sure they fit okay, she didn't want to take them off.  However, after 3 pee accidents and then pooping in them, which I'm sure felt absolutely awful, she asked for her diaper back.   I was happy she tried them out at all, but also happy she was okay with going back to her diaper because I wasn't ready yet to send her to school in undies this week.  She's not ready for that yet.  Hopefully *next* Monday she will be in undies and we can ditch the diapers except for at night.  Not doing night training until I feel like she has a good grasp on daytime trips.

This adventure is as confusing for me as it probably is for her because some days she does just fine with taking trips to the potty and then some days she will refuse it completely all day and then initiate on her own 3 times around bath/bedtime.  The refusing is frustrating for me.  The one constant that she seems to be good at is right after her bath.  I tell her  "no pee in the tub" so I think she actually tries to hold it; she always wants to get on the potty immediately after getting out of the water whether she's gotten dry or not.  These are the few times I've actually heard it and know she was productive.  And I think she's beginning to really notice when her diaper is wet and that she doesn't like it because sometimes she will tell me "Potty!", and her diaper will be wet even though she doesn't want to sit very long on the potty.  I don't know if we're just not making it to the bathroom in time, or if she's telling me after she goes instead of before.

I'm just really hoping that by Sunday of this weekend, she's basically gotten it down.  I really don't want to have to keep her in diapers, but if she doesn't make any real progress I'll have to.  Guess we'll see!

So I turned 32 yesterday...

Wasn't the best of birthdays, been sick for several days and quite frankly turning 32 held little to no appeal for me, but it turned out well enough because I have an amazing and loving husband who remembered I love roses and greeting cards and good food, and because I have amazing and loving friends who reminded me they care about me.  Not the least of which was the singing phone call from one of my oldest friends. Was good to laugh between coughing.   So I guess in the end I can say it was a pretty good birthday after all.

2012 has been a hard year for me, though only a few people knew this.  Just a lot of introspection, self discovery, and fighting some internal battles.  But thanks to taking a leap of faith recently and putting trust in a woman I have come to love and adore like a sister, I feel like things are starting to finally come together in my head.  I'm starting to feel healthier on a mental level than I have in years.  And now I have someone to help me fight those internal battles.  Somewhere along the line I had forgotten that as humans we need each other's help to get through the hard stuff.  I only wish I had asked for help sooner. And I love my husband with all my heart and soul, but sometimes you just need a woman's perspective.

I can't possibly list all the things I've learned in my grand ole 32 years of life, but a few things I learned recently have some weighty importance to me.

1)  I have to love my friends for who they are, not who I want them to be.  This might mean that some friends are not as close as I would wish them to be because of differences I can't get around, but I can't expect a person to be someone they're not, and I have to love them for who they are. Realizing this has made some of my friendships so much better.

2) Ask for help even if it means taking a leap of faith and putting trust in someone regardless of how terrified I am.  If I'm scared, that should be a good indication I need someone to help me through it.  Life is not a one woman show.

3) I'm not perfect.  I can reinvent myself as many times as I want, but my inherent demons are always hiding in the shadows.  Which means I have to fight them back, every single day.  If I want anything good in my life, this is not an option, it's mandatory.  Refer to (2) above for help accomplishing this.

I always feel like my birthday is actually my "New Year", not January 1st.  So here's to making this year better and healthier than the last.

Bedtime Bliss

Putting Anne to bed last night was one of the most enjoyable moments I have ever had as a Mom.  

We've worked out a new bedtime routine that includes nursing her, letting her play on the bed for about 15 minutes, and then having her lay down next to me until she falls asleep (during which time she can continue to play with a toy or look at a book as long as she's laying down).  It's working reasonably well as long as I remember to be patient with her and not try to force her to do anything.

Last night when I told her it was time to lay down, she snuggled up to me, laying on her side facing me as I laid next to her.  Taking this moment as an opportunity to enjoy the closeness and her willingness to lay there with me, I started asking her yes/no questions about her day.

"Did you have fun at school?" (nods yes)
"Did you get to color today?" (nods yes and smiles)
"Did you get to play with construction paper?" (nods yes)
"Did you play on the bridge?" (shakes head no)
"Did you play in the  toy house?" (nods yes)
"Did you sing any songs?" (nods yes, grins, and makes the hand motion that means Itsy Bitsy Spider to her.  At which point I sang the song for her, twice, and we had fun giggling together)

I continued asking her questions for several minutes, including naming some of her classmates and asking if she played with them.  She grinned extra big when I mentioned a little boy named Junior... uh oh ;-)   At one point she just babbled for awhile and I listened and made appropriate comments to encourage her to keep "talking" to me.

It was amazing.  We had a whole conversation.

When I ran out of questions to ask her, she wanted to look at some books. I talked about what I saw in the pictures since she didn't want me to read the actual stories.  She fell asleep with a book on her chest, still curled up in my arms.

It's these moments that make it all worth it, that make parenting the best thing in the world.

New Cute Things My Daughter is Doing

* Anne eats at the table with us now, with her own plate.  Except she often picks her food up off the plate and puts it on the table next to her (which is not cute).  But if you ask her to put the food back on her plate, she does it :-D

* I often sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider to her when I change her diaper because she loves the hand motions.  She has a little hand motion version she does to tell me she wants me to sing it.  Yesterday we were in the kitchen and she did the hand motion to tell me her diaper needed to be changed. Smart kid.  Potty training soon?

* She can *almost* blow a kiss. She's got the noise down and the hand to her mouth part down.  She just hasn't put it together yet.

* She knows the "clean up song" and will help me put her bath toys away now.

* She gets how to blow her nose from watching us even if she doesn't put enough force behind it.  I was blowing my nose yesterday and she grabbed a tissue and mimicked me.

Small Milestones / Anne Update

* Anne likes to dance!  If she likes the music she's listening to, she'll sway back and forth.  It's adorable.

* Pointing at what she wants is her new favorite form of communication.  It helps a lot, actually, though sometimes it's hard to tell just what she's pointing at, which sometimes results in crying until I get it right.  It must be very frustrating to be a toddler.

* I thought "Up" was going to be one of Anne's first words, because I swear I've heard her say it, but it hasn't been consistent enough to count.  On the other hand, she does know "Cat" and "No".  So we have four words now, Dada, Mama, Cat, and No.  I'm rather pleased that Cat was basically her first word :-).  She also said Dog this past weekend, but only once or twice, and any small animal is usually a "cat" right now.

* She calls nursing "Nam" which I think is a butchered version of "Nom," since that's what Kristian and I call it.

* She's been off bottles since she turned 1, and I'm slowly shifting her to cow's milk (served in sippy cups) so I can stop pumping at work.  I'm down to 1-2 pump sessions a day now (instead of 5) which is a HUGE relief for me.  Much less stress.  She also didn't nurse at daycare this morning for the first time, so I guess that's the end of that routine.

* Speaking of nursing, I no longer have to nurse her to sleep at night.  Our new bedtime routine consists of me nursing her while I sit on my bed, then while she's still awake I hold her with her head on my shoulder, rock her, and sing to her until she falls asleep. Then I put her down on her bed, make sure she stays asleep by patting her or singing some more, and then enjoy the rest of my evening.  I am loving this routine because it means I'm not stuck to her until she passes out, and it means I'm not falling asleep and wasting the few precious hours I have to spend with Kristian at night.  We're making progress.  Next goal is to night-wean her.  I severely miss sleep.

* She loves to play outside.  I intend to encourage this as much as possible.

Anne's Birth Remembered

When I wrote Anne's birth story originally, it was a week or two after she was born and I wanted to remember all of the details.  It's a fairly accurate play-by-play account, but after reading many birth stories written by other women I realized that I often forgot to mention how I *felt* throughout the experience.  So, in honor of Anne's first birthday, I am rewriting her birth story, as I remember it now. 

The week leading up to Anne's birth was excruciating.  I had recurring lower back pain that made the hour long drive to and from work complete agony, and I had to borrow a heating pad to put in my chair because every few minutes the pain would get so intense I would have to stand up to get it to go away.  I woke up several times at night and had to walk off the pain in my back and hips.  I was miserable and even though I was not quite 37 weeks along, I was ready for Anne to arrive.  I kept telling myself it was just my body's way of preparing me for the grueling work of labor.  Looking back, I can't help but wonder if I was actually experiencing early labor pains, but I have no way of knowing for sure.  It certainly wasn't what I thought a contraction would feel like, and I was still three weeks away from my due date, so I assumed that it wasn't, but I guess it could have been.   The morning my water broke was the first morning in a week or two with no pain.  I should have known something was up when I got in my car that morning and didn't feel like crying from discomfort the whole way to work.  But I had just seen one of my midwives for a checkup 2 days before and she assured me I was nowhere near ready to go into labor, so I didn't think anything of it.

Pregnant women often pee on themselves (go ahead, laugh, but it's true; you try having bladder control with a baby kicking you there), so when my water broke the first little trickle didn't clue me in.  I just grimaced, got up and went to the bathroom, and then came back to my chair.  And then it happened again.  Little bells went off in my head.  It couldn't be pee, I just went to the bathroom!  But that would mean...oh my gosh, my water just broke!!  I almost felt dizzy I was so elated as I ran back to the bathroom.  The world was spinning.  I wasn't due for three more weeks!  Kristian's mother had gotten on a plane for Philadelphia that morning!  I almost couldn't believe it was happening.  I was also mortified to discover that when your water breaks, it happens more than once (with each contraction).  Thankfully one of my bosses lives nearby and brought me some towels.  I called my doula to make sure I wasn't crazy and then I called Kristian to let him know.  He was considerably calmer than I was.  I was already beginning to feel a little spacey and frazzled.

Some women immediately experience strong contractions when their water breaks, but I felt nothing.  I called my midwife, Anjli, agreed to meet her at the hospital to get checked and make sure everything was okay, and finished up one last thing at work before I headed over to the hospital.  It was incredibly difficult to concentrate on that last document, the world felt like it was spinning faster than it should be.  I waddled into the hospital with a towel slung between my legs (I was completely unprepared for my water breaking at work).  I was too happy and excited to care that I must have looked like a total idiot.  I walked up to the nurse's station and explained my condition and that I was meeting my midwife.  Not realizing they were going to try to make me check in, I was confused when they asked me if I was having a water birth.  It took me a second to realize they were asking so they could get the tub set up.  I emphatically explained that I was not staying since I was not feeling any contractions yet, which led to a slight argument with the head nurse and signing a waiver so I could leave.  My midwife checked me out, said everything looked fine, that I was having contractions even though I couldn't feel any pain yet, and then sent me home.

As I drove home to wait for my body to go into active labor, I looked at the beautiful blue sky and couldn't help but feel like it was a perfect October day.  The weather was absolutely beautiful.  Knowing I would need strength later, I stopped and grabbed some food on the way home.  My mom and her then-fiance (now husband) Ray came over to help me around the house and wait with me, and Kristian came home from work soon after.  I was already well into "laborland" by this point.  Everything felt surreal and I had a hard time concentrating on much of anything.  I think it took me an hour to pack our hospital bag and it really didn't have that much in it.  My mind was already turning inward to prepare for the marathon my body was about to endure.   I was excited, nervous, and happy.  My little girl would be here soon!

After we packed our bags, Kristian and I laid down for a nap.  I didn't sleep because I was too excited, but it was good to rest for awhile.  Around 7:00 pm or so I had a strong contraction and I happily told Kristian.  It was enough that I knew it was a contraction, but it mostly just felt like a strong cramp at that point.  My Mom and Ray had gone to get us dinner from Cracker Barrell, so we went downstairs to eat when they got home.  I stood up from the table and had another strong contraction around 8:00 or so as I tried to walk up the stairs into the living room.  This time it was intense and my body temperature shot up; I was hot, and sweating and I needed Kristian to fan me with a paper fan while I waited for the contraction to subside.  I remember hanging on to the railing by the kitchen stairs, breathing through it and a little surprised at the intensity.

The details after that get a little blurry.  I stood in my living room while Mom, Ray, and Kristian watched me and talked to me as the contractions started getting closer together.  I used a variety of pain coping methods, including blowing horse lips, hip circles, swaying, breathing, etc.  I leaned against the wall during one contraction, swaying, picturing my body opening, and with Kristian by my side the whole time.   I made a few trips up and down our stairs.  At some point the contractions started coming right after another and were so intense that I started moaning and slapping my legs to keep a rhythm, repeating "open" over and over in my mind.  I just went with the flow of my body, and let it take over.  I never felt afraid.  I was only barely aware of the other people around me, I just did what felt natural to me, which included standing and moving around.

At some point Kristian, my Mom and Ray started to look concerned and suggested we head for the hospital.   I remember feeling unsure, like surely it had to be harder than that before it would be time to leave, and last longer, it had only been a couple of hours.  Not that it wasn't intense, because I was definitely working hard to get through each contraction, I just felt like I was coping well, and I knew I wanted to labor at home as long as possible.  The spacing of the contractions is what convinced me to go, though; they were practically right on top of each other and very strong.

We headed for the car.  I remember Ray tried to guide me with his hand and I shook him off, I didn't want any men to touch me except my husband.   It wasn't anything against him personally, I was just following my body's natural instincts.   I climbed into the back seat and immediately regretted it.  People had told me I would want to lay down on the drive to the hospital but laying down was the last thing I wanted to do, right next to being seated.  I wanted to stand.  But Kristian was already pulling out of the garage so I stayed where I was.  On the drive down to the hospital (which was about an hour from our house but I think we got there in under 45 minutes) I moaned and beat on the windows with my fist. I remember feeling glad there was no traffic as I watched the highway and street lights slide past the window.

In the midst of the car ride I was also in the middle of a flurry of phone calls trying to organize a doula being with me because my doula, Renee, had an emergency and the back-up doula was with a client.  In the end I got to keep Renee but it was crazy trying to handle that while I was in the middle of having extremely intense contractions.

When we got to the hospital I forgot that they close the front entrance after 9:00 pm until I was already out of the car and at the door.  At this point I could barely walk, but the thought of getting back in the car sounded so awful I started to try to walk around the corner of the building toward the ER entrance.  I didn't get very far because I could barely move and had to stop every foot or so to manage another contraction.  Eventually we convinced a nurse or someone to let me in a side door.

We headed up to the 7th floor.  I distinctly remember being pissed off that the nurses were making me fill out paperwork and show my photo ID while I was clearly having extremely strong contractions, moaning and slapping my legs to get through them.  I waddled to my room once they finally admitted me (where was the scene where you're whisked off in a wheelchair like in the movies??) and stood by the bed.  I vaguely remember my father-in-law bringing my mother-in-law into the room (she had gotten a flight back that day because I wanted her there for the birth) and my instincts again told me the only male I wanted near me was my husband, but I waited for him to leave and didn't say anything.  The nurses strapped the strip monitor around my belly and I wanted to murder them for the next half hour or so.  I was beating on my legs so hard it made the monitor jump and they couldn't get a clear reading; my midwife had to hold the monitor on my belly to satisfy the nurses and by that point I had already told one of them that I hated them.  They finally removed that torture device and Anjli ordered the nurses to fill the birthing tub.

I asked myself if I wanted any pain meds just to test myself, and my answer to myself was "Nah, I got this."  Even as strong and as close together as the contractions were, I knew I could do it.  I wasn't afraid, I was just trusting my body to do what it was supposed to do.  It was a roller coaster ride and I wasn't getting off until it was over.

I told my midwife I felt like I had to push, and she told me to go with it, so I did.  I pushed and my knees buckled and I sank to the floor.  She stripped my pants off me and I got on the bed after that and labored on all fours.  It's amazing how much you have no sense of modesty when you're in labor, it just doesn't matter anymore.  Anjli had me lay down on my side for a cervical exam to see how far dilated I was.  Laying down was the worst, my contractions were almost unbearable in that position.  It was the only time I remember feeling like the pain wasn't manageable but fortunately I wasn't in that position for long.  I had been told that cervical exams were painful, but because my contractions were so intense I welcomed the different sensation; it almost felt good just because it was a different feeling.  Anjli checked me and told me I was 8 to 9 centimeters.  I couldn't believe I had already gone through transition, which is said to be the hardest part, and I shouted "Hell Yeah!!!" when she told me.  (thinking back, I shouldn't have been surprised since I was already pushing, but I've never been known to be logical anyway)

Soon after, the tub was ready and I climbed into that glorious warm water.  I didn't bother to change, I just left my t-shirt and bra on.  They turned off most of the lights in the room so it was nice and dark.  I couldn't believe how much better the water felt; the weightlessness took the pressure off of the edema in my feet, ankles and legs, and my contractions finally spaced out enough that I got a break between each one.  I kept my eyes closed most of the time, I was completely focused inward on what was happening with my body, and I hung on to Kristian's hand and Renee's hand for dear life.  Anjli rubbed my back through the contractions, just a light touch but it made it so much easier for some reason.  I knew the moms were off to one side.  I felt safe and I continued to let my body take over.

At one point I opened my eyes to see the beautiful moon shining through my window and I knew it was a moment I wanted to remember.  I got such a long break between a couple of contractions I almost fell asleep on the side of the birthing pool.  Pushing was a lot of work.  It didn't hurt as much as the other kind of contractions, but it was still really intense.  It's really more like an involuntary convulsion, a lot like pooping, honestly.  Kristian and Renee kept encouraging me through the contractions, telling me that I was strong and that I could do it, which helped me a lot. At some point Renee suggested I internalize more of my moaning and let the contraction build more before pushing, and that seemed to help me make more progress.

I had no sense of time throughout my labor once I got to the hospital, and I only had a vague sense of what time it was before we left.  I didn't want to know how long it was taking because I didn't want my brain playing mind games with me if it was taking a long time.  It didn't matter to me if my labor took 8 hours or 30, I just wanted my body to do what it was supposed to do, and I was trusting that it would take exactly as long as it was supposed to.

That being said, I did get really exhausted at one point.  I started whimpering after each push because I was so tired.  Anjli told me to reach down and I could feel Anne's head in the birth canal.  As my fingers touched her squishy little head and I realized how close she was, a renewed sense of energy washed through me.  She was so close!!  So I pushed some more, and kept touching her head to see if she was making any progress.  I started getting tired again and was somewhat dismayed that she didn't seem to be moving any, and I asked Anjli why she hadn't crowned yet.  She and Renee suggested I switch positions.  I went from being on my knees to squatting, but I had a hard time holding myself in that position, so then I leaned against one edge of the tub while Kristian held me under my arms and Renee and I held opposite ends of a twisted sheet.  Whenever I had a contraction I would pull on the sheet, and she would hang on to the other end, and I used the leverage to help me bear down.

I don't know how many pushes it took while holding on to the sheet, but I don't think it was many before Anne started to crown.  Anjli told Kristian to look and he exclaimed "Holy crap, there really is a person in there!"  I laughed.  The moms started cheering with each push, really encouraging me to push hard.  I started to get excited.  Finally they told me "one more!!" and I pushed harder than I ever had before.  My low moaning ripped out of my mouth in a scream as I felt like my bottom was being torn in half, and I knew what they meant by the phrase "ring of fire."  It was literally the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life, but it was over almost as quickly as it began.  I still had my eyes closed so I didn't see Anne appear in the world but I felt every single inch of her body slide out of mine.  The swiftness of her exit after I had been pushing for so long was a shock, but then I was holding her in my arms and looking down at this wet gooey creature with brown hair.  I had a moment of panic and asked Anjli to make her cry so I could be sure she was breathing, so she rubbed Anne's back and I heard my daughter's voice for the first time.

I was too exhausted to cry but I was definitely in awe of this tiny creature in my arms.  The vernix wasn't as gross as I thought it would be, and I was surprised to see that the umbilical cord was blue.  My Mom cut the cord when we were ready and Anjli took Anne from me and handed her to Kristian so I could get out of the tub because I was starting to get cold.  I stood up, shivering, and realized it was all over.  I had done it!  No epidural, no other kinds of pain meds, no interventions.  Everything had gone beautifully.  I told everyone in the room "I'm a BADASS!!" and climbed out of the tub to laughter.

(Kristian holds Anne for the first time)

They wrapped me in a warm sheet and helped me to the bed where Anjli helped me deliver the placenta (uncomfortable but not really a big deal after birthing a baby) while the nurses did all the initial tests on Anne.  They were out of Ibuprofen and one of the nurses handed me some pills.  I asked what they were before I took them from her and she told me percocet; I angrily told her no because I needed to breastfeed and asked Kristian for some Aleve we had brought with us instead.  I delivered a baby without pain medication, I certainly didn't need percocet afterward!  Anjli brought me a sack lunch and I ate the best tasting turkey sandwich I've ever had in my life (only because I was so hungry).

They handed my daughter to me and I immediately put Anne to my breast.  She latched on like a champ.  Kristian stood by the bed and I was in complete awe of this little girl that we created.  For a few moments we were the only three people in the world.

Anne was born at 2:34 am on Saturday, October 16, 2010, after being in active labor for approximately 7 1/2 hours, approximately 3 hours of which was pushing.  She weighed 7 lbs 11.5 oz and was 20" long, with blue eyes and light brown/auburn hair.

None of the things we had packed for labor ever made it out of the bag; the lights, the music, my swimsuit top, none of it. The only thing in the room that was planned was the vase of dozen red roses my Mom had bought us.  Kristian hooked up our Christmas lights afterward and it gave a nice serene glow to the room, along with the Atlanta skyline shining through our window.  Kristian's parents stayed long enough to hold Anne before they headed home, and my Mom and Ray came back the next day. We spent the night in the delivery room and moved to postpartum the next morning.

And tomorrow, October 16, 2011, she will be 1 year old and my sweet baby girl will no longer be a baby, but a toddler.  It went by too fast, but I have many more moments to look forward to.

More Adventures with Anne / Parenting

* Anne drank from a regular cup (no sippy lid) for the first time last night.  She did great as long as she was drinking.  Mastering putting the cup down without dumping all the water everywhere will apparently come later.

* Anne's eating habits have gotten progressively pickier.  She will eat any fruit I put in front of her, but she hasn't been as keen on vegetables lately.  She loves sausage, I think probably because it's soft and easy for her to chew.  I'm hoping the pickiness is a phase.  I'm sure my friends who thought I was nuts when we decided to do Baby Led Weaning are laughing at me.  Oh well, it was worth a shot, right?  I still like that she feeds herself even if the mess does make me want to scream sometimes.  And I'm still hoping we will succeed in steering clear of the typical "chicken nuggets" kid diet.

* She's walking all over the place now, and with soft soled shoes.  It's crazy how fast they learn balance.  She can stand herself up in the middle of the room, while picking up an object in each hand.  It amazes me to watch her.

* I'm really enjoying "teaching" in the nursery at church.  I really do love babies, and it's super easy.  Much easier than I expected.  I guess new things just make me nervous in general, but I'm glad I decided to do it.  Will probably do more rotations in there even after Anne moves up to the next class.  I miss the sermons and worship, but the babies are so cute!

* I saw an example of the kind of parent I DON'T want to be the other day.  I was in the process of getting Anne out of the car at the grocery store, and the mom next to me was loading groceries into the back of her CRV.  She had two little boys, probably around the ages of 6-8 or so, who were trying to help her.  It caught my attention because she snapped at her son.  Conversation went something like this:

Mom:  "NO! Those don't go THERE!  Stop, just stop and GET IN THE CAR."
Boy:  "But, Mom, we're just trying to help you!!!"  (clearly has feelings hurt and is upset)
Mom:  "Well, you're NOT helping.  Just get in the car!!"

It was all I could do not to ask her son to help *me* instead, I could have used an extra pair of hands right then.  Now, I realize maybe this Mom isn't always like this, maybe she was just in a hurry, maybe the boys had already gotten on her last nerve, maybe she apologized for being so mean after they got in the car; I'm not trying to be judgmental, everyone has bad days.  But if you take the situation on its face, I really hope I never treat Anne like that.  The  mom could have found a way for her son to help that wouldn't have been in her way (hand the groceries directly to her instead?) and then the boy could have helped (a good and valuable thing to do) and would have prevented his mom yelling at him.

* On the other hand, my friend Heather let her 4 (?) year old son help her push the stroller carrying his baby sister into the church on Sunday and I thought that was pretty awesome :-D

* Anne's birthday party is Saturday.  I'm about 1/2 ready, at least shopping-wise.  I still need to clean the house, buy food, and cook.  Good thing Caitlin is coming over Friday night to help me!  Also, maybe since my Dad will be at our house he can help me watch Anne so I can clean.  I *might* have gone a little crazy with this party.  I've promised Kristian that for at least the next 2 years we're only doing something small with family.

Dear Anne : September 26, 2011

Life has been crazy and hectic lately which is why you turned 11 months old a week ago and I'm just now getting around to writing this.  Speaking of, I can't believe your birthday is in 3 weeks...but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Let's see, new things you can do....it seems like overnight you went from crawling to pulling yourself up on the furniture to cruising to taking your first steps!  I happily got to see you take your first steps on September 15th.  I was home sick with a stomach virus and Grammy was over helping me take care of you.  I stood you up and you walked into her arms!  I was so happy I almost started crying, I was really afraid you would do it at daycare and I'd miss it.  You've gotten braver since then and will occasionally try to walk from one piece of furniture to another or from us to an object.  The farthest I've seen you walk so far is about 8 steps across our living room.  I'm sure in another week or two I'll be chasing you around everywhere.

You've gotten better at shaking your head no or yes when you want or don't want something.  Your eating habits seem to have gotten pickier lately, a lot more food is ending up on the floor, but I'm not sure if it's a phase or if it's because you have a raging cold right now and don't feel like eating in general.   You can put objects into bags or bowls now instead of just taking them out and unpacking and repacking your diaper bag is endless fun for some reason.  You've discovered the tupperware cabinet and love to pull out the bowls and lids all over the kitchen.  It's fun to watch you try to match the lids with the containers.

You enjoy pushing your musical table or our dining room chairs across the kitchen.  You haven't eaten any cat food yet that I know of, but we're pretty good at watching you when you're playing on the floor.  On the other hand, it seems like every bit of cardboard or paper you come across still immediately goes into your mouth.  I'll be glad when you quit doing that.  You can crawl up our entire staircase (9 stairs) all by yourself.  Don't worry, we're always right behind you in case you slip.  I took you outside and let you play in our backyard and it was fun to watch you crawl away from me, then come back, then crawl a little farther, then come back...you were testing your limits.  I love watching you explore new things.

You've become quite the little Daddy's girl and often want him instead of me if you're hurt or upset.  I think Daddy loves every second of it.  You already have him completely wrapped around your finger and I love watching you two play together.  He's very protective of you, too.  If you're sleeping at night before we go to bed and you make the slightest noise he bolts up the stairs to check on you.  Speaking of sleeping, apparently naps and bedtime are for chumps because you barely take naps at daycare (though I can get you to sleep at home if I nurse you) and you want to play instead of go to bed a lot lately.  It's frustrating but I know it won't last forever (and it's not every night).

You still aren't really talking yet but it will come in time.  You like to chase the cats but they're still not terribly fond of you.   I kissed your baby doll and asked you to "give baby a kiss" and you did, with the classic open-mouth pose of an infant.  It was pretty adorable but you were stubborn and wouldn't show Daddy.

We tried to introduce you to goat's milk this weekend because your pediatrician said I could supplement with it (and use it after you turn 1 so I can stop pumping); goat's milk is easier to digest than cow's milk.  You didn't like it at all and projectile spit it out.  Daddy and I laughed pretty hard; unfortunately I think that encouraged you to spit it out every time now.  You did swallow one mouthful so I have a bit of hope you will drink it eventually.  Honestly, I don't blame you because I don't think I could drink it, but you have nothing except my milk to compare it to so I'm still hopeful you'll grow to like it.   Goat cheese can be an acquired taste; maybe it's the same with the milk.

Since you were sick this past week I took you to the doctor on Saturday; you weigh 22 lbs and 11 oz now!!  I'm not surprised, you're mostly wearing 18 months clothes already; but you're also really tall so it's not that you're a fat baby.  I'm sure when you start running you'll burn off some of that baby fat anyway.

Every moment with you is a joy.  I've recently been able to change to a part-time schedule at work, so now I get off earlier and have Fridays off.  I'm loving it already and it's only been 2 weeks.  It's so nice to have that extra day with you.

Well, you turn 1 in three weeks, so until then...I love you with all my heart.

Love,

Mom

Jackson's Birth Story

This is the birth story of the son of a very dear friend of mine from college.  Sarah was and always will be one of the most amazing people I have ever met, so it's no surprise that her son's birth story is just as amazing.   It had me in tears reading it; Sarah planned and prepared for a natural birth and ended up with a very necessary c-section after 64 hours of labor.  "Warrior Woman" indeed!

Jackson's Birth Story

by Sarah Harbin on Wednesday, September 14, 2011 at 11:44am

Tuesday, July 19, I was 39 weeks and 2 days pregnant.  Walt and I went to dinner on Folly at a friend's rented beach house. They were serving gumbo, and we joked about the spicy food starting  labor.  I hadn't told anyone, but Jackson's movements felt different.  Braxton Hicks had been going on for weeks, but now I was taking deep breaths during some of them.  And I felt different; more in tune with my body and less with the outside world.   I had a definite feeling that labor was imminent.

About midnight, I woke up during a contraction.  It felt like tough menstrual cramps, the kind that curl your toes and bring nausea with them.  It lasted about 30 seconds and faded away.  I went back to sleep, waking up several more times during the night.   I began timing with a phone app just to see how regular they were.  20 min apart, about 30 seconds long, with long breaks that probably meant I was sleeping through some.  I felt amazing, excited but not jittery.  I had prepared for this, and now I mostly just felt a lot of peace and a sense of being ready to do the work.

The only thing that worried me was how strong it was getting in my back.  Jackson had turned from OA position to OP (with his back to mine) at 37.5 weeks, and I was worried about back labor.  About 3 am, part of the mucous plug passed.  I wanted to share the excitement with Walt, but we had been instructed to let each other sleep as much as possible in the early stages of labor.  Around 4:30, he woke up when I came back in from the bathroom.  He asked me if I was ok, and I finally got to say it out loud:  "I'm starting to have some little contractions."

Wednesday morning, Walt stayed home for the first part of the morning to make sure things weren't going to progress quickly.  We rested and added last minute items to our bags. Nothing was changing, so he went into work.  I worked from home, did my prenatal yoga and went to the store.   It's amazing how early contractions just become a part of your day.  You have been expecting them for so long that their arrival is almost comforting, like a long-awaited house guest. 

Liz was scheduled to do some last minute maternity photos of me, so we went out to Alhambra Hall and the Sullivan's Island beachfront .  I'm so glad we got it in before the pregnancy I adored came to an end.   Liz got a beautiful shot of me mid-contraction.  And it was so amazing to be in the ocean, where the power and sound and smell consumed the discomfort and left only the wash of oxytocin and strength that rushed in on the tail end of each one.  I drove us home, asking Liz if her driver being in labor made her nervous. 

Things picked up Wednesday evening, but I still didn't feel we'd be rushing yet. The night was more restless, with contractions 10 minutes apart and 45 seconds long and harder to sleep through.  I got up to shower before Walt left in the morning. We had decided that he shouldn't use up a vacation day if nothing was going to happen, but I was sad he had to leave.  I had a prenatal appointment that morning, and we had called Hannah to drive me.  Yesterday's drive through the Old Village seemed like a long time ago.  I kissed Walt goodbye at the door in a bathrobe, and felt a contraction coming.  The bathrobe and towel on my head  felt incredibly heavy, and I told him to shut the door.  I dropped it all and stood there breathing through the contraction.  I heard Walt say quietly, "You're beautiful." 

At the birth center, Laurie (one of the midwives) asked how I was.  I couldn't resist messing with her a little.  "I'm in labor," I said.   Then I explained it was still pretty early.  She put me on the monitor and examined me.  We were 100% effaced but not dilated yet.  A little frustrated that 33 hours of early labor hadn't made more progress, I tried to remain optimistic.  Effacement is still progress, and people overlook that.  She told me to call when I reached the five minute mark or if my water broke.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, watching junk tv so I could mute it when I needed.  The rest of the mucous plug passed, beautiful like a tiny red octopus.  The back pain was stronger, and my sense of peace was slipping a little to frustration and nerves.  My instinct whispered to me that something might be off.  But I knew that we would handle what came along, and tried not to focus on it.

During one contraction, I knew I was having trouble staying on top of it because I thought, "Augh.  Forget this.  Just go get a c-section and get it over with."  I was just frustrated; giving natural birth in water was so important to me.  I had wondered for a long time if I would recognize the paper tigers that pounced during difficult moments. I saw it right away and began taking deep breaths and revisiting all of the amazing stories and encouragement I'd read.  Feeling better, I went back to breathing through it all.  I texted Christie, who sent back encouraging words. 

I was practicing a visualization exercise I had almost zero faith in where you imagine your body opening like a lotus, and I suddenly felt a distant pop.  Immediately after that came a small gush, like marsh water in your shoes.  I was lying on expensive new sheets, so I shot off the bed.  Yay!  This was a welcome change.  My excitement faded when I saw the fluid. It was murky and textured.  I thought it was supposed to be clear?  I made a handful of phone calls, first to Laurie.  "I think my water just broke, but I'm afraid if that's what it is, it isn't clear."  She reserved judgment but told me to come in.  Then to Walt, both Moms, my sister, and his sister Sara. Neither of the Moms nor Sara had seen their amniotic fluid before, so they could not reassure me that it wasn't what I feared.

Walt was on his way home from work and headed for the birth center.  His Mom picked me up and we headed that way in what had been one of my most dreaded scenarios...5:00 rush hour.  I am not patient in traffic, and I despise rush hour in Charleston.  To top it off, there was an accident at 526 and I-26.  We sat in traffic for a long time, with me pleading to escape it during contractions and apologizing while chowing down an apple and banana between them.

At the birth center, my family was excited but I was all business, waiting for my examination. Lesley took me back, but when she saw the fluid, she didn't need to examine me.  "Yep, that is meconium.  Get dressed," she said, "and we are going to talk about what is next." I wasn't sure, but I couldn't see how they could let me in their birthing tub with meconium flowing all around us.  In her office, she explained that there was an infection risk and that we would be transferring to Trident Hospital.  I couldn't help but cry.  We had protected our birth plan like a fragile egg through an in-utero diagnosis of hydronephrosis, positive test for the digestive bacteria  Group B strep, and severe edema that had my blood pressure creeping upward.  Lesley reminded me of all of this, and said, "We have never transferred a birth that didn't end with us saying there was a reason, that we are so glad this one was delivered in a hospital setting. Trust me, this will all make sense in the end."

We diverted the rest of the family to the hospital, and I arrived angry and frustrated.  "In ten minutes, I will be a happy laboring pregnant lady. But right now the birth I pictured is out the window and  I want to be a royal bitch."  No one argued with me.

My mom and I took over my L&D room, putting up a poster I'd made with facts, reminders, and encouragements from the books I read and our notes from birth class. Lesley had an electric oil diffuser, and I had brought lavender oil. We dimmed the lights and unpacked the picture of my mom and dad, the "God Bless This Child" plaque that hung over my crib, and the quilt Loretta had made.  I changed into clothes I could work in, and they ran my IV.  We met our L&D nurse, who was wonderful and believed in the value of natural birth.

They had to start me on a little Pitocin to get me dilated, but I asked them to keep it at the absolute minimum.  The fetal heart monitor had to stay on, which restricted my movement further.  I tried to set things up to make the best of it, sipped on protein drinks, and Walt and I got down to work. 

By this time, it was 10pm Thursday.  I had been at this for 46 hours, and though I was well practiced I was also tired.  Back labor makes it difficult to sit down, so the birthing ball and rocking chair weren't going to work.  I labored standing or leaned over the bed with Walt or my sister applying pressure to my back as long as I could, but eventually I was just too tired. I lay on my side with my Boppy pregnancy pillow, Julia at my back and Walt facing me to breathe through the contractions, both Moms in the background encouraging me.

I sent them out when I had to pee, which was often due to the IV, since getting to the bathroom with all the wires was frustrating and sitting down on the toilet was uncomfortable.  Eventually Walt just brought me a cup and slipped out until I was relieved.  At some point I became aware that I had given Walt's mom my phone and that she was still timing the contractions.  I was having trouble staying on top of the pain, and falling asleep between them and waking up with too little time to prepare myself before the next one.  Falling asleep between contractions is a blessing when you're relaxed, but I had worked myself into a stress ball and was only sleeping out of exhaustion.  And exhaustion is your biggest enemy in labor. 

Hilarity visited our tense little room when Walt, sitting by the bed on the birth ball, fell asleep.  He rolled backwards on the ball, and his mom stuck out her foot to catch him.  He switched to a chair and eventually, his hormones flowed in tune with mine and he would wake up instinctively seconds before I did, ready to coax me through another contraction.

I needed to get back in it, so at 2am Lesley and I decided to use sterile water ampules.  These are injected in the small of your back and serve to block the nerves that deliver back labor pain.  They feel like someone putting cigarettes out on you when they go in, but the relief is instantaneous and amazing.  Immediately after getting them, I could think clearly enough to realize we were doing a few things wrong.  Why did I have so many people in the room at once?  Who ever needed to time contractions like a monitored lab rat? How could I be ready for the next contraction if all I was doing was surviving the current one?  I asked our moms and Julia to go to the waiting room, and Walt and I started practicing labor breathing.  We took deep, heavy breaths in unison, and when the contractions came on I just breathed deeper and held on tighter.  I told myself that I had been through plenty by this point and that this one would pass into history just like the rest had.  For two hours, we enjoyed real, manageable labor. This was how it was supposed to be, and probably would have been if not for the complications. We worked hard, staring into each other's eyes, and I fell in love with him, with the process, and with my body all over again.  It was amazing, and it will be the thing that helps me choose natural labor again. I felt refreshed, high from the heavy oxygen intake, and at the same peace as while sitting in the ocean on Wednesday afternoon.

When the ampules wore off, I asked Lesley to do them again.  Same injection burning, same relief.  But this time I had a ton of oxygen in my bloodstream, and I metabolized them in under 45 minutes.  When the back pain returned, I knew I couldn't handle the injections again for such short relief.  It was 6am, and  my exhaustion wasn't a paper tiger.  After 54 hours, I needed an epidural.

Amazingly, I wasn't dilated enough yet for the epidural, so I made the only decision I am unsure about in retrospect.  I had narcotics put in my IV. They dulled the discomfort slightly, but they  made me loopy and emotional during contractions.  It wasn't really worth it.  However, I was in a difficult position and maybe I'd do the same if I had it to do all over again.

The epidural was night and day, and I understand now how for women who don't handle pain well, it is a lifesaver.  I learned when I destroyed my ankle in 2006 that I handle pain better than I handle medication. My hours of unmedicated labor showed me how strong I am and made me appreciate my body so much.  I would not want an epidural unless I had to have one again, but it served its purpose well when the time came.  You could see huge contractions on the monitor, but I felt nothing. It was sad to be taken out of the game, but I needed the rest.  Numb from my chest down, catheterized, Pitocin cranked up and unable to move, I slept most of the morning.  At 10am, I was 8 cm dilated.  Laurie came in to take over for Lesley.

By noon Friday, I had slept so much that I had not kept amping up the anesthesia as I should have, and it was wearing off. The only strong pain I noticed was severe stomach cramps. I hadn't had a real meal in 24 hours and a lot had happened.  Laurie said Jackson's heart rate had dropped slightly, and that though I was 9.5 cm, he hadn't dropped.  She could feel his head molded by my uterus pushing him down, but the rest of him hadn't followed.  I started to understand why we had meconium in our fluid. And since he was OP before my water broke, he was probably still in this position, making his trip down more difficult.  By all estimations, I probably needed to give birth by Cesarean. I tried pushing once, but was unable to move him. Laurie had another mom coming into the birth center in labor, but would send Lesley in to see us through.

I sent everyone but Walt out of the room and asked him to put on "Blackbird" from our birth playlist.   Tears rolled down my face and I thought back to that frustrated contraction, a million years ago, in bed at home.  Was all of this a waste of energy? Should I have thrown in the towel then?  "This is my worst nightmare," I said.

Walt held my hand and said, "No, your worst nightmare was being bullied into a medically unnecessary procedure.  You have done everything, you have made the best decisions you could have made.  If you do this, it will be because you need to."

Lesley explained that I could take two hours if I wanted to push, but if nothing happened, I would need the surgery to protect myself and Jackson.  This would mean I could not deliver at the birth center by VBAC later, I would have to be in the hospital.  I was more exhausted than I could have imagined possible, and my stomach pains were overwhelming.  I decided to just go with the C-section.  My mom and sister, exhausted as well, came in to comfort me before surgery.

My anxieties got the better of me briefly as we transitioned into the operating room, and for a little while there under the bright lights, I was a pretty bad patient.  But the anesthesia started to work, and when Walt came in his presence comforted me.  I recalled our birth class where Cynthia walked us through a C-section as we squirmed in our seats.  First would be the numbing, then the cut, then the pressure, then the sweep of the placenta. It all came back to me. Our birth playlist tinkled in the background, playing Rufus Wainwright's version of "Hallelujah," Chris Thomas' "Brian Petit," and Allison Kraus' "Down in the River to Pray."  The doctor and Lesley talked to each other, the nurses and the anesthesiologists talked to each other, machines beeped, and I shot nervous questions over the blue divider while Walt comforted me and we exchanged I love yous.

And suddenly, over all of that noise in the tiny room, a baby cried.

Walt and I stared at each other for a split second, and then both of us began to cry too. They lowered the divider and Lesley held him up, screaming and bloody, for me to see.  He was beautiful, long and loud, and looked exactly like his 32 week ultrasound. Jackson Walter Markiewicz, born at 3:39 on July 22, weighing 7 lb 14 oz, 21 inches long and with the craziest molding on his head that you'll ever see. They bathed him and Walt ran over to take pictures.  Then a nurse brought him over, swaddled and wearing a hat, and explained that  he had pneumothoraces, or pressure from air around his lungs, and he was headed for the NICU. He blinked up at me, impervious to the words flying over him.  I kissed his face over and over and wished I could hold him.  But they needed to take him and I was shivering like I was lying in an ice floe, so I just kept asking the nurse when I could feed him and when I could lie skin to skin with him. 

Lesley brought me apple juice for my stomach during recovery, and I discovered that I had taken my "God Bless This Child" plaque with me to the delivery room.  I had forgotten that.  They wheeled me down the hall, on my back under recurrent fluorescent lights like in the movies. I saw a man walking backwards out of a room, and then they wheeled me into that room.  The man followed us in, and he turned out to be Jackson's neonatologist, Dr. Shepherd.  He said Jackson was doing great, and that I could visit him in the NICU when I was able to get up.  The nurses said that I would need to stay in bed overnight.  I slowly realized that this meant I would not see Jackson until the next day.  The only thing I could do was accept this. If I let the disappointment creep in, I would unravel completely.

Our family visited Jackson, and every time Walt went over I asked him to take pictures.  I pumped little victorious golden drops of colostrum and tried not to have a breakdown.  The next morning, I pushed the nurses to help me get the catheter out, then to the bathroom to prove I could walk and pee on my own, then the IV out, then in a wheelchair on my way to see my son.

About noon, Walt wheeled me across the hall. I was stunned to realize the NICU had been so close all this time.  He helped me stand up at Jackson's cot in the NICU, where I could touch and kiss him.  The same nurse I questioned in the operating room explained that Dr. Shepherd would have to examine him before he could have my milk, but that it would probably be by bottle.  We helped her bathe him, and when the doctor came around he listened to his chest and said, "Would you like to nurse?"  I almost fell back into my wheelchair.  They set up a divider and while he was still only wearing a  diaper, he latched on before I even had a chance to wonder how to do it.  We lay skin to skin and nursed for the first time.

I had imagined a hospital stay being harsh and confrontational for our leftist hippie ways.  But we felt like guests rather than patients at Trident.  They backed us 100% on breastfeeding and baby bonding and did what they could to make us feel at home and comfortable.

The next day, while Walt was at Josh and Olena's wedding as a groomsman, they let Jackson room out with us and Mom and I surprised Walt when he came back in his tux with a baby in the room.  The day after that, we came home.  That was almost eight weeks ago, and it has been the longest and shortest eight weeks of my life. We watched our little baby get x-rayed for his hydronephrosis and accepted that in another era or culture, we would have both died from our labor complications. We stand in awe over him as he sleeps, unaware that our whole little world has revolved around him since the day I saw that second little pink line.  Our friends and family, particularly my mom and  Julia, have extended themselves greatly to assist us as we transitioned from two to three in all of the awkward, frustrating, amazing ways that you do.

 I have been overjoyed and felt love  to the point of sobbing, I have experienced a brief bit of PPD, and I have looked in the  mirror and not known who was staring back at me. It has been a joy to get to know that person all over again, as well as my partner, and most of all, our son.  As he lies here on my chest chirping at a pacifier that has slipped out of his mouth, I think about all the other moms in the world and history going through this too.  Before I went into labor, our pastor said to me, "A million other women have done what you are about to do.  But not you."  Like falling in love, giving birth is comfortably universal, but also singularly your own.

I realize now that my whole labor, that anyone's whole labor, is a beautiful and incredible journey.  Your experience is the sum of its parts, from start to finish, and that is the best reason that being present and being part of the process  is so sweet.  When I made the decisions I had to make, I hadn't given up or failed; I had been led slowly out into the deep end and made the best moves that kept my lungs full of air and delivered us both safely to the other side.  Every one of my 64 hours of labor, from the first contraction through our surgery, was part of becoming a Mom, a little lesson I needed to learn to get there.

Adventures in Cloth Diapering

We've been using cloth diapers for almost a year now, and it's been an experience all of its own.  When I first heard of cloth diapers, an older friend of mine told me horror stories of collecting them in stinky buckets until you had enough to wash and of swishing them in the toilet to rinse them out.  I was completely turned off by that idea, but decided to try them anyway when other friends raved about them (and showed me the awesome snaps, elastic, and cute colors! Look! They're easy, we promise!)  This post isn't meant to be an extensive review of cloth diapering, just some commentary on some things I've discovered over the past year.

One thing I've learned is that it's worth your time to experiment with different brands of diapers, something I didn't do in the beginning and wish I had.  Before Anne was born, I wanted it to be as simple as possible, so I went with Fuzzibunz diapers because you could order a "Starter Pack."  It came with 18 diapers that could be adjusted from newborn to 30 lbs, 2 pail liners, a lined and zippered bag to put dirty diapers in when away from home, scented oil to help with the smell, a jug of special laundry detergent, and cloth wipes (which I use as washcloths, I actually prefer disposable wipes).  I can tend to be sortof a brand whore sometimes and had no interest in trying other brands of cloth diapers.  I figured one was as good as another and shopping around was too much work (I'm not a good shopper, for anything. I find and I buy, I'm terrible at comparing prices/quality/etc. to find the best deal).   This was a mistake, as I have recently learned.  If you're going to do cloth diapers, you owe it to yourself to try several brands.  Fuzzibunz worked great in the beginning, but it turns out my daughter is a Pee Monster(tm) and can now soak 3 Fuzzibunz diapers in less than 2 hours, so they leak like crazy.  I recently bought some BumGenius Elementals and discovered they work amazingly well.  Anne can wear one for at least 2 hours with no leaks.  

Natural fibers (cotton, hemp) rather than microfleece and microfiber are WAY more absorbent; the extra washing time required in the beginning (6-7 washes before wearable) is totally worth it even if it seems daunting at first.  Hemp doublers (a thin, extra insert for pocket diapers) have also helped considerably.  I like my Fuzzibunz diapers for the most part, especially the fact that they have adjustable elastic and snaps so I don't have to keep buying bigger sizes.  But there are definitely other brands that work as well or better and having a variety is a good thing.  (much thanks to my cloth diapering mama friends who helped me with this issue!)

Another thing I've learned is that  the reality of washing them is not that far off from the original presentation that I found so unappealing. Now, don't get me wrong, I like using cloth diapers and I will do it again if there's a baby #2 in the future.  But cleaning them is definitely a down side.  Newborn diapers are easy.  Their poo is liquid so you just toss them in the diaper pail (with nice, washable liner complete with tab for scented oil) and then toss them in the washer.  (for those of you who are still squeamish about the idea of poo being in your washer, let me ask you this...if you wash a muddy shirt does the mud stay in your washer for the next load? no? then why do you think poo is any different? it washes away like any other kind of dirt).  But then baby starts solid food and it gets much more interesting.  The hard solid kind is easy to pull off and put in the toilet.  The messy squishy kind, not so much, and I have wanted to murder my other cloth diapering friends for talking me into this pretty much every time I have to clean one of those off.  Some people use sprayers but I envisioned myself making a huge mess with one of those as I lack coordination on even my good days, so I use latex gloves and toilet paper to handle that.  Fortunately these messy diapers gradually dwindle to one on occasion so it's not the end of the world, but it does require some perseverance. And a lot of great air freshener for the bathroom.  That being said, there are far less poopy diapers than pee diapers and the pee diapers are gloriously easy to deal with, so I still think it's worth it to use cloth over disposables.  

Pros:

* Cost effective over time (pay for themselves in about 4-5 months)
* Greener / less trash

* No diaper rashes

* Cute
* Can change baby anywhere because you don't have to hunt down a trashcan if you're out because you pack the dirty ones with you

* Leak-proof if you have the right kind for your child

* No worry about crazy chemical burns / disposable diaper recalls

Cons:

* Daily/almost daily laundry depending on how many you own

* Cleaning the poop off is disgusting no matter how you do it

* Upfront cost is expensive

* Need special detergent / washing instructions
* Can have leaking issues if they get build-up or you're using the wrong kind for your child

* Bulky, may need to size up baby's clothes

If you're considering cloth diapering, just know you're getting yourself into a lot of extra work.  It's work that's worth it, though :-)