Wednesday was my first day back in school. I am only taking two classes this semester, and one is online, but even that seems like a ton of work when I have a month-old baby who likes to be held all the time. I have often considered dropping out or at least waiting a year, but every time I think about it I immediately have a strong feeling that I have to keep plowing through. Graduating from college didn't seem like much of a challenge when I was a freshman at BYU, but now that I have a baby to take care of and I still have about 70 credits to finish, I think when I graduate I will consider it a great accomplishment. Maybe I will appreciate my college education a little more. RT has been so supportive and is taking care of K while I am in class.
It was a really hot day. I rode the campus shuttle to a bus stop by the hospitals, where I would catch another bus that would take me halfway to Raleigh, where I would then catch another bus that would take me to NCSU. It's a long process, but it's worth it to save the gas money (NCSU students ride for free), and I can also study during my commute, which I couldn't do if I was driving. Fortunately I can ride the express bus to get back home, which is much nicer.
After arriving at NCSU, I had to do a couple of things before going to class, so I took care of those things and then went to my class. It took a little longer than I expected, and then I couldn't figure out where my class was because the building had a somewhat-odd numbering system, so I walked into my class late. I was dripping in sweat (should I say perspiration instead?) and breathing hard because I was so hot, and my hair was frizzy because of the humidity. I was pretty embarrassed because I was late and I knew I looked like a mess. I looked around, and it seemed like 3/4 of the class was composed of beautiful girls with perfect hair. I had to wonder if I'm the only person who perspires in this state. RT says it's because I grew up in Idaho, and Idaho is never humid and doesn't get this hot as often. It will probably affect my ability to adjust to climates for the rest of my life.
The teacher discussed a couplet from a poem and also the prologue to the Canterbury Tales. He had some interesting insights. I thought about my AP English class and decided I was gypped (by the way, I just barely found out that that word isn't spelled "jipped"--I had no idea!). Not that this was a surprise--I was already pretty sure that we hadn't been taught very much about literature in that class. For one thing, we only spent one day talking about poetry--I've always wished that I knew more about how to read and appreciate poetry. I have a feeling that there aren't very many good English teachers anymore. I hope I will learn a lot from this teacher and get a better idea of what I can do to continue learning how to appreciate literature better. I guess that is probably an ability that comes with practice and careful thought.
This wasn't the first time I had been away from K, but I was away for quite a while, and I really missed him. As much as I like school, I kept wishing I was at home with him. Even though it seems like all I do with him right now is feed and hold him and change his diaper, being a mom is so much more meaningful than what I do in school. I'm trying to remember how much we have been told recently by leaders of the church that it is important for women to get an education. I know that it will help me develop skills that will help me be a better parent and also that it's a very good idea to be prepared in case I ever need to go to work.
K seems to be sleeping a little better at night. In the beginning it was very hard to get him to sleep in the bassinet because he would startle awake. Sometimes he slept okay if we put him on his side (held in place by some lovely wedges), but it was still hard. We finally started putting him in an infant seat or the swing, and he seemed to sleep better there, although he still would often cry until we held him. But the last few days he has slept exclusively in the bassinet at night and has done just fine, and he has generally only awakened to eat every three hours. He is even learning to soothe himself back to sleep, which he never would do before--if he started to cry he would not stop unless we took care of him. It must be hard to get used to having a body--I'm glad that he's starting to get the hang of some things.
He's also grown a lot in the last week and a half. One day I tried on some of his three-month size clothes, and they were still way too big, and it seemed like it was only a few days later when they fit him perfectly. At his doctor appointment on Tuesday he weighed 11 lbs and was 22 inches long--he went from being in the 50th percentile to the 75th percentile in two weeks. I'm amazed at how big he has gotten. It's also been amazing to see how much he has changed and watch him develop a personality. His neck and legs are very strong, and he's starting to smile a little bit at us and often focuses his gaze on our faces or other objects.
We can't figure out what color K's eyes are. I don't think there's a color that describes it. They're kind of purplish-greenish-greyish-blackish-brownish-blueish, and very, very dark.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
one month old
Hi. Tomorrow I will be one month old. I like to eat, sleep, and kick. That's about it. My parents think I'm exceptionally cute and beautiful. I don't have much interest in the mirror, so I wouldn't know.
Here are some videos of me.
I have sharp fingernails and I keep scratching my face, so they put socks on my hands. I think the socks are interesting.
I used to have a lot of hair on top of my head, but it fell out. Mom was sad. Dad and I didn't care too much. I'm still cute.
Here are some videos of me.
I have sharp fingernails and I keep scratching my face, so they put socks on my hands. I think the socks are interesting.
I used to have a lot of hair on top of my head, but it fell out. Mom was sad. Dad and I didn't care too much. I'm still cute.
Friday, August 14, 2009
going back in time
I don't know why I never posted this, but I guess I still should. I wrote this when K was four weeks old.
My baby is four weeks old. I can't believe how fast the time has gone. It's been really hard. I've been pretty grumpy and emotional at times. But I have also been incredibly happy. Often in the past few years I have felt like something was missing from my life, and I think motherhood is filling in that gap. I hope I'm treasuring this time as much as I should. K is a very special person. I don't think I realized you can get to know a baby as well as I know him--and I still know so little about him.
Last Sunday I went back to church for the first time. I've been feeling almost back to normal for a couple of weeks, and I couldn't stay away from church any longer. I needed to go back. As RT parked the car I felt close to tears because I was so happy to be at church and to see all the people in my ward again. I've been in some really nice wards in the past--the ward I grew up in was nice, and the two singles wards I was in at BYU were both really fun. But I didn't love those wards in the way I love the one I'm in now. Often when we stand up and sing the rest hymn together I look around and can't help crying because I just love the people in my ward so much. It was so nice to be surrounded by those wonderful, loving friends again. I was also so grateful for the spirit I felt during the meetings (and I actually didn't miss much since K only got hungry during sacrament meeting, which I could still hear in the mother's room!). The teachers do such a nice job--I think the main reason is because they mostly allow the class to make comments. I love church!
The fire alarm in our building went off at about midnight last night. As soon as I heard it (it is really loud and just the right pitch to make it painful to hear it), I expected K to wake up and cry, but he didn't even notice. The only reason he woke up was because I picked him up, and he drifted off to sleep again in a few seconds. I promise he passed his hearing test. I'm sure other people with children who are actually on a schedule didn't appreciate the alarm very much. We did have a good time talking to some friends who live in the building and meeting some people who are new in our ward.
I love that food tastes normal to me again. Oatmeal, cold cereal, and bread often made me sick throughout my pregnancy, but now they taste good again. It was an immediate change--amazing.
I also love that I can move around normally again. I can bend over to pick things up. I can sit down on the floor like a human instead of an elephant. I can roll over in bed. Best of all, I can hug RT without feeling like he's still a foot away.
My baby is four weeks old. I can't believe how fast the time has gone. It's been really hard. I've been pretty grumpy and emotional at times. But I have also been incredibly happy. Often in the past few years I have felt like something was missing from my life, and I think motherhood is filling in that gap. I hope I'm treasuring this time as much as I should. K is a very special person. I don't think I realized you can get to know a baby as well as I know him--and I still know so little about him.
Last Sunday I went back to church for the first time. I've been feeling almost back to normal for a couple of weeks, and I couldn't stay away from church any longer. I needed to go back. As RT parked the car I felt close to tears because I was so happy to be at church and to see all the people in my ward again. I've been in some really nice wards in the past--the ward I grew up in was nice, and the two singles wards I was in at BYU were both really fun. But I didn't love those wards in the way I love the one I'm in now. Often when we stand up and sing the rest hymn together I look around and can't help crying because I just love the people in my ward so much. It was so nice to be surrounded by those wonderful, loving friends again. I was also so grateful for the spirit I felt during the meetings (and I actually didn't miss much since K only got hungry during sacrament meeting, which I could still hear in the mother's room!). The teachers do such a nice job--I think the main reason is because they mostly allow the class to make comments. I love church!
The fire alarm in our building went off at about midnight last night. As soon as I heard it (it is really loud and just the right pitch to make it painful to hear it), I expected K to wake up and cry, but he didn't even notice. The only reason he woke up was because I picked him up, and he drifted off to sleep again in a few seconds. I promise he passed his hearing test. I'm sure other people with children who are actually on a schedule didn't appreciate the alarm very much. We did have a good time talking to some friends who live in the building and meeting some people who are new in our ward.
I love that food tastes normal to me again. Oatmeal, cold cereal, and bread often made me sick throughout my pregnancy, but now they taste good again. It was an immediate change--amazing.
I also love that I can move around normally again. I can bend over to pick things up. I can sit down on the floor like a human instead of an elephant. I can roll over in bed. Best of all, I can hug RT without feeling like he's still a foot away.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Some pictures and thoughts
First I want to show off the projects I finished before K came:
In some emails that my sisters-in-law exchanged before one of my nephews was born, Tiffany wrote about how nice it was to have lots of washable changing pads to use everywhere. I don't think this is quite what she meant, but that gave me the idea to make these. They're basically changing pad sized baby quilts. I thought they would be nice to have to put in my diaper bag so I don't have to change my baby on a dirty floor or a germy changing table. I have three, and I also have the fabric for one more, but the day I was going to get started on it I ended up getting induced instead. They have come in pretty handy, and I had fun trying some different things. The one on the left has hearts (I know, not very masculine--but it had to be something simple) that I made by cutting out a heart on paper and then stitching around it with the sewing machine. For the one on the right I cut out some of the dinosaurs from the extra fabric, turned under the edges using an iron, and stitched them onto the back using a zigzag stitch.
I can can. Three days after K's due date, we went to the farmer's market and bought a bushel of peaches to can. I figured if I wasn't going to have a baby any time soon, I might as well get something done. It also occurred to me that taking on something big might be just the thing to get the baby to come (preventing me from finishing what I started). I kept thinking it was crazy to do this when I was already past the due date, but the urge was pretty irresistible. I did seven quarts a day, three days (skipping Sunday), which means I got a total of 21 quarts, plus several extra peaches that we enjoyed eating after Kevin was born. I did the last batch the day before I was induced, so I finished just in time! I was excited about how easy it was to can. I found a Ball canning kit for sale on Amazon.com, and it was a really good price, so I bought it--it had a big pot, six pint-sized jars with the lids, a rack, a jar lifter, a magnetic jar lid lifter, a bubble remover, a funnel, a Ball Blue Book, and some very useful coupons for some of the other things you might need to have for canning. There are great directions and recipes in the Ball Blue Book (including a recipe for canning squirrels--tempting with all the squirrels that are on the UNC campus, but I don't think I'm going to try that one). All of my jars sealed. I was so pleased. One of the people who wrote a review of the kit said that canning is kind of addictive once you get started, and I can see what she meant--already I keep wondering if I could manage to can something else this year even though I have a new baby and I'm taking two classes starting in a couple of weeks (don't worry--that thought never lasts too long!). I'm excited to try again next year.
And here are some pictures we have taken of K in the last couple of weeks:
I thought this video was so cute:
We are starting a new family business. No discounts if he's crying. (Thanks, Mom, for this cute onesie.)
I wanted to have a video of K when he's just being normal, so that's what this is (the background music wasn't on purpose--it just happened to be playing on RT's computer when he did the video).
About K:
In some emails that my sisters-in-law exchanged before one of my nephews was born, Tiffany wrote about how nice it was to have lots of washable changing pads to use everywhere. I don't think this is quite what she meant, but that gave me the idea to make these. They're basically changing pad sized baby quilts. I thought they would be nice to have to put in my diaper bag so I don't have to change my baby on a dirty floor or a germy changing table. I have three, and I also have the fabric for one more, but the day I was going to get started on it I ended up getting induced instead. They have come in pretty handy, and I had fun trying some different things. The one on the left has hearts (I know, not very masculine--but it had to be something simple) that I made by cutting out a heart on paper and then stitching around it with the sewing machine. For the one on the right I cut out some of the dinosaurs from the extra fabric, turned under the edges using an iron, and stitched them onto the back using a zigzag stitch.
I can can. Three days after K's due date, we went to the farmer's market and bought a bushel of peaches to can. I figured if I wasn't going to have a baby any time soon, I might as well get something done. It also occurred to me that taking on something big might be just the thing to get the baby to come (preventing me from finishing what I started). I kept thinking it was crazy to do this when I was already past the due date, but the urge was pretty irresistible. I did seven quarts a day, three days (skipping Sunday), which means I got a total of 21 quarts, plus several extra peaches that we enjoyed eating after Kevin was born. I did the last batch the day before I was induced, so I finished just in time! I was excited about how easy it was to can. I found a Ball canning kit for sale on Amazon.com, and it was a really good price, so I bought it--it had a big pot, six pint-sized jars with the lids, a rack, a jar lifter, a magnetic jar lid lifter, a bubble remover, a funnel, a Ball Blue Book, and some very useful coupons for some of the other things you might need to have for canning. There are great directions and recipes in the Ball Blue Book (including a recipe for canning squirrels--tempting with all the squirrels that are on the UNC campus, but I don't think I'm going to try that one). All of my jars sealed. I was so pleased. One of the people who wrote a review of the kit said that canning is kind of addictive once you get started, and I can see what she meant--already I keep wondering if I could manage to can something else this year even though I have a new baby and I'm taking two classes starting in a couple of weeks (don't worry--that thought never lasts too long!). I'm excited to try again next year.
And here are some pictures we have taken of K in the last couple of weeks:
I thought this video was so cute:
We are starting a new family business. No discounts if he's crying. (Thanks, Mom, for this cute onesie.)
I wanted to have a video of K when he's just being normal, so that's what this is (the background music wasn't on purpose--it just happened to be playing on RT's computer when he did the video).
About K:
- He likes to snuggle. Unfortunately he tends to get that urge just when I want to eat or go back to sleep, but I'm still trying to treasure those times when he just wants to be held and kept secure and warm. I love to hold this sweet, tiny child close to me and show him in that small way that I love him. Wonderful, brilliant RT quickly discovered that he likes to be held against your chest where he can hear your heartbeat, and that discovery has saved me from listening to hours of inconsolable crying.
- I'm trying to take advantage of our snuggle time to sing Primary songs to him. Once I read a quote by someone who talked about how wonderful it is to be in your mother's arms while she is singing to you, and since then I've always thought I wanted to be sure to sing often to my children. I feel like it's one of the few things I can already do to teach him about the gospel. I love the thoughtful look he gets on his face when I sing those songs.
- He likes baths! I've been amazed at how calmly he handles the water, and even the short cold part between being in the water and getting wrapped in the towel.
- He has such cute expressions--like the "Come on, Mom, do it right" look he makes sometimes when I'm trying to feed him, the crooked smiles when he's half asleep, the "I'm thinking about something very serious" face (he looks so much like my dad when he does that), and the way he stretches his neck and closes his eyes.
- He has fabulous eyes that are such a shiny, dark blue you can barely see the pupils (it will be interesting to see what they end up looking like as he gets older).
- He's taken to what I think would be best described as spluttering when he's just starting to get frustrated.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Birth Story
I've been meaning to write and post this for a while, but it's amazing to me how much time our little baby takes up--there's not as much time between feedings as you would think, and when there is a little time a nap seems like a better option! Sitting in a chair at the computer also isn't the most comfortable thing after you've had a baby.
Our baby boy was born on July 17--remember the due date was July 8. His name is Kevin James Tanner (named after both of our fathers), and he weighed 8 lbs. 1 oz.
And here's the story:
On July 8th, the due date, I had a midwife appointment. The midwife checked me and I was still completely closed. That was kind of discouraging, but I figured the baby would probably come soon and tried not to worry about it. I was scheduled for an induction at 42 weeks (July 22) if he wasn't born by then. I knew chances were that I wouldn't end up going that long, but for some reason it really bothered me, so I looked up some information about how they ripen your cervix and read a lot of things about Pitocin--and decided again that I did NOT want to be induced. It turns out it was a good thing I did a little more research, because the information came in handy.
I had a non-stress test scheduled for July 15, one week after the due date. I went alone to the appointment. I was still feeling well and the thought of being pregnant for a few more days wasn't too bad, although I was feeling impatient. They hooked me up to two monitors--one measured the baby's heartbeat, and the other measured the contractions and the baby's movements. The heartbeat is supposed to increase a little bit when the baby moves. Well, the baby hardly moved at all during the test, although his heartbeat was fine, so they said they wanted to do an ultrasound so they could do a biophysical profile. He looked great, but they found that the amniotic fluid was almost completely gone--very dangerous because without the cushioning of the amniotic fluid the baby could roll on top of the umbilical cord and cut off his supply of oxygen. So the ObGyn on duty came in and said it was time to have a baby. She found the midwife on call, explained the situation to her, and said they needed to send me up to labor and delivery. The midwife said I could call RT and wait for him before coming up to labor and delivery.
I was really upset and disappointed because I knew this meant most of my birth plan was going out the window. I had a wonderful image of spending a lot of labor in my own comfortable apartment, snacking throughout early labor to keep up my strength, then finishing off at the hospital without being attached to any monitors or IVs and definitely not getting any Pitocin or pain medication. I had really felt like this was the best way for me to do it. I had heard from many people that Pitocin makes the contractions horrific, and I was pretty sure that there was no way I would be able to stand being in labor induced by Pitocin. As I was doing my research about induction, I decided that if I ended up having to be induced, I would do my best to go without drugs, but that if it got to the point where I was suffering (rather than managing the pain) I would get an epidural. It was important to me to have a positive birth experience, and I didn't want to look back on something horrific. I'm really glad that for some reason I felt like I needed to put some thought into how I would handle an induced labor.
The midwife, Jane, checked me and I still wasn't dilated at all, which meant they needed to use other means to open me up a little bit before starting the Pitocin. She put in a foley bulb and filled it with water and said that it would fall out when I was dilated to about a 4--she predicted that would happen in 2-4 hours. While we waited I ate as much as I could because once they started the Pitocin I wouldn't be able to eat. Jane said this would probably be a very long process--at least 24-36 hours. I had to be hooked up to the fetal monitors all the time because of the low fluid levels, and they also put a medlock in my hand for the IV. It was really annoying because the monitors often slipped around when I moved and the medlock made my hand about as useful as if it was broken. Fortunately they had some telemetry monitors, so I wasn't plugged into a wall all the time and I was free to walk around.
It turned out that instead of taking a couple of hours for the foley bulb to come out, it took about 24 hours--it didn't come out until the next day. That was nice since I was able to eat and get some sleep and a shower before the Pitocin, but it was very boring to wait (it didn't hurt at all yet), which was why I would have preferred to be at home.
They started the Pitocin on Thursday morning. A new midwife, Stephanie, was on call. She told me that if I had been seeing the ObGyns they would have just done a C-section the day before because of failure to progress (of course I was failing to progress--I wasn't supposed to be in labor yet!)--fortunately the midwives don't mind giving you a little more time as long as the baby is doing okay . You can imagine I've said a lot of prayers of gratitude for that blessing. I really feel that I was guided by a higher power to choose midwives for my prenatal care. It's more evidence to me that God is Keeping My Feet.
In the afternoon I finally started having contractions that required some concentration. We did a lot of walking in the halls (RT was amazing and dragged the IV pole around for me). When I had contractions I would put my arms around him and sway while breathing deeply. As the contractions became more intense I started moaning through them. Occasionally I would assess my pain, and I kept feeling like I was handling the contractions just fine and definitely wasn't suffering yet, so I didn't ask for an epidural.
Around 9:00 at night I was starting to have a pretty hard time. I was really tired and that was making it hard to handle the contractions. I was starting to think I needed some relief--remember I had figured I would be getting an epidural because of how hard the Pitocin would make the contractions. Stephanie checked me and I was at a six, which was good progress. I assessed my pain and realized that it still wasn't unbearable except that I was incredibly tired, and Stephanie suggested that rather than an epidural I could take a small dose of narcotics, which would help me to sleep between the contractions and not care so much about the pain of the contractions--they would work for about two hours. I felt good about that option, and I think it was a good decision to take the narcotics. It helped me to get just enough rest to finish. RT says I said some pretty strange things to him during those couple of hours.
After the narcotics wore off we walked the halls some more. We also raised the back of the bed and I would sit on the side and lean sideways against the back. Eventually instead of moaning I was saying "I Can" in long, low tones. That really helped when I would reach the peak of the contractions and wasn't sure if I could make it through.
Several hours later the contractions were getting really intense and very painful. I'm not sure why I didn't realize I was in transition because I had lots of the symptoms and I had been dilated to a six several hours earlier. Now I felt like the pain was bad enough that if I had to endure this and worse for several more hours I would be suffering, so I told Ryan I thought it was time to think about the epidural. I didn't want to get one, but it was also important to me to not look back on a horrific birth experience and I thought I was going to have several more hours of even worse pain. He encouraged me to try waiting a little longer and then we would have the midwife check to see how much progress had been made. He was so helpful and did a great job taking charge of the situation. I couldn't have done it without him. Stephanie checked me and I was at a nine! In other words, there was no point in getting an epidural because soon I would be pushing and it might not provide relief until it was too late. All I could think was, "Are you kidding me? I'm actually going to have my epidural-free childbirth experience after all?"
Soon I realized why this had been so painful--it wasn't just the contractions, but also the urge to push. It was really hard to resist pushing while I waited to completely dilate. I hated it. Finally the nurse checked me and I was completely dilated, so Stephanie said I could start pushing. This was at about 5:00 in the morning. It felt a lot better to push. It didn't really seem painful anymore, which surprised me. It was exhilarating to push, but I didn't really like pushing because I just wanted to be done and I had no idea what was going on. RT and my nurse were great coaches and I quickly figured out how it felt when I was pushing effectively. At this point the fetal monitors were really annoying because it was painful for anything to be touching my belly.
Stephanie's shift ended and I had a new midwife, Meg, for the last little bit of pushing. Stephanie told me I was a strong woman for being able to have a natural childbirth while on Pitocin, and she also joked that Meg was stealing her delivery. I was so thrilled that I was in the pushing stage without drugs. I don't know if I would have been able to push effectively if I couldn't feel what was going on, and I think it really added something to the entire experience. Finally there was a push where I felt a very strong stinging, and I knew before they told me that the head had crowned. After a couple more sets of pushes Meg told me that on the next contraction she wanted me to blow instead of pushing so that I wouldn't tear, and I knew that THIS WAS IT! The baby was going to come out this time! It was an amazing moment when I saw Meg hold him up and they passed him into my arms (no slimy skin-to-skin for me--they wrapped him in a blanket first). I was smiling and nearly crying. He was so beautiful. Pretty soon I asked RT if he wanted to hold him because Meg was stitching me up and that was distracting me (looking back I kind of wish I had asked to see the placenta because I was kind of curious). I loved watching RT and K bonding. I pushed for about three hours, but I completely lost track of the time and didn't realize how long it had taken.
This was a very long process, but I'm so grateful that I still ended up having a good experience and even more grateful that my beautiful son is here and completely healthy. The last week and a half have been wonderful. There have definitely been challenges and tears, but somehow we've been able to figure out what to do in every case. I am so excited for the opportunity to be a mother and I feel so strongly that there's no better way to make a difference in this world. This is what I want to do. I often feel amazed at this beautiful boy who is completely dependent on me for his survival--and I really am capable of providing those needs. It's hard to believe that I have a baby of my very own now--only a couple of years ago that time seemed so far away.
One of the things I am most grateful for is the guidance and strength I have received from the Holy Ghost during the last couple of weeks. One of the things I was really hoping was that giving birth would be a spiritual experience, and it definitely was. I felt an impression from the Holy Ghost that I should switch to the midwives, and in the end this saved me from having a C-section. I was prompted by the Spirit to do a little more research to prepare for an induced labor, so when that happened I was prepared and knew better what was going on and how to be my own advocate as a patient. Throughout labor I heard and felt the voice of the Spirit helping me and giving me strength--when I could feel a contraction starting and just wasn't sure if I could handle it, I distinctly heard, "Let me help you," and that helped me make it through. When it has been the middle of the night and K won't stop crying and I'm exhausted, the Holy Ghost has reassured me that I'm doing a good job taking care of my child and that it will be okay. I'm so grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost. Even though it changed all of my plans, I am also grateful that they were able to find the problem with the low amniotic fluid--I have to wonder if K would have been born safe, alive, and healthy if they hadn't.
I am also grateful for RT. He has been a wonderful help and support for me. I can't imagine going through the process of labor without him there to support me--he knows me so well and often was able to suggest just the right thing to help me keep going. He does a great job of soothing K when he is upset, and he has been doing a lot of things to help me out so that I can rest and recover. I really appreciate the encouragement he has given me. I also feel so blessed that we are married for all eternity and that he is a worthy, noble priesthood holder.
Our baby boy was born on July 17--remember the due date was July 8. His name is Kevin James Tanner (named after both of our fathers), and he weighed 8 lbs. 1 oz.
And here's the story:
On July 8th, the due date, I had a midwife appointment. The midwife checked me and I was still completely closed. That was kind of discouraging, but I figured the baby would probably come soon and tried not to worry about it. I was scheduled for an induction at 42 weeks (July 22) if he wasn't born by then. I knew chances were that I wouldn't end up going that long, but for some reason it really bothered me, so I looked up some information about how they ripen your cervix and read a lot of things about Pitocin--and decided again that I did NOT want to be induced. It turns out it was a good thing I did a little more research, because the information came in handy.
I had a non-stress test scheduled for July 15, one week after the due date. I went alone to the appointment. I was still feeling well and the thought of being pregnant for a few more days wasn't too bad, although I was feeling impatient. They hooked me up to two monitors--one measured the baby's heartbeat, and the other measured the contractions and the baby's movements. The heartbeat is supposed to increase a little bit when the baby moves. Well, the baby hardly moved at all during the test, although his heartbeat was fine, so they said they wanted to do an ultrasound so they could do a biophysical profile. He looked great, but they found that the amniotic fluid was almost completely gone--very dangerous because without the cushioning of the amniotic fluid the baby could roll on top of the umbilical cord and cut off his supply of oxygen. So the ObGyn on duty came in and said it was time to have a baby. She found the midwife on call, explained the situation to her, and said they needed to send me up to labor and delivery. The midwife said I could call RT and wait for him before coming up to labor and delivery.
I was really upset and disappointed because I knew this meant most of my birth plan was going out the window. I had a wonderful image of spending a lot of labor in my own comfortable apartment, snacking throughout early labor to keep up my strength, then finishing off at the hospital without being attached to any monitors or IVs and definitely not getting any Pitocin or pain medication. I had really felt like this was the best way for me to do it. I had heard from many people that Pitocin makes the contractions horrific, and I was pretty sure that there was no way I would be able to stand being in labor induced by Pitocin. As I was doing my research about induction, I decided that if I ended up having to be induced, I would do my best to go without drugs, but that if it got to the point where I was suffering (rather than managing the pain) I would get an epidural. It was important to me to have a positive birth experience, and I didn't want to look back on something horrific. I'm really glad that for some reason I felt like I needed to put some thought into how I would handle an induced labor.
The midwife, Jane, checked me and I still wasn't dilated at all, which meant they needed to use other means to open me up a little bit before starting the Pitocin. She put in a foley bulb and filled it with water and said that it would fall out when I was dilated to about a 4--she predicted that would happen in 2-4 hours. While we waited I ate as much as I could because once they started the Pitocin I wouldn't be able to eat. Jane said this would probably be a very long process--at least 24-36 hours. I had to be hooked up to the fetal monitors all the time because of the low fluid levels, and they also put a medlock in my hand for the IV. It was really annoying because the monitors often slipped around when I moved and the medlock made my hand about as useful as if it was broken. Fortunately they had some telemetry monitors, so I wasn't plugged into a wall all the time and I was free to walk around.
It turned out that instead of taking a couple of hours for the foley bulb to come out, it took about 24 hours--it didn't come out until the next day. That was nice since I was able to eat and get some sleep and a shower before the Pitocin, but it was very boring to wait (it didn't hurt at all yet), which was why I would have preferred to be at home.
They started the Pitocin on Thursday morning. A new midwife, Stephanie, was on call. She told me that if I had been seeing the ObGyns they would have just done a C-section the day before because of failure to progress (of course I was failing to progress--I wasn't supposed to be in labor yet!)--fortunately the midwives don't mind giving you a little more time as long as the baby is doing okay . You can imagine I've said a lot of prayers of gratitude for that blessing. I really feel that I was guided by a higher power to choose midwives for my prenatal care. It's more evidence to me that God is Keeping My Feet.
In the afternoon I finally started having contractions that required some concentration. We did a lot of walking in the halls (RT was amazing and dragged the IV pole around for me). When I had contractions I would put my arms around him and sway while breathing deeply. As the contractions became more intense I started moaning through them. Occasionally I would assess my pain, and I kept feeling like I was handling the contractions just fine and definitely wasn't suffering yet, so I didn't ask for an epidural.
Around 9:00 at night I was starting to have a pretty hard time. I was really tired and that was making it hard to handle the contractions. I was starting to think I needed some relief--remember I had figured I would be getting an epidural because of how hard the Pitocin would make the contractions. Stephanie checked me and I was at a six, which was good progress. I assessed my pain and realized that it still wasn't unbearable except that I was incredibly tired, and Stephanie suggested that rather than an epidural I could take a small dose of narcotics, which would help me to sleep between the contractions and not care so much about the pain of the contractions--they would work for about two hours. I felt good about that option, and I think it was a good decision to take the narcotics. It helped me to get just enough rest to finish. RT says I said some pretty strange things to him during those couple of hours.
After the narcotics wore off we walked the halls some more. We also raised the back of the bed and I would sit on the side and lean sideways against the back. Eventually instead of moaning I was saying "I Can" in long, low tones. That really helped when I would reach the peak of the contractions and wasn't sure if I could make it through.
Several hours later the contractions were getting really intense and very painful. I'm not sure why I didn't realize I was in transition because I had lots of the symptoms and I had been dilated to a six several hours earlier. Now I felt like the pain was bad enough that if I had to endure this and worse for several more hours I would be suffering, so I told Ryan I thought it was time to think about the epidural. I didn't want to get one, but it was also important to me to not look back on a horrific birth experience and I thought I was going to have several more hours of even worse pain. He encouraged me to try waiting a little longer and then we would have the midwife check to see how much progress had been made. He was so helpful and did a great job taking charge of the situation. I couldn't have done it without him. Stephanie checked me and I was at a nine! In other words, there was no point in getting an epidural because soon I would be pushing and it might not provide relief until it was too late. All I could think was, "Are you kidding me? I'm actually going to have my epidural-free childbirth experience after all?"
Soon I realized why this had been so painful--it wasn't just the contractions, but also the urge to push. It was really hard to resist pushing while I waited to completely dilate. I hated it. Finally the nurse checked me and I was completely dilated, so Stephanie said I could start pushing. This was at about 5:00 in the morning. It felt a lot better to push. It didn't really seem painful anymore, which surprised me. It was exhilarating to push, but I didn't really like pushing because I just wanted to be done and I had no idea what was going on. RT and my nurse were great coaches and I quickly figured out how it felt when I was pushing effectively. At this point the fetal monitors were really annoying because it was painful for anything to be touching my belly.
Stephanie's shift ended and I had a new midwife, Meg, for the last little bit of pushing. Stephanie told me I was a strong woman for being able to have a natural childbirth while on Pitocin, and she also joked that Meg was stealing her delivery. I was so thrilled that I was in the pushing stage without drugs. I don't know if I would have been able to push effectively if I couldn't feel what was going on, and I think it really added something to the entire experience. Finally there was a push where I felt a very strong stinging, and I knew before they told me that the head had crowned. After a couple more sets of pushes Meg told me that on the next contraction she wanted me to blow instead of pushing so that I wouldn't tear, and I knew that THIS WAS IT! The baby was going to come out this time! It was an amazing moment when I saw Meg hold him up and they passed him into my arms (no slimy skin-to-skin for me--they wrapped him in a blanket first). I was smiling and nearly crying. He was so beautiful. Pretty soon I asked RT if he wanted to hold him because Meg was stitching me up and that was distracting me (looking back I kind of wish I had asked to see the placenta because I was kind of curious). I loved watching RT and K bonding. I pushed for about three hours, but I completely lost track of the time and didn't realize how long it had taken.
This was a very long process, but I'm so grateful that I still ended up having a good experience and even more grateful that my beautiful son is here and completely healthy. The last week and a half have been wonderful. There have definitely been challenges and tears, but somehow we've been able to figure out what to do in every case. I am so excited for the opportunity to be a mother and I feel so strongly that there's no better way to make a difference in this world. This is what I want to do. I often feel amazed at this beautiful boy who is completely dependent on me for his survival--and I really am capable of providing those needs. It's hard to believe that I have a baby of my very own now--only a couple of years ago that time seemed so far away.
One of the things I am most grateful for is the guidance and strength I have received from the Holy Ghost during the last couple of weeks. One of the things I was really hoping was that giving birth would be a spiritual experience, and it definitely was. I felt an impression from the Holy Ghost that I should switch to the midwives, and in the end this saved me from having a C-section. I was prompted by the Spirit to do a little more research to prepare for an induced labor, so when that happened I was prepared and knew better what was going on and how to be my own advocate as a patient. Throughout labor I heard and felt the voice of the Spirit helping me and giving me strength--when I could feel a contraction starting and just wasn't sure if I could handle it, I distinctly heard, "Let me help you," and that helped me make it through. When it has been the middle of the night and K won't stop crying and I'm exhausted, the Holy Ghost has reassured me that I'm doing a good job taking care of my child and that it will be okay. I'm so grateful for the gift of the Holy Ghost. Even though it changed all of my plans, I am also grateful that they were able to find the problem with the low amniotic fluid--I have to wonder if K would have been born safe, alive, and healthy if they hadn't.
I am also grateful for RT. He has been a wonderful help and support for me. I can't imagine going through the process of labor without him there to support me--he knows me so well and often was able to suggest just the right thing to help me keep going. He does a great job of soothing K when he is upset, and he has been doing a lot of things to help me out so that I can rest and recover. I really appreciate the encouragement he has given me. I also feel so blessed that we are married for all eternity and that he is a worthy, noble priesthood holder.
Monday, July 13, 2009
no baby, M's first cockroach, and [not] rabid foxes
We still do not have a baby. Well, we do, but he hasn't been born yet. I'm experiencing a few positive signs that indicate that my body is preparing for labor, such as Braxton-Hicks that are becoming more and more frequent, a noticeable decrease in how much the baby kicks my ribs (he doesn't seem to be able to reach them anymore), and more pressure, movement, and soreness lower down in my hips, but nothing that means the real, um, fun has begun. I'm trying to stay positive about it and recognize that even though these aren't the real thing, they do mean that it's getting close. The past week or so has been a lot more uncomfortable for me, but still not so bad. I'm just continuing to do normal things and trying to think about the wonderful little blessing that is coming into our lives rather than worrying about things I can't control.
I've concluded that the baby is either not going to come until I've finished up the projects I was determined to finish before he was born, or he's going to come just as I get started on something big. Accordingly, I've nearly finished one of the things I've been working on for a couple of months, and I decided three days after the due date that I was going to start something completely new. I'll probably post about both projects soon, with pictures, but I want to finish first. We'll see if either of those things will put me into labor--haha. I guess in reality it's mostly up to hormones and such.
Seriously, I'm not desperate to go into labor. I can handle waiting a little longer.
A few days ago we decided to go out for a walk--it was kind of late at night because it's a lot cooler in the dark, which is important to me since I'm feeling so hot a lot of the time. After a couple of minutes I commented to RT that now I finally understand why pregnant women waddle--because they're kind of in pain! Part of the reason I wanted to go for a walk was because I was having some hip pain and it seemed to help to walk. I was finding that something that resembles waddling was more comfortable than the way I normally walk. I feel like I need to clarify again that I'm not suffering--I'm really feeling great. As I've grown bigger and heavier in the past few months my walking hasn't really changed--I've continued to be able to walk normally and at a regular pace. Generally that's still the case, but this night was particularly hard, I guess. I've been amazed and grateful at how well I have been feeling.
I suggested that we walk by the business college and then past the basketball stadium to get back to our apartment. The landscaping by the business college is really nice, especially in the dark with the fountains and lights. Leaving the courtyard by the business college was where the adventures began. We were walking along and talking, and as we passed a drain I noticed a couple of brown things and thought they were just little leaves. Then RT grabbed my arm to pull me farther from the drain, and I realized the brown things were crawling. Yep, my first cockroaches--they seemed to be living in the drain or something. I've seen them in pictures, of course, but I hadn't been close to a wild one before. I'm proud to say that I didn't scream or jump around dramatically with my arms waving around (I think RT was glad too). But it did startle me. I would definitely prefer to not have cockroaches crawling around my house. Pretty gross. RT said those are the clean cockroaches--I would hate to see the dirty ones.
After taking a couple of seconds to recover from seeing our little brown friends and for RT to enjoy my reaction to them, we kept walking, but after only a few steps I looked towards some trees and bushes and saw some small shapes. Initially I thought they were cats, but then I realized they were sort of jumping and thought they were rabbits, but then they were walking and seemed more like cats again, but then they looked towards us and their long ears seemed to suggest that they were rabbits. Then we saw that they had long bushy tails and I couldn't figure out what they were until RT said, "Oh, they're foxes." We paused to say how cute they were and just kept walking past them without bothering them. One of the foxes seemed interested in us and slowly made its way towards us. RT said we should probably keep our distance because he had read that there had been some foxes with rabies hanging around in the area lately. Thanks. I'm such a worrier, and after letting "foxes with rabies" echo in my head a few times I had an image of angry foxes attacking our legs. The fox continued to approach slowly as we walked past, and I was breaking into a cold sweat. But we took a nice slow pace and kept walking and eventually the fox stopped where it was and let us go. Only then did RT point out that we didn't need to worry because the foxes obviously weren't acting like they had rabies, and I felt a little sheepish. The fox that was coming closer had been very relaxed, just a little wary and curious--he wasn't acting at all like a diseased animal preparing to attack for no apparent reason. Besides, RT could have easily chased it away if there was any danger. So we escaped the perfectly normal foxes and finished our walk, and I was reminded that I needed to be careful to not get carried away with being worried.
I've concluded that the baby is either not going to come until I've finished up the projects I was determined to finish before he was born, or he's going to come just as I get started on something big. Accordingly, I've nearly finished one of the things I've been working on for a couple of months, and I decided three days after the due date that I was going to start something completely new. I'll probably post about both projects soon, with pictures, but I want to finish first. We'll see if either of those things will put me into labor--haha. I guess in reality it's mostly up to hormones and such.
Seriously, I'm not desperate to go into labor. I can handle waiting a little longer.
A few days ago we decided to go out for a walk--it was kind of late at night because it's a lot cooler in the dark, which is important to me since I'm feeling so hot a lot of the time. After a couple of minutes I commented to RT that now I finally understand why pregnant women waddle--because they're kind of in pain! Part of the reason I wanted to go for a walk was because I was having some hip pain and it seemed to help to walk. I was finding that something that resembles waddling was more comfortable than the way I normally walk. I feel like I need to clarify again that I'm not suffering--I'm really feeling great. As I've grown bigger and heavier in the past few months my walking hasn't really changed--I've continued to be able to walk normally and at a regular pace. Generally that's still the case, but this night was particularly hard, I guess. I've been amazed and grateful at how well I have been feeling.
I suggested that we walk by the business college and then past the basketball stadium to get back to our apartment. The landscaping by the business college is really nice, especially in the dark with the fountains and lights. Leaving the courtyard by the business college was where the adventures began. We were walking along and talking, and as we passed a drain I noticed a couple of brown things and thought they were just little leaves. Then RT grabbed my arm to pull me farther from the drain, and I realized the brown things were crawling. Yep, my first cockroaches--they seemed to be living in the drain or something. I've seen them in pictures, of course, but I hadn't been close to a wild one before. I'm proud to say that I didn't scream or jump around dramatically with my arms waving around (I think RT was glad too). But it did startle me. I would definitely prefer to not have cockroaches crawling around my house. Pretty gross. RT said those are the clean cockroaches--I would hate to see the dirty ones.
After taking a couple of seconds to recover from seeing our little brown friends and for RT to enjoy my reaction to them, we kept walking, but after only a few steps I looked towards some trees and bushes and saw some small shapes. Initially I thought they were cats, but then I realized they were sort of jumping and thought they were rabbits, but then they were walking and seemed more like cats again, but then they looked towards us and their long ears seemed to suggest that they were rabbits. Then we saw that they had long bushy tails and I couldn't figure out what they were until RT said, "Oh, they're foxes." We paused to say how cute they were and just kept walking past them without bothering them. One of the foxes seemed interested in us and slowly made its way towards us. RT said we should probably keep our distance because he had read that there had been some foxes with rabies hanging around in the area lately. Thanks. I'm such a worrier, and after letting "foxes with rabies" echo in my head a few times I had an image of angry foxes attacking our legs. The fox continued to approach slowly as we walked past, and I was breaking into a cold sweat. But we took a nice slow pace and kept walking and eventually the fox stopped where it was and let us go. Only then did RT point out that we didn't need to worry because the foxes obviously weren't acting like they had rabies, and I felt a little sheepish. The fox that was coming closer had been very relaxed, just a little wary and curious--he wasn't acting at all like a diseased animal preparing to attack for no apparent reason. Besides, RT could have easily chased it away if there was any danger. So we escaped the perfectly normal foxes and finished our walk, and I was reminded that I needed to be careful to not get carried away with being worried.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
a timely reminder for me
“We have a secret in our culture, and it’s not that birth is painful; it’s that women are strong.” ~ Laura Stavoe Harm
So true. I believe it. It was just what I needed to hear.
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