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A Birth Story – Lass’s Arrival

Posted on by Amy
I know that I always like to hear about other people’s experiences in the childbirth process. Here is the story of Lass’s birth:On Monday, August 23 I started having strong regular contractions at around 5:30 pm.I began timing them at about 6 while we were eating dinner on the deck.I knew the contractions felt strong and different from those I had had previously (I had to stop and breathe through them as they got stronger) and was pretty sure labor had started.I gave Miss a bath and put her to bed.When the contractions continued to get stronger during this time, I told my hubby to get our things in the car, I called our babysitter and the on-call nurse, and we left for the hospital.

When we got to the hospital, I was monitored for a bit to make sure I was really in labor and we finally got into our room around 9:30 pm. Here I am in the triage room still:

In our room at about 11 pm:

We got a big yoga ball and I sat on that for a little while and then we went out to walk around the hallways. My contractions were definitely stronger and closer together when we walked the halls, but I was more comfortable when I was sitting on the ball, so we alternated these two things for a while. When I had a contraction, I faced my hubby and put my hands around his neck and kind of “danced” with him and breathed through the contraction. After a while I tried lying on my side and trying to get some rest, as it was getting really late and I was very tired. I continued to alternate resting and walking for a few hours. Then I got into the tub for about an hour and a half or so in the very early morning.
The nurse said that the on-call doctor would probably want to break my water around 7 or so in the morning to get things moving, so at that point I decided to try to stay in bed and get as much rest as possible for the last few hours, since I figured I would not get much rest after my water was broken.  Through all of this, my hubby was great, reminding me to breathe slowly through the contractions and relax.
Some time in the wee hours of the morning:

 

The on call doctor came in and broke my water at about 7:30 am (I think). At that point I was only 4 cm dilated. Of course, once my water was broken my contractions became much stronger. My hubby really had to help me get through them at this point. I got back into the tub for a while and sat on the ball some more.

I started to feel a little unsure that I would be able to continue without pain relief.I think I said to my hubby a few times something like, “I don’t think I can do this.” He continually encouraged me and told me that I could do it. It was probably around 10 am when the nurse offered to check my cervix to see how far I had progressed. We agreed, hoping I had made progress and it would help me to feel more certain that I could proceed without medication. When the nurse checked me she said I was almost 7 cm, which really helped me to get my “second wind” and I again felt certain I could do it.

A while later the nurse checked me again and said I was 8, almost 9 cm, with just a bit of cervix left. Around that time I started really feeling the urge to push with each contraction, though I couldn’t push because I wasn’t completely dilated. The nurse suggested I try getting on my hands and knees or lying in the “recovery position” (on my side with top leg forward) to help get my cervix to dilate the rest of the way. The “recovery position” was very uncomfortable and made my contractions more painful, so I spent quite a while on my hands and knees.

I was so tired I almost dozed off and face-planted several times while in that position. The urge to push continued to get stronger, and I would say this was the worst part of my labor, needing to push but not being able to. I think this went on for at least 45 minutes or so. The nurse checked my cervix a couple of times with minimal change.

Finally she said she could check with the doctor about whether she could stretch my cervix enough to allow me to push, and she called the on-call doctor (my doc was on vacation). The on call doc happened to be the doctor I had seen the previous day for my appointment, so I was familiar with her, which was nice. She came in and said that she would be able to stretch my cervix enough that I could start to push, so I did. It took a few tries to get into the right position and push the right way, but I got it pretty quickly and seemed to be making good progress.

I got great feedback from the doctor and from my hubby that I was doing a great job, which really helped. I was so tired I was dozing off in between contractions. I pushed for about an hour and a half, according to my hubby, though it didn’t really seem that long to me (maybe because I was sleeping between contractions??). Finally:

 

As soon as she was born, the doctor placed Lass on my chest, which was amazing. It was the best feeling ever. Unfortunately, she was not breathing very well right away and she wasn’t really crying, so I didn’t get to hold her for long, but the few moments I did were the best.

They had to take her and do lots of suctioning to help improve her color and get her breathing better. She did start to look better pretty quickly and she started crying more, which was good.

Man, she looks huge in these photos.

They ended up needing to take her to the nursery for monitoring for a few hours, but she turned out to be just fine and was back in the room with us after about two hours.

I’ve written a dissertation and earned a PhD. I’ve written a book. I’ve worked in various prisons with dangerous criminals. I have trained for and run two marathons. Going through 20 hours of labor and giving birth to a nearly 10 and a half pound baby without any pain medication was by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I could not have done it without the help of my husband. No way. It was an incredible experience to go through with him, and I am so glad I got the opportunity have that and that our girl was healthy and perfect.

Juggling

Posted on by Amy
All things considered, I have found that the second baby is way easier than the first baby. I know part of this is because Lass really is just an easy baby. She sleeps well, she eats well, she rarely cries. But Miss was a pretty easy baby too compared to the stories I had heard from some moms I know. So I know that part of the reason Lass is so easy is because of me. I’m different. I’m more confident. I kind of feel like I know what I’m doing this time around. Things don’t freak me out as much as they did the first time I did all this. I don’t keep an obsessive journal of every feeding, complete with how long Lass nurses on each side, when I pump (heck, I haven’t even pumped an ounce this time around yet!), and when she pees and poops. I know part of this is because Lass did not have issues with her weight gain, and though she lost a little bit of weight in the hospital, it wasn’t much, and she was well over her birth weight by her two-week appointment. Miss on the other hand had lost a considerable amount of weight in the hospital and we had to go for weekly weight checks until she surpassed her birth weight, which I think took three or four weeks for her to do. But also, I’m less nervous about breastfeeding in general this time. Last time I was scared to death that I wouldn’t have enough milk, or my “supply” would run out, or Miss wouldn’t learn to latch or would refuse to nurse or whatever. This time I wasn’t nervous. I knew that I had successfully nursed Miss for 14 months and could do it again. I knew my boobs could produce, so I didn’t worry. In general, I really just worry less this time around.
So like I said, baby #2 is much easier than baby #1. What I do sometimes worry about this time around is Miss. I worry that she will feel that I’m not paying enough attention to her or that somehow she’ll feel left out. I’ve found that the big trick to taking good care of two very small children and maintaining your sanity is juggling. Keeping the balls in the air. Coordination. Etcetera.
I’ve gotten pretty good at juggling. I’m able to do many more things at one time than I ever thought possible. Sometimes it’s just small things to juggle, like holding Lass to nurse with one arm while using the other hand to help Miss put on her Daddy’s coat, which she very much wanted to model for us.



Or bouncing a fussy Lass in my BabyEtte wrap outside so that Miss could blow off some steam in the yard.


And then there are the times when you can’t help but drop a ball. Or two. The other night was one of those times. Picture this. My hubby was at a meeting. It was dinner time for Miss. I was planning ahead. Realized that Lass would be hungry right about the time that I would usually give Miss her bath and put her to bed. I’m flexible. Loose. I decide Miss can stay up a bit later while I feed Lass. Then I’ll do the bath and bed routine with Miss. No biggie.
Well, just around the time I make this plan, as Miss is happily eating her dinner, she toots and says, “Biiig Poop!” (which kind of sounds like “Beee pup!” when she says it). And I reply, “No Honey, I think you just tooted. Say ‘Excuse me’ please.” Not 30 seconds later I hear what sounds like an actual “big poop,” and sure enough she says again “Beeee pup!” So I know I have to revise my plan. Because I can’t let Miss sit in a poopy diaper while I feed Lass. But it seems stupid to change Miss’s diaper only to put her in the tub 20-30 minutes later. So I roll with it and decide I can put Miss in the tub and let her play while I nurse Lass. Juggling, juggling.
Dinner is done. I take the girls upstairs. Miss hadn’t really pooped much at all, but I went ahead with the plan. Cleaned her up, put her in the tub, and positioned myself on the stool by the side of the tub where I proceed to nurse Lass. This is not comfortable, but I’m keeping the balls in the air, and all is well. Until it’s not. I hear the toot. See the bubbles. Miss says again, “Beee pup!” And I’m thinking, “Please, please, please let this only be a toot.” But then Miss gets her “I’m pooping” look and sure enough, she poops in the tub.
Balls dropping. I have a moment of panic. Then Miss sees the poop and proceeds to completely. freak. out. She scuttles away from the poop, stands up and starts screaming at the top of her lungs, reaching for me and trying to climb out of the tub. So I have Lass latched onto my boob, and Miss clutched onto my arm screaming, and poop in the tub, and I do the only thing a Mom can do in this situation. I start cracking up laughing. Because really, what else is there to do in that moment? But the laughter only lasted for a second, since I did have a terrified toddler trying to claw her way up my arm and out of the tub. So I quickly gathered my senses, spoke soothingly to Miss while unlatching Lass (who fortunately had eaten enough to be temporarily content) and putting her in her bouncy seat right by the bathroom door (I had already placed it there in preparation for putting her in it when she got done eating), got all the poop out of the tub and cleaned up, and proceeded to finish Miss’s bath with fresh water in a clean tub.  Whew.
I think I’m getting pretty good at juggling a newborn and a toddler. I can handle two under two. And I’ve learned that even when I inevitably “drop the ball” once in a while, it’s not too much of a big deal as long as I can just pick it back up and get back in the swing of it. And after the Poop-In-The-Tub Incident, as this will ever be remembered, I think I can handle just about anything.

The girl can dance

Posted on by Amy
I love wedding receptions. There is no better place to let loose and dance yourself silly. Where else do you get to hear such a variety of songs, all just perfect for dancing? You can do the “Twist,” throw your head back and sing loudly to “Paradise by the Dashboard Lights,” shake your booty and rap all the words to “Ice Ice Baby,” slow dance to any number of great love songs, seemingly always played two at a time, and do all sorts of line dances. Songs like “Love Shack,” “Groove is in the Heart,” “Takin’ Care of Business,” “Shout!” and so many others just beg to be danced to. It helps that at all of the weddings in my husband’s family, he and/or his brother and/or cousin(s) play DJ or jam out as the band (they were the band at our wedding) and always have an uncanny sense of how to keep a party rocking.
We went to a wedding this weekend for one of my hubby’s cousins, and this one did not disappoint. In fact, it was especially fun because not only did I get to dance and enjoy the music, but I got to watch Miss have her first taste of the wedding reception dance floor. It took her a little while to warm up, but once she did it was just fantastic to watch her.
At first she didn’t want to get down on the floor. She was very puzzled by all the dancing people around her and just wanted to observe what was going on. She danced with Momma.



She danced with Daddy.

Then she got down on the floor, but was still a bit reserved. She just hung around close to my legs and continued to watch for a bit.

She watched the big boys getting down.
We did the “Hokey Pokey.”

And finally she started warming up.

Started to feel the groove.

And finally, pure dancing joy.
She had so much fun. She loved the music. She loved watching the dancing. She loved doing the dancing. And by the end of the night she was so tired she was just running all over the dance floor, I think to keep herself from falling down and passing out in exhaustion. It was a blast. It is so amazing to me every day to watch her do and experience new things. And P.S., my girl’s got some killer moves!

Burritos, Boobs, and Bundling Up

Posted on by Amy

Well, there are three things I thought of blogging about tonight. Usually I would pick one and save the others for later, but then I never get back to them, and I thought “why not?” just do a post about all three things? So, here it is.

Burritos. I crave burritos. Or really any Mexican-type food able to be wrapped in an 8-inch flour tortilla and served with sour cream and a taco-type sauce. I need help. My poor husband has eaten every variation on this food theme that I can think of. Taco Bell (I think I only sent him out for this once this pregnancy), regular burritos with ground venison I seasoned with my own special blend of spices (I think we’ve had this three or four times already, don’t judge), chicken enchiladas, chicken fajitas (another three or four times??), breakfast burritos for dinner (this was an act of desperation to be creative), and tonight I made my old standby, baked chicken burritos, again made with my special seasoning. I feel bad, but this is what I am really wanting to eat. For several weeks in my first trimester, this was the only thing that sounded remotely appetizing. But how many times can a man be expected to eat such food during the course of a pregnancy? As it is, we’re on track to have such culinary fare about 60 times before Baby arrives. So, I need some new recipe suggestions. Anyone have one? Or 10???

Boobs. Miss is in the process of weaning. I thought I was very ready for this. I am ready for this. Mostly. She’s ready for this, as you’ll see below. I know it’s the right time to start this process. The reason I bring this up today, is that today was the first day that Miss did not nurse during the day at all. See, she has been down to four nursing sessions per day for many months, first thing when she wakes up, late morning after her nap, mid afternoon after her second nap, and bed time. We dropped the afternoon nursing right when we got back from Hawaii. Today we dropped the late morning nursing. I got her up from her morning nap, changed her, and brought her downstairs to give her milk out of a sippy cup. She also had a cup of yogurt, which I helped her to spoon into her own mouth, for pete’s sake (where did my little baby go?). Man, it’s making me teary again to type it. “Why?” you might ask, considering that I’m still nursing her in the morning and at bed time. We’re only halfway done with the weaning. The daytime nursing sessions weren’t even my favorite ones. But they were different from the morning and bedtime nursing in that she was awake and kind of silly during them. She’d play with her toes, put her foot on my shoulder or sometimes in my face, look up at me and give me a big grin. The morning and bed time nursing times are just different, and now I don’t have the daytime anymore, so I’m a little sad. And you know what? While I’m getting all sad and teary about it, she didn’t even seem to notice anything was different! Which is actually a good thing I know, and confirms for me that this is the right time to make this change. So it’s all good. To try to celebrate this milestone, I made her a smoothie for the second snack of the day.
She tried it.
Seemed to like it.
But then I think she got “brain freeze” and she wouldn’t drink anymore!
Bundling up. If I were to get a grade for how well I have embraced winter since we moved back to a cold climate, it would be an “F.” I just don’t really love winter. I don’t love cold. There are things I do like about winter, like a roaring fire and drinking hot chocolate. Watching Duke basketball. Christmas. The first few days of fresh beautiful snow that sticks to the trees and makes everything gorgeous outside. As long as I get to look at it from inside. You know, with the roaring fire and hot chocolate. Last winter I was enormously pregnant, and then Miss was definitely too little to go out in the snow when she arrived, so I was off the hook. This winter, I did not buy her a snow suit. She wasn’t walking yet, and I did not think it would be fun for her to go out in the snow and crawl. I thought she was still too little.
But now she’s walking. And in the past few days I’ve been thinking, “This is the only year she’ll be little like this in the winter.” It just didn’t seem right to not let her experience the snow at least a little. Miss has a winter coat that I intentionally bought too big so I could fit lots of layers of clothing under it if necessary. But we still didn’t have a snow suit or snow pants. I debated going and buying her a pair, but that just seemed so wasteful, since they surely won’t fit her next year, and she probably wouldn’t wear them more than a handful of times this year. Yet I was determined to get her in the snow and keep her warm and dry. And today was a beautiful, sunny, relatively warm day and I just decided to do it. So here is what I came up with to solve the no-snow-pants problem. Watch as the layers go on:
This sweater is layer #3 on top already.
Yes, those are plastic Target bags on her legs.
And a garbage bag to top it all off and provide a double layer of protection.
This is her, “Mom, seriously??” look.
And the “pants” in action. She wasn’t very steady standing in the snow.
And she quickly ended up on her rear (this made a super cute butt print in the snow!)
She did okay for a while, and the pants worked perfectly.
Then things started to go downhill.
Fast.
So we went back inside where she had tons of fun playing with all the stuff we had both been bundled up in.
And even though we had only been outside for about a minute and a half, I still made hot, hearty vegetable soup for us for lunch so we could “warm up.” That’s one of the other things I love about winter 🙂

Fly on the Wall

Posted on by Amy

We had painters here on Thursday, and I became aware as I was going about my daily routine with Miss that these men were probably getting a good laugh at my expense. It made me think about what I, and other moms, would look like to the proverbial Fly on the wall while caring for our babies. I tend to talk to Miss, and often to myself, all day long. It’s a running commentary on what is happening, what I’m doing, what she’s doing, what should I do?, etc (it was as I was in the midst of some conversation with Miss, or rather with myself, that I heard one of the painters chuckle to himself and thus became self-conscious and the thought process that sparked this whole post began). I think probably most moms do this. It’s probably a very important part of language development for babies to hear their caregivers speak a great deal. However, I still probably sound kind of goofy to a stranger observing me while doing it – the noises and faces while trying to get her to eat, the funny voices while reading her a story, and any number of other goofy things I do all day long for the purpose of entertaining and teaching my daughter.

The other day I was in the grocery store and had two funny things happen. One thing is that I was walking round with Miss in her Ergo carrier and I heard another baby making some noises and his mom echoing those noises right back as she was browsing the grocery aisle. I smiled to myself because it was a sweet thing to see but also because I hadn’t noticed until that moment that I was doing the exact same thing with Miss. Different noises of course, but the same mimicking. A few moments later in a different aisle I was approached by a store employee who said something like, “When I first saw you there in the aisle out of the corner of my eye I didn’t realize you were holding a baby and I thought, ‘Wow, she must be really cheerful!'” She was referring to the fact that I was continuously bouncing up and down with Miss. She thought I was just bopping along to my own beat, until she realized that I was holding my baby. Then she understood, being a mom herself, and she reminisced to me for a moment about her own days of mothering when her children were babies. It’s amazing how strangers can connect briefly because of having mothering in common.
One other thing that I think would have the Fly laughing at me. Diaper changes in our house have come to resemble a WWF match. We went through a phase of wrestling to get a diaper on for a bit a few months ago, and then it seemed to stop. Miss had returned to just lying peacefully and looking up at me, chattering and smiling while I did the business of changing her drawers. I thought I had managed to breeze through the diapering struggles that I hear many other moms talk about. Don’t laugh at me. I now know that Miss was just faking me out. Giving me a temporary reprieve. Letting me get comfortable and complacent for a bit before unleashing again the fury of the baby who does not want to be still while her diaper is changed. No matter that she has poo smeared all over her rear and I am trying valiantly to hold her still while preventing it from getting all over her back, her changing table, her feet, the wall. I have found myself doing the most ridiculous things to try to entertain her and keep her attention long enough to make the fastest change on earth. I make crazy faces. I make stupid sounds. Recently I have begun singing in an operatic voice any tune I can think up (mostly just “las” for the words though). I have hit some crazy high notes doing this, which my voice really wasn’t made for! She stops moving for a few seconds though. Long enough to laugh at me and for me to get those snaps fastened. If there were a Fly, I’m sure he would be laughing and/or shaking his head in wonder at the crazy lady. But I’d do just about anything for a smile or giggle from my Miss 🙂