Heidi's birth

This is the story of Heidi's birth. I am sharing it because I have greatly benefited from many of my friends' stories of their childrens' births and because it was an event that shaped and changed me as a person and strengthened my faith in and relationship with God. The blessings that I experienced in the days leading up to Heidi's Birth Day are evidence that God is keeping our feet. The birth of a child is a very special event.

Being pregnant for two weeks past Heidi's due date was stressful and emotional for me. I was hoping for a natural birth at a birth center, and as the days passed by I was afraid that I would end up in the hospital for another induction. When I was pregnant with Kevin I was induced at 41 weeks because, among other things, the amniotic fluid was dangerously low, which was discovered in an ultrasound. It was a two-day process (but only 16 hours of labor) and it was very emotionally draining to be in the hospital waiting that long. So I was afraid that this would happen again with Heidi. At 41 weeks I went in for the ultrasound. I had a feeling of peace that morning and was trying to leave it up to my Heavenly Father to make sure that Heidi came when the time was right. My amniotic fluid index was 16 (8-20 is normal), and Heidi looked very healthy, so I was able to continue waiting to go into labor. It was a tender mercy from the Lord and I was very grateful that our baby was still healthy and safe.

After that, my worry was that I wouldn't go into labor before 42 weeks, which is when the birth center strongly recommends being induced at the hospital. I had never gone into labor on my own, so it was hard for me to envision what it would be like. As the days went by I became more and more stressed because of that worry. I also knew that many of my loved ones were worried about me and questioning my judgment and the judgment of my midwives in letting this pregnancy continue so long. That bothered me because I knew that the research supports watchful waiting and because my midwives had given me such excellent care throughout my pregnancy that I hated to think that my loved ones didn't trust them.

During the two weeks after the due date, my friend, my cousin, and a woman who Ryan works with all had their babies. Their babies were all due over a week after mine. It made me sort of laugh-cry when I found out about each one.

My midwives worked very closely with me to continue checking Heidi's well-being and to help labor start on its own. 11 days after the due date I had a non-stress test, which Heidi passed in less than ten minutes, and one of the midwives, Sarah, checked me and said I was 3-4 centimeters dilated. I was thrilled that my body had made all that progress without any intervention. I asked Sarah to sweep my membranes, and she also told me to bind a sheet tightly around my waist right under my belly to help bring the baby's head back and down, especially when I was having contractions (the pressure and support from the sheet felt really good). I had been having contractions in the evenings that seemed more intense than Braxton-Hicks, but they always petered out. That evening while I was watching a movie with Ryan, I had one very strong and painful contraction. It was very exciting and exhilarating even though it hurt. It did leave me feeling a little scared as realization sunk in that labor would hurt like this and would last for several hours. The contractions petered out as usual. There was a spectacular lightning storm that night, with continuous lightning filling the sky for quite a long time. Ryan and I enjoyed watching it together, and I thought with gratitude and awe about the wonderful creations God has made, especially the beautiful child who would soon be with us.

In those last few days I became a hermit and couldn't concentrate on anything except my basic needs. I would sit and try to read a book and get through less than a page in an hour. I went back for another membrane sweep 12 days after the due date, and I was still dilated about the same. That evening after dinner I was sitting on the couch with the sheet around my belly and just thinking, when some contractions started. For some reason I started focusing on them and using visualization to encourage them to be more effective. With the beginning of each contraction I would think, "Okay, Baby, let's make this a really good one," and I would visualize her head descending deep into my pelvis. This went on for quite a while. I thought about how in my friend's story of the birth of her son she had said she "enjoyed one more contraction." Now I understood what she meant. These contractions were slightly painful, but I was feeling very close to Heidi and feeling excited that soon she would be here. I know this sounds very hippie, and normally I would probably roll my eyes at this kind of thing, but I do think it made these contractions more effective. The contractions petered out again and I went to bed.

I went in for another membrane sweep the next morning, 13 days after the due date. The midwives said they had noticed that doing one every day for three days often seems to get women in labor. The midwife, Kate, said that I was a solid 4 centimeters and that her head had descended a lot since yesterday. I thought about what had happened the evening before and was pleased that the baby and I had made so much progress together. Kate asked me about what my plans were to get labor started. I had an ultrasound scheduled for Friday, 15 days after the due date, and she said if the baby hadn't come by Saturday maybe I could try castor oil. She also made all sorts of other suggestions, including red raspberry leaf tea, acupunture, acupressure, tinctures, enema, and labor massage. I mentioned that I was thinking of calling my chiropractor, who I had been seeing for the past couple of months for pubic symphysis dysfunction and pain in my tailbone. Kate said that was a great idea and that maybe getting my pelvis slightly realigned would help. I didn't feel comfortable with trying a zillion different things to get labor started because even though they might be more mild than pitocin, I still felt that there are risks to even those interventions and I didn't want to pull out all the stops. I did call my chiropractor when I got home and got an appointment for that afternoon.

I had mild and sporadic contractions from the time I got home, and by the time I needed to leave for my chiropractor appointment I knew that I probably should ask Ryan to drive. He started timing my contractions about the time we left, and they were very predictably 10 minutes and 15 seconds apart. My chiropractor did the adjustment and also pressed a couple of acupressure spots. When I went to check out of her office, I suddenly realized I was ravenous. We stopped to eat at Chick Fil A on the way home (and we rarely go out to eat). We saw some friends, the Austins, who used to be in our ward, and it was great to talk to them. Sister Austin mentioned to me that her son had been born three weeks late, so she could relate to what I was feeling then.

By this point I knew that this was probably the real thing. I felt very peaceful. I enjoyed spending the evening with Ryan and Kevin, chatting and reading books to Kevin between contractions, which were now strong enough that I couldn't be distracted through them. About the time when Kevin needed to go to bed, I realized that they seemed to be much closer together now, so we timed a few. They were consistently 3 minutes apart and 40 seconds long, and I realized I really needed to call the birth center and let them know what was going on. Meanwhile, Ryan was running around getting Kevin ready for bed. I talked to Kate, the midwife I had seen that morning, and she suggested getting in the shower to see how that would affect the contractions. I threw a couple of things into my suitcase that I had just realized I might need, and then I got in the shower. The contractions suddenly got really intense and painful and were coming even closer together, and I knew without a doubt that I had to get to the birth center soon, so I called Kate and said I wanted to come. Ryan went to get our neighbor, Dawn, who we had asked to watch Kevin, and got together some food and other last-minute things. I was kneeling on the floor and moaning to get through the contractions. It seemed like it took forever before we were finally ready to leave.

I was apprehensive about the drive to the birth center. I sat on the front seat on top of a garbage bag, clutching a pillow against my belly. Where the road was smooth the car's movement was actually rather soothing, but the bumps were awful. Ryan and I were both feeling very excited.

The birth center was peaceful and quiet. I was the only person in labor there. Kate put me in the green room. The contractions were coming on top of each other and were very intense, so I felt sure that I had made good progress. Much to my disappointment, I was still only 4-5 centimeters dilated and her head had only descended a little bit more. Kate watched my belly during the contractions and said that it seemed like the baby's head was somewhat posterior and my uterus was contracting in a wave to try to turn her around. I was so discouraged! I had no idea how I would make it through several hours more of this. The pain was the most intense in a band at the bottom of my belly, and even between contractions I felt like I was barely getting relief because it would continue to hurt there. It seemed like my uterus would contract at the slightest stimulation.

Kate suggested that I could climb in the shower and sit on the birth ball and do pelvic rocks, which she thought would help slow down the contractions, but instinctively I knew that would only make it worse for me. I was lying on my side on the bed hugging my pillow, which is how I normally sleep, and I knew that this was where I needed to be for a while. I had read that side-lying can be helpful for getting a posterior baby to turn, and Kate agreed and said that might also be a good way to get some rest, so that's what I went with. They propped me up with pillows and gave me a heated rice sock. The birth center has double beds in every room, so Ryan laid down beside me and got some rest too. It was great to not be all by myself in a hospital bed!

One of the amazing differences between this labor and my labor with Kevin was how much control I had. What I mean by that is that with the pitocin, labor was happening to me, but this time I felt like I was making it happen. I had always heard that pitocin contractions are worse than natural contractions, but I had been trying not to get my hopes up in case it was different for me. I wouldn't say that natural labor contractions were easier or less painful than pitocin contractions, but they did feel completely different. It was great to not be connected to an IV pole and to have intermittent monitoring. Having the monitor belts on would have been excruciating. During the contractions I hummed deeply and focused on visualizing the baby's head turning and descending. After each contraction I put my hand or the rice sock on my lower belly where it wasn't relaxing and told it to relax and rest, which worked pretty well. In between I focused on relaxing and spreading out the contractions so I could get a break, and I think I succeeded in making that happen. Ryan handed me gummy worms and juice. I was sort of surprised because last time I had really relied on Ryan throughout the entire labor, but this time I didn't even want to be touched during contractions. Just his presence was really reassuring, though. I really went into laborland and lost track of time.

Eventually I realized that I was feeling the contractions more in my back and down into my bottom, instead of just in the front, which my nurse said was good, so I focused on making the contractions feel like that every time. Kate came in to check me. I thought if I could just hear that I was at a six and she wasn't posterior, I would be happy. To my delight, I was between eight and nine and her head was much lower! I knew that this would probably get harder, but at least now I knew we were getting close to the end. Kate and the nurse filled up the big tub and I gladly climbed in. Ryan poured water over my belly with each contraction, which felt nice. Another thing that surprised me was that all the positions I had thought would be helpful were the most uncomfortable ones this time. I just wanted to float on my back in the tub, which I had expected wouldn't be very comfortable.. I continued the same humming and visualization that I had been using on my side in the bed.

After a while I was feeling grunty during the middle of some contractions, and the urge to push increased. I wasn't too surprised when Kate said I was almost at a ten but there was a lip of cervix left that was getting swollen, so I should try not to push for a while. The same thing had happened with Kevin. It was awful. Resisting that urge was pretty much futile. I got on my knees and rested my arms and face on the side of the tub and chanted "Down." Kate told me to blow like I was blowing out candles. Once when I stood up to use the bathroom, I saw the leaves in a picture on the wall, so I started blowing leaves instead. Kate had said that she would let me labor down so my water would break on its own, which is what I had wanted, but when she checked me again and found that the lip of cervix was gone, I said I was feeling a lot of pressure and I felt like it would help if she broke my water, so I got on the bed and she did that.

I tried pushing on my side for a while, but I didn't really like it. I felt like I needed to get on my hands and knees. Once I was in that position things progressed really quickly. Nobody told me how to push like they had in the hospital, and instinctively I used short pushes at the beginning and end of contractions and longer pushes in the middle. The doctors doing the ultrasound the week before had estimated that she was already large (like nine pounds), so I briefly wondered if I was going to have a ten-pound baby who wouldn't fit, but then a contraction came and I thought, "That's absurd! I can tell I'm pushing her out, so what does it matter how big she is?" I reached down several times to feel her head, and at one point I turned to Ryan and said, "We're really close, aren't we?" He smiled and nodded. The last few contractions really burned, and I felt it with my hand when her head came through. I heard Kate say that she thought there was a cord around her neck, but it turned out it was her arm--she had come out with her arm around her neck and her hand up by her face. When the rest of her body slid out, I picked her up from the sheets and held her against my chest. I was shaking and nearly sobbing with the joy and love that I felt. I was so thrilled that Heidi was finally here and that her earth life had begun. Kate and the nurse stood back and let us enjoy the baby for several minutes. There was no rush to cut the cord, no yanking to get the placenta out, no hurry to get things stitched up. That was one of the reasons I had wanted to have the baby at the birth center--because I knew they would leave the first few minutes of her life for bonding instead of medicalizing it. After the cord stopped pulsing Ryan cut it, and soon I pushed out the placenta and Kate stitched me up. I was still holding Heidi, and she was rooting around and sticking her tongue out like crazy, so I nursed her for the first time.

Ryan held her for a while, and eventually the nurse asked if we wanted to know how much she weighed. Kate commented that she had been really surprised to see how big Heidi was when she came out because I didn't look like I was carrying a baby that big. I wasn't too surprised that she was 8 lb. 8 oz. because that sounded about right to me.

Later on Kate did the official newborn exam in front of us on the bed. She asked if we wanted to do anything with the placenta, and I said I didn't want it but I did want to see it. So she showed us the placenta and amniotic sac and where everything had been. It was a very healthy placenta and didn't have any signs of aging. Because of that and also because Heidi had been completely covered in vernix (which you don't typically see in overdue babies), Kate said the due date must not have been accurate, because Heidi did not look like a baby that was two weeks late. That made me feel very relieved because I wasn't just overcooking my baby for those two weeks--she was actually waiting to come until she was ready.

We ended up staying a bit longer than most moms do because Heidi's breathing was slightly fast (70 breaths per minute when 60 is normal) and Leigh Ann, the midwife who took over for Kate, wanted to make sure there wasn't a problem. Her breathing slowed down after a while. Poor Heidi swallowed a lot of amniotic fluid when she came out because she came so fast, so we were also trying to help her throw it up because it was giving her a tummy ache. Eventually we decided it would be a good idea to suction her, and they got out 20 mL. After that she was happier and nursed a lot better. I appreciated that this decision was left up to us. It wasn't "We're going to suction her," it was "I think it might help if we suctioned her. Do you want me to do that?" The attitude was different at the hospital and I don't think they would have given us the opportunity to make that decision as her parents. The nurses and midwives really cared about Heidi's well-being and obviously enjoyed helping us take care of her. The nurse walked right out to the car with us when we left, and then we were on our way home with happy hearts.

More details to come about her first few days--I think this post is already getting too long.

Heidi's name

We had four different girl's names that were possibilities, but we wanted to see her before deciding. Initially I got the idea of the name Heidi as we were looking through Swedish names. I liked the name because of the book (Heidi) and it kind of stuck out to me. The website where we saw it said that Heidi is short for Adelheid. My great-grandmother's name is Adelaide, so that adds some additional meaning to the name.

After she was born and we were all settled down, I was looking at her face trying to figure out which one of our names was her. I tested each one, and the other ones just weren't right, but when I thought about Heidi and looked at her I knew that was the one. I turned to Ryan apprehensively and said, "I think she's a Heidi." And Ryan nodded his head because he knew that was the right name too. I was glad that both of us had independently felt that Heidi was the right name.

Ryan told her to stick out her tongue twice if she wanted to be Heidi. She stuck her tongue out five times. I guess she approves!

Welcoming our beautiful baby girl

Here are some pictures of our sweet new baby girl, Heidi Ann. She was born at 2:53 am on Thursday morning after about 7 hours of active labor. Yes, 14 days after the due date. She weighed 8 lb. 8 oz. and was 20.5 inches long.

And if you want to know what put me into labor, you can attribute it to membrane sweeps, a visit to the chiropractor, or getting Chick Fil-A on the way home. The birth center was a great place to have a baby and recover. I'm feeling so great. I'm not nearly as sore as I was after Kevin was born, and I'm so thrilled to have our baby here at last.

library

Today we took a little trip to the library. Kevin recognizes the library and starts saying, "Booh? Booh?" before we've even gotten inside to see the books. We have a lot of children's books already, but lately Kevin has been asking for books all the time, and I've been getting tired of reading the same books over and over again, so we had him choose a few books. He was so cute when we went to check out the books and he handed them to the librarian. Ryan and I both checked out a few books as well. I came home with that exciting feeling that I used to get in the summer growing up when we had just come home with several stacks of books apiece and the prospect of an entire week of reading. The only difference is that I don't remember it being this hot in Idaho. We always used to go play at the park across the street after going to the library, and I don't remember feeling so hot most times. Between some books my friend loaned me and the books I checked out today I should be all set for whatever mood I happen to be in at a given time. I admit I got pretty ambitious and I probably won't finish all of them, but I've always sort of liked that feeling of having a big pile of books to read.

It won't be like this for long.

We heard this song on the radio today, and it seemed kind of appropriate, considering the state of things. I mean, at the longest it should be less than a week before we have a baby, but at the same time it feels like it's never going to be over. I figure she must be finishing up an extra credit project in a graduate level course on Life On Earth, and then she'll be ready. I've felt all along that she's really excited to begin her mortal life, but I wonder if she's nervous too.

Arrow of Light, safety fair, and other stuff

This was Ryan's third year of being a den leader in cub scouts. He's been working with the same group of boys since he first got that calling (back when I was also a den leader), and this year all of them received their Arrow of Light awards. Ryan has been working hard with them and was very excited that they all were able to get their Arrow of Light.

Last week the town had a safety fair. I heard about it because I called the fire department about getting our car seats' installation inspected, and they said there would be car seat inspections at this safety fair. Most of the activities looked too old for Kevin, but I thought he might enjoy a couple of things, so we went for a little while. There was a puppet show with songs about how to be safe in fires, which Kevin watched a little bit, and there were several booths and a bounce house. Kevin mostly wanted to play with the big balloons that were all around  the safety fair.

Here was one of the demonstrations they had. They were trying to show how hot a car can get in the summer and why you shouldn't leave your kids out in the car. So they made smores on the dashboard of the car and then served them to people who stopped to look. It worked quite well--the marshmallows were nice and melted. They said the temperature in the car was 150 degrees.

We did get some free bubbles out of all this, and Kevin begs for bubbles all the time. The only trouble is that what he really wants is to hold the bottle and blow the bubbles himself. He has no interest in me blowing bubbles for him. He's pretty good at it and has even mastered the art of catching bubbles on the wand, but he loses track and spills the bubbles, which drives me nuts because it's messy and a waste. I hear they've made these bubble bottles that can be turned completely upside down without spilling, so we may have to invest in one of those.

It turns out they were just talking about car seat safety, not actually doing inspections, so later that day we went to the fire station to have them look at our car seats. I was so thrilled with how tight they got the car seats! I've never been able to get them as tight as I want them to be even though I follow the instructions in the manual, but the firefighters showed me some tricks for getting them tighter.

Ryan likes to do the Sudoku in the Daily Tar Heel, and Kevin likes to help.

And here is a video of Kevin "helping" with the laundry.

Occoneechee Mountain State Natural Area

At the end of May, our ward had planned a party at the Occoneechee Mountain State Natural Area, but the day before there was some concern about the weather, so it got cancelled. Pretty unfortunate, considering that it ended up being a beautiful day, and not even very hot--but after all the tornadoes and other natural disasters that have been happening lately, I think we're all a little more cautious.

Well, I was seriously considering spending the day in bed feeling sorry for myself, so Ryan dragged me out of bed and we went to the mountain as a family and walked on some of the trails.

Believe it or not, they claim to have mountains here. Like the Occoneechee Mountain, the highest point in the county at an awe-inspiring 867 feet. But it is a very nice park and the trail was quite pleasant. And yes, I had a really nice time, and I informed Ryan that sometimes I hate it when he's right.

As is usually the case, Ryan gets credit for all the pictures, except the mushroom, which is my work of art.

Kevin is so cute with his new baseball cap. He loves wearing it.
And this is what I looked like at about 38 weeks pregnant.

Wow, the horizon! It does exist out here!

Below are some pictures of an old quarry.

The horizon again!

nice family home evening

On Monday we had a really nice family home evening. I used some of the pictures from the gospel art book to tell the story of when Christ came to the Americas. Kevin was very quiet and still and paid attention to the pictures. He was especially interested in the picture of Christ with the children surrounded by angels. I looked at his face and knew that he could feel the Spirit telling him this was true. It was a very special moment for Ryan and me. Kevin doesn't generally show much interest in family home evening, scripture study, prayer, and such, but he does recognize that we do it consistently, and every once in a while he really pays attention and gets a lot out of it. Those times make it all worthwhile.

I bought "fat free half and half" the other day. I'm not kidding, even though it sounds like an oxymoron. I looked it up and apparently they add other stuff to it to make it thicker even though it's actually skim milk. The only reason I bought it was because I had a coupon that made it very cheap.

It's hot. It doesn't seem fair. It seems like just about everywhere you have long winters, long summers, and then at the most two weeks of spring and two weeks of fall. And I don't even get to enjoy those weeks because they happen during school. I love being outside, but I hate coming home so sweaty and smelly that I can barely move.

I'm pretty sure I've become an oven. A couple of days ago I was feeling quite hot, and I asked Ryan if he thought it was hot and he said, "I'm freezing." He's added an extra blanket to his side of the bed (besides the extra one folded in half that was already there--he has that one all the time).

I had to laugh when I was reading through Baby Girl's car seat manual and it talked about using the cup holders. The instructions say to only use paper or styrofoam cups, because hard cups can cause injuries if they go flying and hit someone in a crash. Now, I never give Kevin food or drinks in the car because I'm pretty sure he can go without food for the fifteen minutes it takes to get to the grocery store, so it doesn't really matter to me. But I don't think there are many parents who would let their child have a paper or styrofoam cup in the car--that's just asking for a huge mess. So if you can't use a sippy cup because it's too hard and could hit someone, and you can't use paper or styrofoam because they're messy, why bother having cupholders on a car seat? (Apparently Kevin agreed because he found the removable cupholder and threw it behind the piano--I haven't bothered to fish it out.)

I think Breyer's is getting the right idea with their Mint Fudge Brownie ice cream, although the brownie pieces could use some work. But it's better than most brands of mint ice cream that have bits of black plastic that are supposed to be chocolate chips.

A couple of days ago at my appointment with a midwife, she was feeling for the position of the baby and said, "Here's her face." When I expressed my surprise that she could tell it was her face, she said, "Yep, I accidentally bonked her nose." Pretty cool.

"Drink responsibly."

Boy, I'm off to a great start as a mother. Yesterday at lunch Kevin asked me to take the lid off of his sippy cup of milk so he could drink out of an open cup. So I said to him, "That's fine, but you need to promise me you'll drink responsibly." And then it occurred to me what I had just said. Kevin's not even two years old, and I'm already telling him to drink responsibly!

Oh, and this is what he thinks it means to drink responsibly:

Kevin also had his first ice cream sandwich a couple of days ago. I know, he's deprived, but I just don't ever buy them. They're expensive. We got a whole box that was leftover from the Arrow of Light ceremony on Wednesday (more on that later). I'm sure you're very disappointed that he's not very messy. I was rather surprised, actually.

In other news, he recently started pointing at pictures of sheep and saying, "Baa." Until now he has been calling them dogs and saying "Uh! Uh!" Yesterday he was also copying me as I was reading Big Red Barn, when I said "Moooo," and "Meow," and "Bok, bok, bok." That was a first--he's not normally one to repeat words back to us like that.

Baby Girl's in utero video debut

Yes, this is my belly, with a living baby girl inside. Pretty miraculous, huh? Forget going into labor, I think this child might just rip her way right through. (Sorry if the video makes you squeamish.)

childhood amnesia

Yesterday I read an article talking about infantile/childhood amnesia, which got me thinking about what my earliest memories are. Here's one:

My mom used to have a couple of wooden rods about one inch in diameter as well as a metal pipe, which were used for making rhythms with little kids. I used to like to play with them. One day I was sitting on the floor playing with this set, when my sister came into the room. And here's where memories disagree with each other. My parents say I hit her with the metal pipe, so the hospital records say, "Sister hit." I, on the other hand, distinctly remember her hitting her head on my dad's stereo cabinet (through no fault of mine). I have no recollection of hitting her. I don't remember my parents being there to witness it, so my opinion is that my memory is right and they just concluded that I hit her when they came in to find out what happened. We were pretty little, so maybe I wasn't old enough to communicate what happened. After that I remember EMTs coming to our house and giving my sister oxygen (I thought she was going to die), and then she got some stitches on her eyebrow where she got cut.

Several years later, the chickenpox visited our family. My sister got the worst case, including a pretty nasty bump on her eyebrow. A few years after that, we were having lunch as a family, and my sister mentioned the small white scar on her eyebrow and how it had come from when she had the chickenpox. I had concluded the scar was from the chickenpox as well. Then my parents clarified that the scar was from when she hit her head on the stereo or I hit her with the metal pipe, whichever story you want to believe. I was really confused by their account because that wasn't what I remembered.