Weekend Getaway

Because I care about all of you:

I'm in the hotel room, in bed. My body is still running but I'm still. Everyone is asleep but me, as usual, but I can't shut my brain off.

"You did something. We are being punished for something. It's your fault. You're the one who got pooped on. I'm being punished just because I'm here with you." - What I said to Travis 3 hours ago.

We bought tickets for the GA aquarium on the way here. I asked for the trip as a birthday gift for myself. I love Atlanta, I missed Atlanta. You can save money, ya know, buying tickets online before arriving. Not only that, but you can get 30% off if buying tickets to visit after 4. No one wants to go after 4. Kids are tired (other than mine) and people want dinner an hour or two later. Everyone goes during the day. It's perfect for those of us who don't like crowds, maybe also those with any form of OCD.

If there were a place specifically designed for my eternal punishment, it would be exactly like the GA aquarium on a Saturday night, after 4. Welcome to the best aquarium in the US of A. Enjoy your walk through the hipster smokers on your way to our door. Breathe in the views kids. Oh look, we can go in the short line, so glad I bought these tickets online. The place is huge, estimated you can fit the population of GA in there, and comfortably according to those benefiting. The whales are cool, the sea otters are cute. What else is there, you ask, in the greatest aquarium in the USA? Oh, I have no clue. I have no clue because I couldn't see. I was blinded by the coughing. There were smells, and coughing, and hacking, coughing,  people, and I think there were some fish.

"Let's go to the dolphin show" -me

There weren't too many people going up the elevator to the dolphin celebration. Maybe no one noticed the times. Perfect. Up the elevator, a whole other crowd of people, new people, new population of coughers, new antibiotic resistant superbugs floating through the air.

"This is the perfect time to go see everything. Let's skip this, go back, everyone will come here. Perfect." -me

"There is no turning back." -Travis (bad karma)

The place is packed like Walmart on Black Friday. I want to keep my family alive, there is no turning back.

If you sit in the first 3 rows at the dolphin show you get soaked, first ten, you get wet. They tell you over and over and over and over, just in case you're allergic to dolphin water, it's serious. 30 minutes of waiting, one year old OVER it. 20 minutes of awesome dolphinness (yep), dolphins sure are magical creatures, 10 more minutes, one year old losing it again. Exit.

Isla needs something from the gift shop, so Travis takes Emmeline outside for air. Blowfish stuffed animal, perfect. In line- ridiculous wait time for a blowfish.

Travis returns, eyes wide, obviously stressed, "she p???ed."

Blowfish down. We are out. I told Isla she puked and we had to go. Something is wrong. Isla cries over blowfish. Travis takes the stairs to the car, four flights up parking garage, holding a 26lb puking(??) baby. I feel for him. Isla and I take the elevator, we have the double stroller, plus, ya know. We meet Travis as he is coming out the stairwell. Man, he just ran those stairs for nothing.

"She pooped all over herself and all over me." -Travis

Wait.

Poop? I just ran out of the line for poop?!? Isla is still crying over said blowfish. Must parent four year old.

"Isla, I am so sorry. I thought Emmeline was puking and really sick. I didn't hear clearly, so sorry. We will order the most giant blowfish I can find." -me (quality parenting)

So we are off. Travis needed a poopless shirt. TJ Max was in sight, right next to Whole Foods, perfect, we were starving. We bathed off the germs and jumped in bed, praying to silence the children for the night. Peace, at last.

We were planning on going to the zoo tomorrow, but I just can't. The kids don't care. They don't even like the zoo that much anyways, right? It was purely for us to feel like we're doing the right thing, taking our kids to the zoo. Elephants aren't made of chocolate, Isla doesn't care. Plus, my moral integrity was already tested with the whole dolphin thing. Forgive me God, I know better.



Continued after returning home....

Emmeline woke us up at 7 Sunday morning. We decided to find the closest park for the kids to play. Luckily, we were in Buckhead so the closest park was awesome, the most unique park we have ever been to. It somewhat made up for the insanity the day before. Isla and Emmeline ran around and played, even in the rain, until they were exhausted. We were thankful for the trees, the fresh air, lack of people, and smiles. We headed back for naps and checked out of the hotel at noon. The rain was peaceful, and washed away any guilt for skipping the zoo.

So, once again, I care for you all so much. IF you feel like you are losing it, you just need a little tap-tap to push you face first into the deep end, go to the GA Aquarium, on a Saturday, after 4pm..

Emmeline's Birth

Pregnancy with Isla was a breeze compared to pregnancy with Emmeline. My body took that relaxin hormone and ran with it. The last month was tough physically. Somehow my shoulder was injured and burned with pain, my left hip and back were painful, and the heartburn was ridiculous. I started having contractions around 30 weeks, and became nervous a few times due to the intensity. My midwife, Michelle Ray, was in Hawaii when I was 33 weeks and experiencing continuous contractions along with pressure. She advised visiting my backup OB. I was told there to go to the hospital for a steroid shot because I was about 2cm dilated and very effaced. We were also told that I would not go full term. Travis was with me, and we decided to have lunch after the OB appointment to research the shot & what I was experiencing. We decided against the shot quickly after learning that a woman can stay extremely effaced and dilated for a long period of time. My friend experienced something similar and she went 10 weeks past her appointment, so we concluded that it was unnecessary. Emmeline was later born at 41 weeks.

I still expected her to come early based on the amount of pressure and contractions. She had other plans. Tuesday, May 5th, I woke up at 8am with some mild contractions but more pressure than I experienced before. I made breakfast and waited for Isla to wake up. I told Travis to stay home because I thought labor had possibly started. It wasn't painful starting out, the pressure was a lot, but what I experienced with Isla threw me off. I wasn't actually sure if this was it. With Isla, my water broke first and everything became intense quickly. I had never experienced a painless contraction while in labor. A few hours later we played cards and started timing the contractions. There was a pattern some of the time, and I noticed the contractions getting closer together. I called my midwife to let her know I was probably in labor, still wasn't sure if it would be that day or the next. Around 2pm I started leaking fluid. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but assumed I had a slow leak in the bag of waters. I let my midwife know about the fluid, and told her the contractions were closer together and there was a lot of pressure, but still not too painful. The pressure didn't feel good by any means, it stopped me in my tracks, but it was tolerable. She asked if I needed her, and I responded by saying I really wasn't sure. She said she would pack up all of her stuff and take her time driving to my house. I also let my doula, Lauren Caldwell, know it was probably time. I continued to work through the pressure and soon knew I was in the beginning stages and it would likely happen that day. I felt excited, nervous, and somewhat in shock that it wasn't hurting worse. Was this what I read about in birth stories, the first stage of labor? I never knew it could feel so mild. Michelle, her assistant, Mary, and Lauren all arrived around 5pm. Isla was also waking up from her nap, so my mom picked her up to spend the day at her house during the birth. At this point the pressure was intense, I leaned against an exercise ball on my knees. This was the most comfortable position for the pressure. I was still able to talk and laugh between the contractions. The ladies brought all the supplies in, which I had no idea would be so much. My bedroom soon looked like a birthing room, it was comforting and perfect. Michelle checked my vitals and gave me a long Q-tip looking thing to check if the leaking fluid was from the bag, and it indeed was. I asked her to check me, and I don't quite remember what she said, but she did tell us to go ahead and let the photographer (this being my best friend, Ashley) know she should nurse her babies and leave sometime soon. I believe Ashley arrived around 7. 

Lauren was rubbing my back and applying counter pressure during contractions. She was awesome, and helped so much. The counter pressure was incredibly helpful. I tried sitting on the birthing ball in the shower since the pool wasn't blown up yet. I did not like sitting, it was awful, so I asked Travis to get in with me and hold me up during contractions. I remember telling him in the shower that the contractions were painful but was sure I had a long time to go since they felt nothing like labor with Isla. The shower was the most comfortable place. I would hold Travis' shoulders or forearms, bend my knees, and dig my head into his chest. We got out and let Michelle check me again, 7cm this time and Emmeline was engaged and ready to make an entrance once my cervix fully dilated.

Emme was born on Cinco de Mayo. Everyone thought this was funny.
I'm not sure I knew what was happening.

 Michelle knew we were close and asked me if I still wanted the pool blown up. The pressure was now very intense, and I could feel she was engaged and I was entering transition. I got in the pool, probably spent about 20 minutes in there at most, and wanted to get out and checked again. I was ready to go, fully dilated, but still not feeling the urge to push. I never felt the urge with Isla either. Michelle assured me I could push whenever I felt like it, so I did. I went from the bed, to the floor squatting, and back to the bed. It is somewhat a blur, but I remember asking Michelle about a million times if she was sure she saw her coming, and told her I was scared. I told her how painful it was, and that I couldn't do it. I remember looking at Michelle at one point and feeling an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort. She gave me a reassuring look. I believe it was when I told her I was scared and she responded saying "I know." I  now gave into my body, and was letting go of all fears and having this baby. I think Michelle knew I was dealing with PTSD from my last birth, even more than I knew I was. I honestly didn't realize I had such an issue until I found out I was pregnant again, but the birth, even though I was prepared, brought about triggers at certain points, especially while pushing. Everyone around me was very encouraging. Michelle was telling me how close I was and focused on informing me when to push or not to push to avoid tearing. Ashley and Lauren reminded me that everything was okay, she was coming, they could see her, and encouraged me during pushing. Travis sat beside me during pushing and helped coach my breathing. I pushed for an hour and a half and she was born at 10:31pm. Michelle placed her on my chest immediately. She soon began examining Emmeline and gave her oxygen because her levels were a little low, and she was coughing up fluid. I watched the oxygen monitor and soon felt much relief when the levels started rising. She was okay, I was okay, all was perfect.

My girls meeting for the first time

My parents soon arrived with Isla. She made comments like "she came out of your belly," "she was born," "she has fingers," "she has eyes," "she has a nose," and I could go on. It was precious. I couldn't hold back the tears at this point, We were all together, my baby girls, and all was well. Emmeline and I took a relaxing herb bath then went back to the bed to nurse. Michelle, Mary, and Lauren stayed for hours after the birth to check on Emmeline and myself. I sat in the bed trying to nurse Emmeline in disbelief that she was here and everything was so peaceful. I wasn't stressed, instead I felt loved and cared for. These ladies around me genuinely cared. I felt it the entire time I was in labor and during the birth. Absolutely incredible. Childbirth is beyond personal, it's vulnerable, and can feel overwhelmingly empowering. With Isla, I felt defeated. I had a drug free birth like I desired, she was healthy, but I was bullied and treated like a sick patient during the birth. With Emmeline, I felt safe and loved. The faces around me were comforting.

Herb bath

I believe this may have been about the 3rd time Emme pooped on Michelle. 

8 lbs

I consider Michelle a friend. She has encouraged me beyond what is to be expected from a midwife. I opened up to her about everything during pregnancy, and she reassured me as many times as I needed. Michelle is an incredible midwife, one who listens, provides, and takes safety seriously. I trust her, and I chose her because she was exactly what I needed to have a positive birth experience and heal. Thanks to her, I had no tearing. After Isla's birth I couldn't stand without serious pain. I could hardly hold my baby, especially not while standing. Thinking back to postpartum with Isla, negative memories of pain and concern flood my mind. This time I felt as normal as one can feel after birth. I didn't feel that pain, and healing was easy. I felt so great that I didn't listen to Michelle and did laundry and didn't rest like I should have. I soon regretted that when the bleeding worsened, but I felt okay, and that was awesome. Only happy tears ran after Emme's birth. :)

Everyone watching Emme get examined

I must thank the ladies who provided support throughout my pregnancy. Thank you Michelle Ray, Leigh Anne Hancock, Alicia Fox, and Ashley Macco for the talks, e-mails, and encouraging words.

Teddy

 

Almost eight years ago I received the gift of a little black
and white puppy. He was the cutest, softest, sweetest little guy. I named him
Teddy. It seemed fitting, he was as cute and soft as a teddy bear, and over the
years became my safety blanket and companion. He moved and traveled with me
everywhere I went. We moved a total of seven times during his lifetime. I spent
years in cities that were quite unfamiliar. At some points I didn’t have anyone
but him, but at all points I didn’t have much of anyone but him. I felt nervous
at night staying alone, but he brought comfort. I knew he would bark if he
heard anything, although he would also bark at nothing. His kisses and cuddles
brought joy when life contained heartbreak or loneliness. It became difficult
to feel homesick because he became my home. We went for long walks several
times a day. He taught me just how much I love the feel of salty warm air
during the night. We swam in the bay, ocean, and creeks. He would chase a stick
or ball, and felt little fear of the waves. I’d let him off the leash on the
beach and he would run like mad as fast as he could, and for some reason loved
to dig his face into the sand covering his nose and lips. I taught him how to
go down the slide at out apartment complex. He would climb up by himself and
slide down. We took eight hour car rides from FL to TN many times. He refused
to sit anywhere but the driver’s side. I never minded.

 

 

Teddy loved me dearly. He was full of endless love and fun.
I’ll never forget how he would dig under the covers making the funniest sound,
or how he stood his legs on me to give hugs and kisses. I would tire of
throwing the ball, but he would demand by repeatedly putting the ball closer
and closer to me until I threw it. This was better than the occasional sticking
the ball under something so I had to get it out. He would nudge and bark loudly
until I got the ball for him. He was young at heart, this never changed.

 

 

 

After meeting Travis we learned Teddy had a very protective
side. I will never know if this was simply natural or a response from my fears
living alone. I’ve always had a feeling that it was a learned behavior. He
tried attacking Travis when he would step near me and Teddy was beside me. This
only happened if we were both sitting or lying down. He succeeded a few times
in actually attacking Travis, sometimes leaving marks or drawing blood. He did
this to my dad as well. He was always protecting me. After some time he would
attack your feet if you stepped too close to him while he was sleeping. We
noticed quickly that he did not like children. They made him feel uneasy, and
he would become nervous if one came near while indoors. He was pretty much fine
with anyone outdoors, not sure he ever attacked anyone outside. I became very
nervous when we discovered we were having a baby. I talked to my veterinarian
and a few dog trainers. I was not sure what would happen, but obviously taking
risks was not a possibility. Teddy stayed separated from Isla at all times.
This was easier when she was little, but once she started walking around it
became sad. We had to lock him up behind a gate or keep him outside. He would
bark continuously sometimes, not understanding why he could not be with us. If
Isla stepped near the gate he would growl, or if she walked by the window when
he was outside he would attack the door. When we found out about baby number
two we knew something had to happen. Teddy could not live behind a gate. I
hated who I was with him, always shushing him, or locking him up. We tried
several things, even giving him to another couple. This did not work out
either. I think a lot, and I like to find solutions that work best for everyone,
and I tried so hard in this case, but I knew there were no safe options within
my home with my children. There would always be a risk, always. I felt odd
telling Isla to watch out when she would walk towards the dog gate or when she
would get down from the couch and Teddy was in the room. He was something she
had to fear, and no child should have anything or anyone in their home they
have to fear. I believe this more than anything.

This last week I struggled with how I would do this. I had
to, I would, but how? I’m great at repressing things, but those things in life
normally happened to me, not me taking action to do them. This was different.
Teddy was such a huge part of my life, beyond what I can explain to anyone. I
am guilty of not loving him enough these last years, and feeling frustrated,
and angry towards him. I could have never imagined this before. I feared something
happening to him. I honestly looked up if GPS chips or tags existed for dogs
because losing him would have been so awful. Travis told me over the years that
I had an irrational mindset of how long Teddy would live. I searched forever
trying to find a place to keep him during my wedding and honeymoon. I left him
at a place with camera I could log into, a tv playing animal planet in his
kennel, and made sure he got a space where he could access the outside. I
remember crying like a baby leaving him there and logging in to see him during
the trip. So, how did I get here? It must be maternal instinct, there is no
other way it could have happened. You think you could never put your dog
second, that they will stay right up there in the number one spot with your
children, but it doesn’t happen. I felt somewhat strong until Tuesday, knowing
what would happen the next day. I want to protect the child in my belly and not
get too upset, and I thought somehow I could block it out and just deal. I
would do it, just deal. Wednesday I kept myself busy. Travis took off work, we
played with Isla and the dogs outside, and I cleaned out under my bathroom sink.
I’ve been trying to rest, but it couldn’t happen Wednesday. It happened, and he
is gone. I have repeated to myself that it was the right thing to do. I had our
incredibly kind veterinarian come to the house to make it easier on him and us.
She explained that he would know nothing but our love, and this is true, but it
has lacked over the years, and I could have done better. I did love him. He
will always be incredibly special to me. I stayed mostly strong until Wednesday
night when I had nothing to distract me other than the baby moving in my belly.
I lost it. I’m losing it now, and I’m scared I won’t find peace. Yes, I was
protecting my children, and time will likely heal, but this feeling of cutting his
life short, probably in half, is awful, because he loved life.  I keep thinking there is something else I
could have done, or maybe this was simply wrong. I somehow justified it until
this point, but those thoughts are clouded by sadness and memories, and the
feeling of doing what I feared most happening for so many years. I’m absolutely
heartbroken. I don’t want sympathy, I know it will become bearable, but it’s
awful right now. At first I thought I would write and share this for anyone
going through the same thing, like it could provide support or comfort. Maybe
it could provide a place to not feel alone, but the comfort part is reaching. I
have always written when feeling sad or angry. I’m not one to reach out really,
so this is my sharing and healing. If you’re a praying person, I ask for
prayers. If you’re a friend, I ask for distractions. I pray for friends and
family all the time. I believe it works, and I believe it can be comforting
knowing people are praying for you, but there are some things that simply suck
and this is one of them. There will always be pain associated with it, but I
must be okay, I must move on to this next chapter without the pain I currently
feel in my chest. Thank you everyone for reading and for those who have reached
out.

 

My Baby Girl Turns 1 Today

My little baby was born one year ago today. It is 12:30 & my water broke around 1 AM. She was born around 4PM after long hours of back labor. What else in life can we go through that is so uncomfortable but we willingly do it again? The gift I was given that day is unbelievable. There is no way to measure the love I have for the precious girl I laugh and smile with daily. My husband and I have walked around like zombies over the past year, freaked out over ridiculous things, claimed multiple times that there is no way we could handle another baby, but we wouldn’t trade the past year for anything, not even sleep. We have spent the past year and more having conversation after conversation about medicines, birth, vaccines, midwives, doulas, Strep B, mainstream people, blood, pediatricians, needles, Hypnobabies, my inability to relax, hippies, SIDS, my husband’s inability to function like a normal person when hungry or tired, what would happen to Isla if we both passed away, baby clothes, diapers, doggy bootcamp, diaper cream, and probably about a million other things. We spent a million hours going through research online and reading books about pregnancy, birth, and babies. We made decisions for our family and armed ourselves for the questions from those who love us and those who only believe in the masses.

Isla went from crying all the time to laughing and running away from me when she’s doing something she shouldn’t. I turn my face and laugh realizing that I may suck a little with discipline. She has learned to wave and say hi and bye. She says thank you and hands you objects when you hold out your hand. The best trick, like we have trained her like an animal, is giving kisses. If you know me well, you can assume this is my favorite moment in life every time. 

The next few years could bring anything, it is not in my control, but my goal is to raise the happiest little girl. She should learn how her life is wonderful and filled with so much love. Her curiosities will teach her about the world while our efforts ensure that she only learns a peaceful one. My husband and I just watched the video of Isla asleep the day she was born. We had no idea, simply could not comprehend at the time, how much light and love she would bring into our lives. Nothing has ever felt so genuine or pure. 

Happy Breastfeeding Week!

Time has flown by these past couple of months. My baby suddenly turned into a crawling machine. I spend most days chasing her around the house, picking up any piece anything so she won't eat it, and laughing at her hilarious personality. It's funny, I thought as Isla grew older I would find more time. But she plays independently, right? She does, but she's everywhere and loves attention. I can't complain, I love giving her attention.

It's World Breastfeeding Week! I can't think of a better reason to celebrate. Women can celebrate their ability to make milk. It's kind of a superpower. That along with making a human. Women can also celebrate their breastfeeding journey & feel proud for what they have accomplished.

Isla latched on directly after birth like a pro. I remember her little body curled up against mine and she was rooting instinctively. It was strange, ya know? You think of animals, fuzzy ones, doing things instinctively, not humans. She did what most every baby does, she ate, she fell asleep while eating. I did what most first time moms do…I stressed and thought she was going to starve. I put cold clothes on her feet, rubbed her cheek, tickled her belly, anything just to try to wake her. It was different, this little bitty person depended on me for nourishment. We did not have formula, I refused to buy it, and I knew it would be difficult, but I'm not sure I knew exactly why. We read books, I read blogs, and in the moment I forgot everything.

Two weeks out or so, I called my doula. I asked questions like:

When will she stop nursing so much, like every hour and when will I sleep? When will I walk comfortably? When will this get better? My boobs are like boulders, they hurt, should I pump it all out? Why is the milk yellow? What's that layer? OMG, her poop is green! OMG, her poop is orange!

My boobs were huge. They were hard, and I'm pretty sure they were past the normal AA-DD scale for some time there in the beginning. Not only that, my nipples changed, that was weird. Why don't they tell you your nipples change in the books? It's something I would like to know ahead of time & it is something I would rather not ask someone. When will my nipples go back? No thanks.

Breastfeeding is a superpower. If you deny that then you have never breastfed. A friend of mine recently posted that she has been breastfeeding for over 60 months. Seriously, that's awesome. I would personally like a break between children, but she's a much more determined person than myself. It is a lot of responsibility nursing a little one. I'm constantly watching what I eat and eating all the time. They suck it out of you & if you haven't eaten enough it becomes obvious very quickly. The body of a nursing mom is working all the time, using energy to make this white gold. I'm on a time limit when I am away. There is about a 3 hour window between her feedings. If she has pumped milk I give myself a few more hours and then I can pump, but then there is the timing issue. Will she eat in 2 hours or did she not get enough pumped milk and want to eat in one? How much should I pump? I feel a sense of guilt when I'm away. I know she loves nursing and I also know it's best for my supply if she does nurse. These are not negative things, not by any means. These are all wonderful things. They sound difficult but what feels so good cannot feel all that difficult.

Nursing my daughter is the most wonderful experience I have ever had. She is almost 12 months and I plan to continue until we are both ready to stop. Not only is it best for her, but it's best for me. She nurses to sleep and I tear up almost every night watching her. I want to nurse my baby to sleep. Yes, she demands it and rarely falls sleep without nursing, but that is a blessing. I am her comfort, she is my high. I always know when she's tired because she pulls her hair, and I know when she is not tired because she will tap me on the chest or pinch my neck. It is a bond like no other. My husband thinks I am a weirdo for some of the things I say about nursing or do while she nurses. I make him watch when something is funny or cute. He sometimes agrees and sometimes gives me an odd look. He will never understand and I love that about it. Not that he doesn't get to feel it, but because it is natural and personal, this bond that we have.

So happy breastfeeding week to all the other mommas out there! And happy feeding week to all those who cannot breastfeed. We are all doing the best we can & what we know is best for our babes.

Isla's Birth Story

Some of the language in here may be different than you are used to. We took a Hypnobabies class, which teaches connotations associated with certain words. I use phrases like "birthing time" and "pressure waves." In mainstream terms, that is labor and contractions. :)

It was August 20th 2012, I was almost a week past my "due date." Nothing felt comfortable at this point. The bathroom was my second home. I started counting how many times I would pee before flushing the toilet out of guilt for personally draining the Tennessee River. Travis and I went to my best friend's  house for dinner that night. The plan was to eat and walk around the park in the front of her house. We all had a common goal of getting this baby out. I walked & sat on one of those springy animals that moves in all directions when you put your weight to one side. You know the ones where you put your feet on the side and bounce around? Yeah, pretty ridiculous looking for an extremely pregnant woman, and it probably wasn't all that safe either. Ashley (my friend) was determined to help get things started. Before leaving her house, she rubbed Do Terra oregano essential oil on my ankle. Oregano oil can help induce labor. 

At home, I decided to bounce on an exercise ball before bed. I could feel Isla's head pushing against my pubic bone during the last month of pregnancy. I thought maybe if I bounced enough her head would hit just right and break my water. This is not medically accurate, but picturing it brought hope. I tried to think differently though, on purpose, that I would go around 42 weeks.

I got up from not sleeping around 1 a.m. that night & felt this strange POP while peeing, and the water was not stopping. It truly felt like a water balloon had just popped. I yelled for Travis, and actually got up to yell at him, but quickly realized this was not a smart idea. I saw light pink & mucus  in the water so I knew something was up. I called my doula with the news, and asked some questions about what I was seeing. She told me to stand on the tile floor and see if it puddled (just to make sure it was my water). It puddled. I  was not having pressure waves at all at this point. She said this was unusual, usually women have pressure waves before their water breaks. I had not noticed anything. About twenty minutes later, after dragging out my bags, and claiming I was going to go back to sleep, everything started, and when it started, it STARTED. The fluid kept leaking, and that cushion was no longer present. Travis was on the phone with our doula while I was working through the pressure. It became intense rather quickly. We put the exercise ball in the shower with the warm water hitting my lower back. The pressure was mostly in my back, I had what people refer to as back labor. This happens depending on the position of the baby.The warm water was the best relief, and the pressure waves were not letting up long enough to walk around or carry on conversation. Travis remembered to hand me water or watermelon between waves to stay hydrated. We learned this from Hypnobabies class :). 

When everything started. I found leaning over the ball to help.

In the shower on the exercise ball. I would suggest putting a towel on the forehead in this position. The warm water helped the pressure, especially in the back. This is a great position when having back labor. 

The doula arrived at the house, I do not remember when, and brought reassurance that everything was going well. My doula, the one I had been talking to throughout my pregnancy, was attending another birth. I did not know who she sent over, and this made me very nervous. I thought surely my doula would come soon, no one told me any different. I had anxiety at this point, my doula knew everything I wanted, my fears, my desires, and the other hundred things I had discussed with her. She was a midwife as well so I felt comfortable knowing she had delivered a lot of babies. I am an organized person, calling her as soon as I found out I was pregnant. I knew I needed the guidance. Birth had always scared me. I wanted children, but I had something huge knew I would need help first. The thought brought anxiety, wanting children, a family, but knowing I would have to face a fear I had been dealing with practically my whole life. I will discuss more of this in another post, but I will give it to you in short:

Since around 5 years old, because of a traumatic event, I developed hemophobia. This is basically a fear of blood. It started out where I would pass out when seeing blood, then escalated into a needle phobia as well, and then intensified to where I would pass out when discussing blood. You have no idea how much this changes life until you have the issue. It is a problem, a big one, that influenced a lot of decisions and experiences in life. I have tried dealing with it several times, but nothing ever worked. My doula advised going to a hypnobabies class to learn to relax, and put myself in a type of self-hypnosis. I was wary, as I am always doubtful of anything taking over my mind, but was willing, as this was the biggest fear I had when it came to birth. So, with that said, my doula knew all of these details. She knew I was refusing an IV or hep-lock at the hospital, and she knew I was willing to fight for it. She knew that I did not want medicine, wanted to hold my baby as long as desired after birth, did not want her vaccinated with Hep-B, given vitamin k, or erythromycin (eye ointment). She knew I wanted to show up to the hospital as late as possible to avoid antibiotics for Step-B. This doula, as far as I knew, did not know any of this, and that terrified me. My doula knew my birth plan, my midwife, my back-up OB, what to do if I did pass out, and I felt comfortable with her personality. I trusted her to help guide me through the process. My husband was there, and he knew all of this too, but my doula was there to guide me in ways he could not. She knew what positions worked for what purpose. I was counting on that, I was prepared for that, but I was not prepared for someone else. I never once thought during my pregnancy about someone else attending the birth.

I still sometimes think about how this impacted my birthing experience. You learn, probably in most any birthing class, that things do not always go as expected. I understood that, but did not prepare myself for a different support system, nor did I think about how much it would impact my birthing experience. It was not my doula's fault, and after hearing about her situation that day, at the other birth, I felt guilty for wishing so badly that she could have been there. I did learn that having a supportive birth team is extremely important. Those people need to match your personality, and understand your desires. Next time, I will prepare myself for a change in support team. I now know that I am not the type of person who deals with surprises or change gracefully. 

Trying to get dressed to leave for the hospital. 

To continue on, I knew I was getting close around 7am. It felt like the way I had heard transition described. The doula checked dilation externally during a pressure wave. She thought I was around 8cm dilated.We arrived at the hospital around 8am. I do not remember walking in, but I remember falling to my knees in the elevator during a pressure wave. We arrived at the birthing center at Erlanger East. I was not ready to fight, although in my head I kept thinking that I may have to. I knew these nurses were used to passiveness, more mainstream people, and following their protocol. I also knew that this was my birth, and I had every right to make the decisions for my experience. They were here for the small chance of an emergency, that's all. The rest of this is all kind of a blur. I am actually going off of what Travis told me happened once in the triage room. I do remember the nurse asking to check me. I said no. She claimed she had to check to see if I was in labor in order to get a room. Huh? Seriously? I said something along the lines of, "are you kidding me, I am obviously in labor, and you are lying, I need a room." They issued a nurse, and my lovely nurse made a point to tell me on the way to the room that she had 5 babies naturally (I think they did this on purpose, I'm glad they did), and I told her I did not want an IV or a hep-lock. She said that I may have an issue with that, but I told her to give me whatever papers I needed to sign, and I never heard anything about it again. Whew! I stripped down again, and took my exercise ball into the shower. My midwife arrived and sat with me in the bathroom. I clung to her and her student midwife, they were familiar, I knew them, and for the most part, my midwife knew what I wanted. I soon started pushing.

Just born! The nurses were supportive of bonding time.

I arrived at the hospital 9cm dilated, and Isla was born at 4pm. My body was tense, she would not pass the pubic bone. I remember pushing for what seemed like forever, and I also remember looking at the clock, not to check the time, but I realized  everything was getting blurry. I had been awake for almost 2 days. Tiredness kicked in, my body was exhausted, and I could no longer clearly hear the people around me. I looked to the student midwife, and felt like she understood, like she was the only one who understood. The nurse was telling me to continue pushing, and I did, but discouragement set in. I had come this far, pushed for eight hours, and there was no way I was getting a cesarian. She had to come out, and she eventually did. I ended up having a forceps birth. She was not passing the pubic bone. I blame this partly on position, exhaustion, and my tense body. I tried to remember what positions work best to guide baby down, so I leaned over the back of the bed with my knees on the bed and arms over the raised part of the bed. This did not work, or maybe I did not do it long enough. At this point it was difficult to think for myself. Travis was out of it, tired, in shock, not sure, but he was not saying much. I was not sure what to do, I couldn't think, and I felt very unsupported at this point. 

Such an amazing experience. 

Daddy's finger

Daddy's hand

6 lbs 13 oz

My OB, Dr. Seeber, was incredible. He knew to let the cord pulse, and he didn't have Travis cut it for a long time. She was still attached the whole time he was doing repair. This may have been around 30 minutes or more, not sure, but there was no rush, I appreciated that. Isla latched on like a pro. She nursed until she was content. The nurses didn't give me much of a problem with refusing the vaccine or vitamin k. I had oral vitamin k with me, which we administered ourselves. I signed some papers, answered some question, that was it. 

I could have had her without forceps, but it happened the way it happened. I also didn't have the Hypnobabies birth I wanted to have, but it was my first, I got through it naturally, and she was born a healthy, beautiful baby girl. I held her for a long time. She was perfect, with a head of hair like her mommy. I was incredibly in love, and Travis was beyond amazed at our little baby girl resting her head on my chest. I say she was healthy, and people may think that is all that matters, and I am beyond thankful for her health, but a woman's birth experience matters. It can be a struggle, it can bring a lot of mixed emotions, and can repeat itself a million times after the birth. Call it post-partum depression, or call it PTSD...not sure if it needs a label because I think it's different for every woman. Our country needs to start taking care of women better after they have children. There is not enough support post-partum. This is something we all need to strive towards and demand as women.

I came to find out later that my midwife, who I believe to be naturally minded, had acted in frustration when leaving the room. My best friend saw it, and told me she even mentioned prepping for a cesarian. At one point during the birth I remember her checking her phone, telling the student midwife to text her husband something about soccer equipment, she sounded frustrated. This was not like my midwife. She was on my side throughout the pregnancy, for the most part. One of her babies was a home birth, I knew she was aware of how important the birth experience is to a woman. Her behavior during this time still confuses me. A midwife or OB working in a practice may feel rushed because they have appointments waiting at the office. Since I was fully dilated for so long, she was with me all day. This is rushed feeling is a problem, and I see the benefit of having a midwife outside of a busy practice to avoid this. She is normally an awesome woman to work with, though, and I would not hesitate to use her again if I had a hospital birth. 

PEACE

I would like to add something to my birth story simply because it impacted my experience. I debated having a home birth, but I wanted to have my first in the hospital. But, the nurses at Erlanger East deserve some recognition, at least some of them. My delivery nurse, Gale, was so surprisingly supportive. We had conversations about natural birth after Isla was born. She was wonderful. My night nurse, Shannon, was beyond comforting. She had a nice demeanor about her. These women are awesome. I probably will not have another baby there, just because I want a more natural setting, and would not birth without a tub next time, but I must give those nurses some recognition for their respect and encouragement. It was the last thing I expected. And I even forgot to bake them an unhealthy snack :).

I plan on explaining our choices for Isla in another post. I believe it is important for new parents to educate themselves from the start about birth and newborn practices. This is the time when you become a parent. From this point, you make choices for the health of your child. These choices matter. It's important to be wise and mindful when making these decisions. This baby is an individual, he or she has to live with the decisions you make for them - some of them, for life. I do understand, not everyone is the same, and not everyone has the same mindset. Some people believe in vaccinations, some are strongly against, some are just wary. Some people are meant to have a home birth, some are not, and some should go natural, and some should not. People believe strongly in different areas, I absolutely respect that. I do not respect, though, making decisions for another life because it is easy, or because you were told it is the right way. I respect those who make decisions after determining the reasons why they are making it, after researching all sides of the issue. I am not here to judge, but I would like to help educate on these matters. We can all become more mindful of the choices we make. 

She was upset during her bath until having her hair brushed

Leaving the hospital

I'll post soon about postpartum recovery, newborn practices, & my experience dealing with hemophobia during pregnancy and birth.