Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Admiring the Centerpiece



My son Gabriel turned two a few days ago.  Last week, I discovered that he knows how to count to ten.  I was very proud and completely mortified at the same time.  After all, what kind of horrible mother doesn't know that her kid can count?  Even worse, he obviously didn't learn it from me!
When our oldest son Sammy turned two, he and I spent our days putting together puzzles, reading books, and doing all the other things perfect mothers of only children do.  I knew what milestones he was supposed to reach and how far in advance he accomplished them.  Now, my life is a little more hectic.  Okay, a lot more hectic.  I spend most of my days trying to keep my head above water in a sea of chaos and poopy diapers.  I don't spend the time with Gabriel that I did with Sammy, although I justify this to myself with the fact that Gabriel and Sammy have constant playmates in each other.  Gabriel is a pretty easy-going child, yet he is spirited, energetic, and such a boy.  To know him is to love him because he is so adorable and cute but tough and crazy at the same time.  I know I'm his mother and completely unobjective, but trust me, it's true.  His personality helps make my life easier in a lot of ways because he's not whiny or demanding, and he's happy playing by himself or following Sammy around the house.  However, I sometimes struggle to find a balance between fostering his independence and neglecting his need for special attention.  Because he is so easy-going, it's easy to cut corners with him.  I might put him to bed on a busy night without reading to him, for instance, because he doesn't need the choreographed, ritualized bedtime routine that Sammy requires.



A friend of mine refers to her middle child as her "centerpiece," and I have borrowed the term from her.  Since discovering that my poor child had to teach himself how to count, I'm now working on making sure that Gabriel is our family's centerpiece and not the type-cast, forgotten middle child that will spend his adulthood in therapy because of me.
I started by giving him credit for being such a good kid.  Gabriel deserves a lot of admiration in my opinion.  He went from being the baby of the family to a big brother a few months shy of his second birthday.  The week before our new baby arrived, he potty trained himself!  I thought he would certainly regress once the baby was born, but he didn't.  Instead, he has taken on his new role as big brother with huge amounts of pride and very little jealousy.  He is great with the baby, surprisingly gentle for a rough and tumble toddler.  He hasn't hurt him yet, whether on purpose or by accident.




I am also working on giving him more one-on-one attention and trying to make sure that the individual attention I give him is more positive than negative.  As most parents in the throes of the "terrible twos" can tell you, this can sometimes be a challenge.  Two year olds, at least in my experience, are all about testing limits and causing a ruckus, no matter how sweet they may be.  I'm pulling a trick out of my old teaching days here.  For every instance of negative attention I give him (ex: "Gabriel, stop hitting the dog!"), I am attempting to have three positive interactions (ex: "I like how you shared your toy.").
We're also putting him in a sports program at the YMCA that is for two year olds and their parents to participate in.  I figure that will give him a chance to both run off energy while getting me all to himself at the same time.
He might still end up in therapy in 30 years, but at least I can say I tried!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Caleb's Birth Story



My due date was Friday, November 19.  I figured Caleb would be a little early, but I wasn't in any big rush to be done with pregnancy.  We spent the last few weeks of my pregnancy making meals, making sure the house stayed pretty clean, and focusing on quality time out of the house with our two boys.  The weekend before I was due was a great one.  I went to yoga on Saturday, then on Sunday we walked around an outdoor mall.  When we got home, I took the boys to their room for a dance party (a pretty usual occurance at our house), but I just didn't feel like dancing.  Instead, I suddenly felt nauseated and feverish, and my lower back hurt.  When I mentioned this to Jesse, he reminded me of the fact that I had the exact symptoms the day before Gabriel was born.  The rest of Sunday (and Monday, actually), pretty much followed the same pattern as my labor with Gabriel.
That evening I continued to feel crappy.  We didn't have a working thermometer in the house, but I knew I was feverish.  I was restless all night, having contractions that were somewhat steady, but not painful.  I knew that we'd have to go into the hospital in the morning if I still felt feverish because a fever in a laboring mother can be bad news, but I didn't want to.  I wanted to labor at home!  I checked the baby's heartbeat with my stethescope (a carry-over from my pre-med days.  Pretty proud of myself for being able to still use it!), and it was a little higher than normal for labor and about 20 bpm higher than it had been at my last few appointments (around 162, and a normal fetal heart rate is between 120 and 160 during labor).  Jesse took one for the team and went to CVS to buy a thermometer around 4:30 in the morning.  Sure enough, I had a low-grade fever.
So we loaded up the van with all the birthing tools I would need later and packed up the boys to drop them off at the hospital's daycare (Jesse's brother would pick them up later).  I was a little anxious on the drive there.  I knew that I was at least 3 cm dilated from my last appointment, and I figured they wouldn't just check us and send us home, especially because of the Group B strep.  My midwife had warned me that natural birth at this hospital was not very common, and that they were pretty aggressive about watching the clock (meaning if you weren't progressing, they would want to begin interventions like Pitocin or rupturing membranes).  I was prepping myself to go into "assertive patient" mode because I was sure that even though I didn't feel like I was in labor, that we'd be staying.
Sure enough, I was 5 cm dilated, I had a mild fever, and the baby's heartrate was in the 170's.  Of course the regular contractions I had been having at home completely stopped the moment we walked through the doors of the hospital, but there was enough going on to keep me there.  This was at 9:00 am, and I told Jesse that we'd probably have a baby at 6:00 pm, because that's what time Gabriel was born.  So far, this was a deja vu morning.  We even checked into the hospital with Gabriel at 9:00 am!
When we got to the room, the nurse hooked me up to the fetal monitors and started an IV with antibiotics (for the Group B strep but also to combat whatever was causing the fever) and fluid (in case the fever was causing some dehydration).  I thought, "here we go, let the interventions begin."  But then she said something wonderful.  She said that she had looked at my birth plan and saw I wanted a natural birth.  So, as soon as the antibiotics were done, she'd remove the IV, leaving just the hep-lock, and she'd take off the fetal monitors.  I could have intermittent monitoring, meaning I'd have to be hooked up with the belts for 20 minutes out of every hour.  I didn't have to be in the bed for those 20 minutes, either, just close enough for the power cords to reach the machine.  An anesthesiologist would be by to discuss pain relief options, but I could just tell them I wasn't interested, and they'd leave me alone (actually, two anesthesiologists visited me, and were skeptical but impressed that I wasn't interested in their services).  This was music to my ears!
I was having occasional contractions, but they weren't painful.  When the antibiotics were finished, Jesse and I started walking the halls.  I started having regular contractions, but they weren't really strong at all. We did the same routine for another hour.  When I went back for my next 20 minutes of monitoring, I actually got into the bed, then ended up staying there for a couple of hours resting.  The contractions were a little uncomfortable at this point, but still not painful.  When I was checked around noon, I was still 5 cm, which didn't really surprise me.  I spent the next couple of hours walking, sitting on the birth ball, and sitting on the toilet.  Because it's best to get two doses of the antibiotics in my system before delivering the baby, I wasn't in a real rush to get things going, as I'd get my second round around 2:00.  When the OB resident on duty checked me again at 2:00, I was still 5 cm.  I was a little disappointed.  She offered to break my water for me, but I was hesitant.  I didn't want the 24-hour countdown to begin, which is usually as long as you'll be allowed to labor with ruptured membranes.  I also knew that the pain increases exponentially once the cushion of amniotic fluid is gone between the baby's head and my cervix.  At the same time, things weren't really progressing for that same reason.  I figured that in order for me to dilate any further, I'd have to have my membranes ruptured, but I just wasn't ready.  She was completely cool about it, and said she'd be back in a couple of hours to check me again.  This was great!  The staff was allowing me to make my own decisions about how this birth day would go, and I was very appreciative.  When she returned around 4:00 and I was still 5 cm, I was ready to get things moving and agreed to having my membranes ruptured.
She broke my water around 4:30, and about ten minutes later I had a contraction that definitely felt different.  They started coming more frequently and the intensity built with each one.  Within half an hour or so, the "birth noises" were back, and Jesse had to kick the back rub/pressure into high gear.  I was hoping things would move quickly as they had with Gabriel (I dilated from 6 cm to pushing in less than two hours).  However, Caleb took his time.  I was very relieved to find out that a midwife I knew came on duty at 7:00, but I was bummed to know that I'd still be in labor then.  The contractions were incredibly intense and pretty long, but I wasn't feeling any urges to push.  I could, however, feel the baby moving down, which also meant that I felt a ton of downward pressure with the contractions.  I spent the next couple of hours on the birth ball, trying a few different yoga and standing positions, trying the toilet, but always going back to the ball.  Very loud moans and groans got me through the pain, combined with Jesse's back pressure, and remembering to breathe.
I started to feel overwhelmed after a few hours of this routine, like this baby would never come out.  My moans and groans became pretty loud.  Okay, I'm pretty sure I was screaming.  I kept thinking of my sister and my friend Tina, both converts to the "church of Ina May."  I heard their voices telling me to "open like a flower."  Why wasn't this kid coming out already?!  I began to feel "pushy" and asked to be checked.  When I went pee, there was also blood running down my legs, so I was sure I had to be fully dilated.  I'm was counting on it!  I was, however only 8.5 cm.  I didn't want to do this for much longer.  Logically, I knew I was close, but I was in the hardest part of labor, where rational thought goes out the window.  Awhile later, I felt even more "pushy" - for real this time, I was sure of it!  I should mention that when I apologized to the nurse and midwife for being so loud that the whole floor could hear me, they both applauded me for doing a great job.  I can't speak highly enough of the team that took care of me!
Anyway, alas, I was only 9 cm.  My midwife offered to keep her hand in my cervix during a contraction to see if she could dilate me to completion.  It was as painful as you might imagine, laying flat on my back during a giant contraction with her hand up my lady parts.  She was not able to make me dilate anymore, and I was starting to lose my mojo.  So she gave me a game plan.  I should lay on my side through three contractions, then flip to the other side for three contractions.  That usually worked.  Was she kidding?  Lay down for these contractions?  No F-ING way!  I tried it, and I made it through about one and a half contractions before I could not resist the urge to push.  I didn't care what she said, this baby was getting out of me!  She checked me again, and sure enough, I was complete.  FINALLY.  It was about 8:15 pm.  Geez!  Now I could push this kid out - piece of cake, right?
That's when the real work began.  Pushing felt good, because I was in the home stretch (no pun intended), and I was actually DOING something instead of just riding the waves of contractions.  I never actually had to do the work of pushing a baby out before, however, so I didn't know how difficult it would be.  I had an epidural with Sammy, and Gabriel had to be extracted with the vacuum before I actually got into pushing (his heart rate dropped to 70 and stayed there.  The doc thought he was compressing the cord with his knees).  Once again, my midwife was great.  I tried a few different positions, from being on my back, to yoga child's pose, to hands and knees, but I ended up on my side.  He was moving down, but slower than I would have liked.  They brought the mirror over for me to watch, which was incredibly motivating.  Still, I was getting discouraged and I was ready to be done, but tired.  The baby's heart rate dropped a little, and I was afraid that he'd end up being taken like Gabriel when I was told to put on an oxygen mask.  I knew I had to work hard for just awhile longer.  When the midwife told me to reach down and touch his head, I was rejuvenated.  I was ready.  I pushed my heart out, watching in the mirror the whole time.  I could see him coming out - it was absolutely the most painful, most wonderful moment ever.  The further his head emerged, the more I pushed, until at last, it was out.  Another push or two, and I heard, "Reach down and grab your baby."  I did, and together, she and I put him right on my belly.  And just like that, he was here, and our family was complete.





Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Caleb's PregTASTIC Debut

Jesse and I recorded Caleb's birth story at PregTASTIC last weekend.  The podcast hasn't been released yet, but you can watch the video recording on Ustream:

http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/11893241

I'm still working on the written version!