http://www.who.int/nutrition/topics/exclusive_breastfeeding/en/
http://thechart.blogs.cnn.com/2012/06/04/moms-need-more-support-to-breastfeed-exclusively/
http://healthland.time.com/2012/04/30/bring-back-the-binky-study-finds-pacifiers-actually-boost-breast-feeding/?xid=gonewsedit
I've been spending the last few days trying to catch up on sleep (Mace is due for his growth spurt, so he's eating all the time ...) so we'll see if I can manage to get this written up without coming across as too harsh/opinionated/judgmental/crazy/etc. I'm just going to write and post and not think about it any more. Maybe I'll write more in the future.
The World Health Organization recommends that babies be exclusively breastfed for the first 6 months of life, and that breastfeeding continues for the first year of life, up to two years and beyond.
That sounds great. It's certainly a noble goal.
But honestly, is it realistic? At all? Are they REALLY surprised and disheartened that by 6 months, only 14% of babies have been exclusively breastfed? To me, that actually sounds like a really high number. In my last post, I calculated that you could spend 40 hours a month breastfeeding. Honestly, how many women want to do that? Exclusively?
I feel like the WHO is so caught up in the "exclusive breastfeeding" thing that they fail to take into account the women who are "mostly breastfeeding" or "still breastfeeding". Their babies are still getting the benefits of breastfeeding, although maybe not as much (or something; I haven't done an extensive study on it.) I think it makes women feel overwhelmed (it's overwhelming for me, a stay-at-home-mom) and puts a lot of pressure and guilt and whatnot on women who supplement with formula.
I have unopened formula in my pantry. Just in case. And I have some pumped milk in the freezer. Sometimes I'm afraid to think about the formula, because I've got the WHO in the back of my head chanting, "Exclusive breastfeeding! Exclusive breastfeeding! No formula!" and the constant refrain from the crazies in the online breastfeeding world going, "Formula undermines breastfeeding! Formula companies are El Diablo!!" Okay, no, I don't want to go into the politics of Nestle here, thank you.
Yes, 7 weeks in, Mace is exclusively breastfed, and has taken a few bottles of expressed milk. I don't want to mess with formula yet because that means I'll have to reheat the filtered water from the fridge, since I think Austin tap water tastes like dirt and I don't think it would be fair to make Mace drink it. =p I'm too lazy for that. If Mace won't eat right before I want to go somewhere without him, I'll express what I've got into a bottle (for my own comfort!) and Mark can give it to Mace to tide him over. I have yet to need to be away for more than 3 hours yet. But!! Formula is not evil. And ZOMG the WHO is going to be so disappointed in me if I ever feed Mace formula because then I'll be part of that 86% of women who don't exclusively breastfeed their kid for 6 months. Big. Freaking. Whoop.
Then we come across this article, which states, "Moms need more support to breastfeed exclusively".
I think the best way to express my reaction is, "Holy/Good/What the #*$*??" As if being a mom wasn't hard enough, now we need more "support" to breastfeed exclusively. Like, it shouldn't be our choice what we do, we need even more pressure to meet this ideal. Then you look at the comments and everyone says, "Mothers need longer paid maternity leave. Mothers need more support for pumping." ... Sure, it's great we want to set up all of these support systems for moms, but these all look like support systems for working moms.
I feel jealous. I feel left out. I feel discriminated against. I sacrifice financially to stay at home, because I feel like I'll do a better job raising my own kids than a day care would. I like having control over my kids' lives and influences. I like teaching them. But ... where's my handout? Where's my paid maternity leave? Oh, wait - I don't have a paid job. Working moms get child care tax credits. I'm my own child care, and I get nothing. I can go back to the gym after 6 weeks of leave, but I don't get paid for anything. Ever.
We all feel like we're sacrificing. We all want more support. But honestly, it kind of ticks me off that everyone is up in arms about working women and health care and maternity issues and stay-at-home moms get glossed over. Because we're privileged or something, and we don't have to sacrifice, and we don't know what sacrifice is, and we don't understand the economic issues working moms face. You know, if I just lived with my husband and we weren't married, I could collect food stamps and my kid could get discounts for preschool. But because I happen to be married to someone who earns a decent amount of money, I pay taxes and get nothing (beyond what everyone gets.)
...
I don't know what any of that has to do with the WHO and breastfeeding, but I had to get that off my chest. I'm doing fine on my own, I think, but given the chance, I'd love to hop on the gimme gravy train. The least they could do is give the same benefits to both working and stay-at-home moms. Instead of giving "child care" tax credits, give the same tax credits to everyone so we can spend it on day care, or dance classes, or preschool, or whatever! Why does the government feel the need to discriminate and push women into the workforce and push couples away from having children?
I guess I'll have to save my thoughts on pacifiers for later. I already spoiled it with the link at the beginning of my post. ;)
Okay, posting without proofreading ... GO!
(Sorry if I've offended someone with my ranting.)
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
Thoughts on breastfeeding
Excuse currently in my head: I can't write this post because I haven't posted Mace's birth story yet! It makes no sense to suddenly write a post about nursing because you barely even blogged about being pregnant and giving birth to a baby boy!
And this is what I say: You know what, self? It doesn't matter! Just write!
Disclaimer: This post is probably going to be TMI for some people, so if you don't want to hear about babies and boobs and nursing and leaking and body issues, stop reading now.
/disclaimer
I have a love/hate relationship with breastfeeding. I nursed Carmen until she was 20 months old, and Mace is so far exclusively breastfed. It's just so much easier to pop a boob into a baby's mouth than it is to pull out a bottle and mess with measuring out water and formula and making it not too cold. The tap water here tastes like dirt so I'd have to use cold, filtered fridge water, and I'd have to warm it up to a bearable temperature and ... I get tired just thinking about it!
Thoughts on breastfeeding in general:
Pros:
Thoughts in general:
I'm sure there's plenty more I think about the subject, but that's all I've got for now. ;)
And this is what I say: You know what, self? It doesn't matter! Just write!
Disclaimer: This post is probably going to be TMI for some people, so if you don't want to hear about babies and boobs and nursing and leaking and body issues, stop reading now.
/disclaimer
I have a love/hate relationship with breastfeeding. I nursed Carmen until she was 20 months old, and Mace is so far exclusively breastfed. It's just so much easier to pop a boob into a baby's mouth than it is to pull out a bottle and mess with measuring out water and formula and making it not too cold. The tap water here tastes like dirt so I'd have to use cold, filtered fridge water, and I'd have to warm it up to a bearable temperature and ... I get tired just thinking about it!
Thoughts on breastfeeding in general:
Pros:
- It's so easy and convenient! You know your baby is going to be hungry every 2-3 hours (more often if it's growth spurt time) and since you're the mom, you're there, and you can feed them without having to prepare anything.
- Breastfeeding helps your waist get smaller faster, because the hormones associated with breastfeeding help your uterus clamp down to its original size. (con: there is a LOT of cramping in those early days of breastfeeding.)
- You get to eat more food and supposedly you lose weight (and burn thigh fat?) more quickly.
- Your kids are healthier, since your antibodies strengthen their immune system.
- Breastmilk is superfood. Seriously, it does everything. My pediatrician told me to put it in Mace's eyes to open up his tear ducts. It helps clear up baby acne. Colostrum (and possibly breastmilk?) can be used in the early days to soothe sore and cracked nipples. It cures ear infections, too.
- Breastmilk baby poop is a million times better than formula poop. It smells better and just seems cleaner ...
- Babies are less picky when they start eating real food, since your milk tastes different depending on what you've eaten. Unfortunately, most of my milk is made of chocolate, so I'm a little screwed in the variety department ...
- You get snuggles!
- I want to repeat "it's so easy and convenient and cheap and eco-friendly!" about 21938873 times. Why spend money on something inferior? STICK IT TO THE MAN. etc etc.
- Let's face it. It's a little gross.
- I leak like crazy the entire time my kids are breastfeeding, so I have to use nursing pads. It feels kind of unsexy. But, pro! They are super-cute cloth nursing pads from WeeEssentials!
- Every time I get dressed, I have to think about accessibility, and whether or not my particular combination of nursing pads, bra, and shirt make my boobs look funny. It depends on the thickness of the shirt/bra.
- Mace was very tongue tied. That's when the frenulum (the thingy under your tongue that attaches your tongue to the bottom of your mouth) is attached all the way to the tip of the tongue and you can't stick your tongue out at all. It makes it hard for a baby to latch on and suck because they need to stick their tongue out slightly to ... well ... make it all work. Go Google it. =p We went to the ear, nose, and throat doctor in May and he performed a frenectomy (fren = frenulum, ectomy = cutting out) so his tongue could be free and things are a lot easier now!
- Making milk takes work. Work takes energy. Energy creates heat. I am very, very hot when I nurse (haha, I said I'm hot!) I have recently discovered clinical strength deodorant. IT IS AMAZING WHY DID I NOT USE THIS WITH CARMEN. But feeling like you can boil water on your chest when it's also 90-someodd degrees outside? Not fun!!
- If my boobs think it's time to nurse and my baby doesn't, it's uncomfortable. Nursing and hormones in general are uncomfortable.
- Nursing hormones kill your libido.
- You never quite feel like your body is back to normal.
- It's hard to sleep on your stomach at night. Too much pressure on chest = uncomfortable and leaky.
- My mother gives me dirty looks when I'm nursing at home without a cover and my brother is in the house. I'm sorry if it makes him uncomfortable ... but I'm his sister and I'm feeding my baby and just because I have boobs ... I'm his sister!!! Maybe I'm a shameless dirty classless hussy, but I think people need to freak out less about nakedness. Hello, locker rooms? And who hasn't seen some family member streak across the house in a towel at one point or another? It's not sexual. It's not an everyday occurrence, either, but still ... chill out. (Maybe it's because I had college roommates who would lounge around the room in a towel/underwear for a little while after showering or before bed ...)
- It's a huuuuuuge time commitment. Feeding a baby always is. But think of this: Breastfed babies will eat every 2-3 hours for the first 6 months of life (because that's how long it takes to digest) until they start eating solid foods (ie. non-breastmilk). A feeding usually lasts anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes. Let's say a baby eats for 10 minutes every 3 hours. That's 80 minutes a day. If there are 30 days in a month, that's 240 minutes of nursing a month, which is 40 hours. Every month, you spend a whole work week nursing your baby.
Thoughts in general:
- Yes, I'm one of those people who nurses in public. I feel uncomfortable with the idea of other people staring at my boobs, so if I'm in a place where there are a lot of people (such as the outlet malls, Target, a restaurant, a party/wedding) I like to cover up. I'll also generally try to cover up if I'm around unmarried male friends; but if I'm at home, or with family, or with female friends, or in an un-busy place, or I'm at the beach ... I may or may not cover up and people can choose not to stare because I'm not drawing attention to myself. I'm not exactly sure how nursing on a busy public beach is different from nursing at a busy Target, but they're psychologically different to me when it comes to feeling like I'm an exhibitionist while nursing.
- I love my nursing cover (got the black one from Udder Covers). The stiff band around the neck goes out enough that I can look down and see what's going on but nobody else has to stare at my nipples while Mace and I tussle over whether or not he's going to start eating yet. He's light enough that I can carry him around with one arm and walk around and window shop. One time, Mark and I were at the store and I nursed Mace the whole time while Mark pushed the shopping cart. IT WAS AWESOME. I was thrilled not to have to sit down and feed Mace, and not feel awkward by walking around the store half-exposed.
- All of my complaints about nursing seem kind of superficial and selfish. I mean, come on, "nursing makes me feel less sexy"? The convenience and lifetime benefits of nursing far outweigh a few months of temporary discomfort and self-consciousness.
- I will write about the World Health Organization (WHO) and their breastfeeding recommendations some other time. I have a lot of thoughts on the subject. Frankly, I think they're kind of obnoxious in the way they present their goals.
http://www.who.int/nutrition/topics/exclusive_breastfeeding/en/
And this article does a pretty good job to summarize how I feel:
http://thechart.blogs.cnn.com/2012/06/04/moms-need-more-support-to-breastfeed-exclusively/
But the phrase "more support" sounds like mothers need their hands held and to be pushed and prodded into exclusive breastfeeding. That sounds kind of coercive and forceful and makes me feel uncomfortable ... like, what, you're going to guilt mothers into exclusively breastfeeding? Yeah, like that's gonna work. Can't we give moms props for trying, and keeping with it, and for continuing to nurse at a 6 months or a year even if the kid's been fed a couple bottles of formula? Because it's not like the world's moms aren't nursing at all. They're just (gasp!) using a product that's available to make it so they can go out for more than 3 hours without having to pump for it.
I'm sure there's plenty more I think about the subject, but that's all I've got for now. ;)
Sunday, June 10, 2012
You can't outsmart babies ...
Pro tip: When you have a baby, never do all of your laundry. That way, when your child inevitably makes something dirty by spitting up or peeing on it, you will be able to wash it without wasting water on a small load of laundry!
I like being prepared for emergencies. When I go out, I make sure my diaper bag is packed with everything I need: diapers, wipes, a pacifier, a blanket, a burp cloth (Carmen didn't spit up. Mace does. I need to get used to this.), emergency outfits, etc. Last week at church, we learned that we should pack extra blankets, too. For some reason, when it's unreasonably hot outside, they feel the need to make the building unreasonably cold inside. That way, your body is always in shock. Maybe it's to keep everyone awake during Sunday School?
Anyway, today I was feeling REALLY PREPARED when I got to church because we had our extra outfits and blankets on hand. But we got to church and I realized I left my burp cloth (just a plain ol' cloth diaper) at home. Oh, well, I guess that's what paper towels are for.
Mace got hungry about 3/4 of the way through Sacrament Meeting, which I think is awesome because then he won't get hungry in the middle of Relief Society (assuming he's not going through a growth spurt). I went into the mother's room and fed him. He burped but didn't spit up on me (hooray!) and I began to change his diaper. Of course, I thought, "The changing table is so cold; I'll just leave his blanket under him for a few seconds while I change his diaper." I had his new diaper on him and everything and was about to fasten it when ....... he peed. Luckily it missed me and his outfit, but the blanket was done for. FOILED!
But! I had the other blanket. Go me! I picked him up and he rested his head on my shoulder while I washed my hands .... and he spat up all over my sleeve. What?! Dude, you ate 10 minutes ago and I burped you; why are you spitting up now?? Foiled again!
He spent the next 20 minutes or so sporadically spitting up milk. He also managed to get my skirt.
Sigh. No matter how hard you try, you just can't win! At least it cleans up pretty easily ... for the most part ... and he is such a happy, cute, quiet baby. I'll take spitting up over screaming any day! ;)
I like being prepared for emergencies. When I go out, I make sure my diaper bag is packed with everything I need: diapers, wipes, a pacifier, a blanket, a burp cloth (Carmen didn't spit up. Mace does. I need to get used to this.), emergency outfits, etc. Last week at church, we learned that we should pack extra blankets, too. For some reason, when it's unreasonably hot outside, they feel the need to make the building unreasonably cold inside. That way, your body is always in shock. Maybe it's to keep everyone awake during Sunday School?
Anyway, today I was feeling REALLY PREPARED when I got to church because we had our extra outfits and blankets on hand. But we got to church and I realized I left my burp cloth (just a plain ol' cloth diaper) at home. Oh, well, I guess that's what paper towels are for.
Mace got hungry about 3/4 of the way through Sacrament Meeting, which I think is awesome because then he won't get hungry in the middle of Relief Society (assuming he's not going through a growth spurt). I went into the mother's room and fed him. He burped but didn't spit up on me (hooray!) and I began to change his diaper. Of course, I thought, "The changing table is so cold; I'll just leave his blanket under him for a few seconds while I change his diaper." I had his new diaper on him and everything and was about to fasten it when ....... he peed. Luckily it missed me and his outfit, but the blanket was done for. FOILED!
But! I had the other blanket. Go me! I picked him up and he rested his head on my shoulder while I washed my hands .... and he spat up all over my sleeve. What?! Dude, you ate 10 minutes ago and I burped you; why are you spitting up now?? Foiled again!
He spent the next 20 minutes or so sporadically spitting up milk. He also managed to get my skirt.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Things I love about Austin
Things I love about Austin:
I think part of the reason I love it here is because it reminds me so much of Arizona, only it's not as hot, it rains more and is greener, it's in the South not the West (so the people don't all secretly wish they were Californians?), the locals have funny accents, and football is The Shiz. It also seems flatter to me, but then they've got hill country. It feels so much like home.
LOVE.
(sorry for the lack of pics. Here, have some bluebonnets.)
Oh, and one thing I think is funny. Last week, a good friend of mine said something along the lines of, "Well, Texas is pretty much unlivable except for Austin..." HAHAHA. She lives in San Antonio and likes it well enough. ;) Too bad I can't convince her to move here! Austin is a pretty awesome town. Definitely. I'm sure there are some people who like Houston, or Dallas, or San Antonio, too. They're only the 4th, 9th, and 7th most populous cities in the United States.
- Everything is bigger than Texas. Seriously. Even the sky feels bigger.
- Most hotels have Texas-shaped waffle irons.
- Cookies are also Texas-shaped.
- You see stars everywhere.
- The Texas flag (I don't know why I love it so much, but I do! But to give you an idea of how much my opinion means ... I also think Mississippi's Confederate flag is pretty.) I see it on the side of the highway and my heart starts pounding. SO WEIRD. Also, you can fly it as high as our national flag! GO TEXAS.
- People saying "y'all" and "blessed" and having that adorable drawl ... even the receptionists at the doctor's office!
- How friendly everyone is. Mom said, "Even the Asians smile at you!"
- Bluebonnets
- Tex-Mex
- Texas BBQ
- Food in general. Especially here in Austin (it's not all just about the music!) there's a lot of variety. Just like Utah. Only not everyone here is white. =p:
- The birds.
- Swimming pools.
- Monster Texas thunder and rain storms.
I think part of the reason I love it here is because it reminds me so much of Arizona, only it's not as hot, it rains more and is greener, it's in the South not the West (so the people don't all secretly wish they were Californians?), the locals have funny accents, and football is The Shiz. It also seems flatter to me, but then they've got hill country. It feels so much like home.
LOVE.
(sorry for the lack of pics. Here, have some bluebonnets.)
Oh, and one thing I think is funny. Last week, a good friend of mine said something along the lines of, "Well, Texas is pretty much unlivable except for Austin..." HAHAHA. She lives in San Antonio and likes it well enough. ;) Too bad I can't convince her to move here! Austin is a pretty awesome town. Definitely. I'm sure there are some people who like Houston, or Dallas, or San Antonio, too. They're only the 4th, 9th, and 7th most populous cities in the United States.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Mace's Names
There are three things Carmen calls Mace most often.
(in order of popularity)
(in order of popularity)
- Mister Macey Man
- Sweetheart
- Silly Dude
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Mace's Birth Story, Part II
Oh, one thing I forgot to mention... Mark's dad was in town the week
before Mace was born and spoke at a conference up at the base in Killeen
(he's a psychiatrist for the VA). Mark had to wake up around 3 am on
Sunday to take his dad back to the airport. THAT is why we were both so
incredibly exhausted by Sunday evening.
Anyway, I didn't want to make Mark get out of bed (yet) since contractions hadn't started or anything. But of course I couldn't help but wake him up and be like, "My water broke!!! Now go back to bed, I'll let you know when you need to get up and pack." I was kind of ticked that I had cleaned the house and gotten everything ready, but I *hadn't* packed yet because my due date was still almost 3 weeks away. (Lesson: Listen to your body's intuition! It's okay to think you're going to have your babies early!)
I called the doctor and asked her what I was supposed to do, and she said to try to sleep or whatever and come in when the contractions got bad. Second labors go faster than first labors, etc etc. With Carmen, my contractions were *never* less than 5-7 minutes apart (they're usually supposed to go to 2-3 minutes apart at some point) and my body took its sweet, sweet time to get ready to push Carmen out. But then my contractions started and they were all 2-3 minutes apart. Mark, it's time to start packing!
I tried to remember the things I had learned in my Bradley Method class. I had my birthing ball and the couch and Mark was willing to do counter pressure. I made it about an hour before I decided I wanted to die and there was no way in heck I was going without an epidural unless I was dilated past a 7 or something. I. Hate. Labor. Pain. I felt like there were millions of baby velociraptors in my abdomen trying to tear apart my thighs. My legs shook uncontrollably with every contraction and I felt too tired (and still sick from the sinus infection) to handle it.
Mark woke a sleepy Carmen up and told her Mommy was having a baby. She rubbed her eyes, confused, and said, "Is it my birthday?" (Mace was due on her birthday.) Mark explained that Mace decided to be born early and it wasn't quite her birthday yet. "Oh, okay." she said. We called Chris and Becca (our friends who were going to watch Carmen while I was at the hospital) to tell them we were heading to the hospital, and I'm in the background going, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's so early, I'm sorry to wake you up!!! I'M SO SORRY."
We dropped Carmen off and drove to the hospital. I was just about crying from the pain, thinking natural childbirth people are masochists, and I repeated to Mark over and over again, "I'm not kidding, I'm not doing this, I want an epidural if I'm not very dilated and I don't care."
My favorite midwife (Dr. Kubesh) was on call at the hospital until 8 and I don't remember if I had brought my birth plan to my last appointment (on Wednesday) or if I had left it at home ... anyway. She looked over my birth plan and said everything looked great. I stopped her informed her, "The only thing I'm changing is I WANT AN EPIDURAL. I'm sorry. I thought I wanted to do this naturally, but ... I'm sorry ..." She was so sweet and reminded me there's more to my birth plan than avoiding medication. ;)
Around 7 am, Dr. Kubesh checked me and told me I was about 80% effaced, 3 cm dilated (sad, sad days!!), and at -1 station (Basically, you get to 100% effacement, you dilate to a 10, and when you get to a positive station the baby is basically coming out.) She told me that since my water had already broken, they wouldn't do any more vaginal exams because that increases the risk of infection and they would pretty much leave me alone until I felt I was ready to push.
I was in lots of pain, but I tried to stay cheerful about it. Nobody likes a whiner, right? I had a nurse and a student come in and take my vitals every so often and they were both really cute and sweet. They teased me about being too cheerful for being in labor, and they wouldn't know whether or not the epidural was working because I was so peaceful and happy-seeming. Honestly, every time a contraction started I just tried to relax through it like I'd tried to learn in my Bradley class. BUT DANG IT HURT SO BAD. BURNING BABY VELOCIRAPTORS.
Finally, I got an epidural. Soon afterwards, I could tell that my left side was way more numb than my right side. In fact, my right side hardly felt numb at all. They tried having me roll over onto my other side so gravity would pull some of the medication down to my right side, but it never really seemed to work ... This epidural was not as amazing as Carmen's was. But since my legs were mostly numb, I was stuck in bed with half a happy body and half a body being eaten by velociraptors. Oh, well, let me tell you - half an epidural is still probably a million times better than no epidural at all. ;)
And the contractions continued to be as close together as they had been. I was kind of miserable and I had no idea how long I had left. Occasionally I'd press the button to get more epidural drugs, but I couldn't get my right side to stop hurting. After an hour or two, I called the nurses back in to see if there was anything they could do for me. They brought the anesthesiologist back in at some point and she pulled on the epidural IV they put in my back, and it seemed to straighten things out and help my right side get a little more numb.
At about the same time, they decided to check me and see how far along I was, because if I was in so much pain I might just be in transition. Man, that would be awesome! It was only, like, 11 am!! Sure enough, I was dilated to a 9. Really? After only a few hours? Awesome! They told me to call them back in when I started feeling the urge to push (you feel pressure down there like you need to poop.)
The doctor was actually delivering another baby when I started feeling the urge to push, so I had to relax and resist the urge to push until the doctor came in. Dr. Sebestyen set everything up and put Mark in position so he could help catch the baby when he was born (that was something Mark wanted to do, so we put it in our birth plan if the doctors would be okay with it.) She told me to start pushing when I felt ready, and suddenly I had stage fright. I couldn't remember how to push or how to breathe or ... anything. My mind was blank. Dr. Sebestyen was so nice and told me when to push and inhale and exhale and remember to breathe. (me = dork.)
I pushed for the first time and everyone told me they saw the baby's head. I didn't believe them. I pushed a second time, a third time, and his head started coming out. (I'd asked for a mirror so I could see it. It's so gross, but so cool!) I didn't watch much of it, actually, because I clamped my eyes shut while I pushed to block out some of the pain from my half-epidural. A few times she asked me to push a little bit and hold him somewhere ... and ... I don't know. Then he was out. It took like 20 minutes. I am a stud.
The baby was born at 11:53 am and they sat him on my stomach as soon as he came out. Mark caught him. They covered him with a blanket and I just wanted to hold him and hold him and hold him and hold him. Eventually, Mark cut the cord, the placenta came out, and Dr. Sebesteyen showed it to us and described everything. It looks like a giant red and gray unskinned chicken breast. (Yuck, cool?)
They told the student that I had done really awesome and it was something like a perfect delivery. They asked me how much I thought my baby weighed, and I said, "Well, at my last appointment they didn't seem to think he was very big, and he's two and a half weeks early, so I'm thinking he can't possibly weigh more than 7 pounds?" He was 7 pounds 7 ounces. SWEET! And he was 19 3/4" long.
And I didn't tear. I couldn't believe it when they told me I didn't tear - I felt AMAZING.
For those of you who are going to have a baby some day - DO SQUATS. I think that's what made it so I didn't tear.
The epidural wore off quickly and I wasn't in very much pain at all (I think I took 2 or 3 ibuprofen total, and stopped taking them early the next morning?) and I wanted to walk. They have you go to the bathroom before they take you to your new suite and the nurse kept teasing me because I wanted to walk to the bathroom myself (with a half-numb left leg). I'm sure I looked a bit like a drunk Jack Sparrow, or Inigo from The Princess Bride. "This is where I am, and this is where I'm gonna stay! I will no' be moved!"
And oh man. I didn't tear. I could walk! I felt awesome! I wanted to go home! I had the one of the biggest hospital rooms (because it was in the corner!) Mace roomed in with me the WHOLE TIME and they only took him away twice (at midnight, to be weighed) (okay, and to be circumcised) and he nursed really well (even with a really bad tongue-tie) and I love my pediatrician (Dr. Juan Guerrero) and Mace was SUCH A QUIET HAPPY PEACEFUL CHILLED OUT BABY.
I was just in love on cloud 9. I have never felt so amazing in my life.
My hat's off to you women who do natural childbirth. That day, I learned if I had a choice, there is no way I would do a natural birth or a home birth. As much as I hate the nurses coming in and harassing you all the time, I hate labor pain even more. ;)
Man, I love these cute people! Carmen cried when she came to the hospital and I told her Mace couldn't come home with her yet. "The doctors want to keep checking on him." I said. "Oh no!" she cried. "Are they going to give him SHOTS?!" and started crying for all the pain the doctors would inflict on her poor baby brother. She told me that if anyone says anything mean about him, she would hiss ("fiss!!") at them and chase them away. You go, girl!
Anyway, I didn't want to make Mark get out of bed (yet) since contractions hadn't started or anything. But of course I couldn't help but wake him up and be like, "My water broke!!! Now go back to bed, I'll let you know when you need to get up and pack." I was kind of ticked that I had cleaned the house and gotten everything ready, but I *hadn't* packed yet because my due date was still almost 3 weeks away. (Lesson: Listen to your body's intuition! It's okay to think you're going to have your babies early!)
I called the doctor and asked her what I was supposed to do, and she said to try to sleep or whatever and come in when the contractions got bad. Second labors go faster than first labors, etc etc. With Carmen, my contractions were *never* less than 5-7 minutes apart (they're usually supposed to go to 2-3 minutes apart at some point) and my body took its sweet, sweet time to get ready to push Carmen out. But then my contractions started and they were all 2-3 minutes apart. Mark, it's time to start packing!
I tried to remember the things I had learned in my Bradley Method class. I had my birthing ball and the couch and Mark was willing to do counter pressure. I made it about an hour before I decided I wanted to die and there was no way in heck I was going without an epidural unless I was dilated past a 7 or something. I. Hate. Labor. Pain. I felt like there were millions of baby velociraptors in my abdomen trying to tear apart my thighs. My legs shook uncontrollably with every contraction and I felt too tired (and still sick from the sinus infection) to handle it.
Mark woke a sleepy Carmen up and told her Mommy was having a baby. She rubbed her eyes, confused, and said, "Is it my birthday?" (Mace was due on her birthday.) Mark explained that Mace decided to be born early and it wasn't quite her birthday yet. "Oh, okay." she said. We called Chris and Becca (our friends who were going to watch Carmen while I was at the hospital) to tell them we were heading to the hospital, and I'm in the background going, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's so early, I'm sorry to wake you up!!! I'M SO SORRY."
We dropped Carmen off and drove to the hospital. I was just about crying from the pain, thinking natural childbirth people are masochists, and I repeated to Mark over and over again, "I'm not kidding, I'm not doing this, I want an epidural if I'm not very dilated and I don't care."
My favorite midwife (Dr. Kubesh) was on call at the hospital until 8 and I don't remember if I had brought my birth plan to my last appointment (on Wednesday) or if I had left it at home ... anyway. She looked over my birth plan and said everything looked great. I stopped her informed her, "The only thing I'm changing is I WANT AN EPIDURAL. I'm sorry. I thought I wanted to do this naturally, but ... I'm sorry ..." She was so sweet and reminded me there's more to my birth plan than avoiding medication. ;)
Around 7 am, Dr. Kubesh checked me and told me I was about 80% effaced, 3 cm dilated (sad, sad days!!), and at -1 station (Basically, you get to 100% effacement, you dilate to a 10, and when you get to a positive station the baby is basically coming out.) She told me that since my water had already broken, they wouldn't do any more vaginal exams because that increases the risk of infection and they would pretty much leave me alone until I felt I was ready to push.
I was in lots of pain, but I tried to stay cheerful about it. Nobody likes a whiner, right? I had a nurse and a student come in and take my vitals every so often and they were both really cute and sweet. They teased me about being too cheerful for being in labor, and they wouldn't know whether or not the epidural was working because I was so peaceful and happy-seeming. Honestly, every time a contraction started I just tried to relax through it like I'd tried to learn in my Bradley class. BUT DANG IT HURT SO BAD. BURNING BABY VELOCIRAPTORS.
Finally, I got an epidural. Soon afterwards, I could tell that my left side was way more numb than my right side. In fact, my right side hardly felt numb at all. They tried having me roll over onto my other side so gravity would pull some of the medication down to my right side, but it never really seemed to work ... This epidural was not as amazing as Carmen's was. But since my legs were mostly numb, I was stuck in bed with half a happy body and half a body being eaten by velociraptors. Oh, well, let me tell you - half an epidural is still probably a million times better than no epidural at all. ;)
And the contractions continued to be as close together as they had been. I was kind of miserable and I had no idea how long I had left. Occasionally I'd press the button to get more epidural drugs, but I couldn't get my right side to stop hurting. After an hour or two, I called the nurses back in to see if there was anything they could do for me. They brought the anesthesiologist back in at some point and she pulled on the epidural IV they put in my back, and it seemed to straighten things out and help my right side get a little more numb.
At about the same time, they decided to check me and see how far along I was, because if I was in so much pain I might just be in transition. Man, that would be awesome! It was only, like, 11 am!! Sure enough, I was dilated to a 9. Really? After only a few hours? Awesome! They told me to call them back in when I started feeling the urge to push (you feel pressure down there like you need to poop.)
The doctor was actually delivering another baby when I started feeling the urge to push, so I had to relax and resist the urge to push until the doctor came in. Dr. Sebestyen set everything up and put Mark in position so he could help catch the baby when he was born (that was something Mark wanted to do, so we put it in our birth plan if the doctors would be okay with it.) She told me to start pushing when I felt ready, and suddenly I had stage fright. I couldn't remember how to push or how to breathe or ... anything. My mind was blank. Dr. Sebestyen was so nice and told me when to push and inhale and exhale and remember to breathe. (me = dork.)
I pushed for the first time and everyone told me they saw the baby's head. I didn't believe them. I pushed a second time, a third time, and his head started coming out. (I'd asked for a mirror so I could see it. It's so gross, but so cool!) I didn't watch much of it, actually, because I clamped my eyes shut while I pushed to block out some of the pain from my half-epidural. A few times she asked me to push a little bit and hold him somewhere ... and ... I don't know. Then he was out. It took like 20 minutes. I am a stud.
The baby was born at 11:53 am and they sat him on my stomach as soon as he came out. Mark caught him. They covered him with a blanket and I just wanted to hold him and hold him and hold him and hold him. Eventually, Mark cut the cord, the placenta came out, and Dr. Sebesteyen showed it to us and described everything. It looks like a giant red and gray unskinned chicken breast. (Yuck, cool?)
They told the student that I had done really awesome and it was something like a perfect delivery. They asked me how much I thought my baby weighed, and I said, "Well, at my last appointment they didn't seem to think he was very big, and he's two and a half weeks early, so I'm thinking he can't possibly weigh more than 7 pounds?" He was 7 pounds 7 ounces. SWEET! And he was 19 3/4" long.
And I didn't tear. I couldn't believe it when they told me I didn't tear - I felt AMAZING.
For those of you who are going to have a baby some day - DO SQUATS. I think that's what made it so I didn't tear.
The epidural wore off quickly and I wasn't in very much pain at all (I think I took 2 or 3 ibuprofen total, and stopped taking them early the next morning?) and I wanted to walk. They have you go to the bathroom before they take you to your new suite and the nurse kept teasing me because I wanted to walk to the bathroom myself (with a half-numb left leg). I'm sure I looked a bit like a drunk Jack Sparrow, or Inigo from The Princess Bride. "This is where I am, and this is where I'm gonna stay! I will no' be moved!"
And oh man. I didn't tear. I could walk! I felt awesome! I wanted to go home! I had the one of the biggest hospital rooms (because it was in the corner!) Mace roomed in with me the WHOLE TIME and they only took him away twice (at midnight, to be weighed) (okay, and to be circumcised) and he nursed really well (even with a really bad tongue-tie) and I love my pediatrician (Dr. Juan Guerrero) and Mace was SUCH A QUIET HAPPY PEACEFUL CHILLED OUT BABY.
I was just in love on cloud 9. I have never felt so amazing in my life.
My hat's off to you women who do natural childbirth. That day, I learned if I had a choice, there is no way I would do a natural birth or a home birth. As much as I hate the nurses coming in and harassing you all the time, I hate labor pain even more. ;)
Man, I love these cute people! Carmen cried when she came to the hospital and I told her Mace couldn't come home with her yet. "The doctors want to keep checking on him." I said. "Oh no!" she cried. "Are they going to give him SHOTS?!" and started crying for all the pain the doctors would inflict on her poor baby brother. She told me that if anyone says anything mean about him, she would hiss ("fiss!!") at them and chase them away. You go, girl!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Mace's birth story, part 1
Carmen was born two weeks early, on the due date predicted by my LMP (40 weeks after the first day of your last period). My second pregnancy was basically identical to my first, so I was more or less expecting to have a baby around my LMP-determined due date.
For the record, my LMP due date was May 4. My ultrasound-adjusted due date was May 11 (Carmen's birthday.) Mace's real birthday was Monday, April 23. He psyched us all out!!!
the week before Mace was born:
Facebook updates in italics:
In the middle of April, I started feeling sick like I had eaten too much junk food. I also started having some Braxton-Hicks contractions, so I got the feeling the time was coming soon. Of course, I had a hard time telling anybody because they would just think, "Oh, you silly girl, there's no way you can predict when your baby comes based on how you feel. Just wait until it happens." but I wanted to scream, "No, wait! It's silly, but I seriously feel like I'm probably going to have a baby this weekend! I'm willing to wait until my due date and beyond, but I've just got this feeling!"
So, darn it, I told the Jehovah's Witnesses. "I'm feeling the same way I felt the week before Carmen was born. We'll see if it means anything!"
Some of Mark's friends asked if our family wanted to go to Lion King on ice (I think?) at the end of April. I would have loved to go, but I didn't want to commit to anything just in case the baby came. Instead, we decided to get together at a park on Saturday. I ended up developing a nasty sinus infection that day, so Mark took Carmen to play with their daughter at the park and I spent the day in bed. Several months ago, an allergy doctor gave me a prescription for Rhinocort aqua, the only pregnancy-approved nasal spray ... so I used it and felt amazing. Oh man. I didn't realize how much the inflammation affected how miserable sinus infections are.
Beefed up by Rhinocort, I went to church on Sunday. Some people asked me how much longer I had left, and I told them it was about 3 weeks to my due date. How am I feeling? Fine, who knows when this baby will come. They needed a substitute pianist in Primary. I play the piano for Relief Society, but I volunteered to fill in for the first hour. A good friend of mine is the Primary Chorister, so it was nice being able to spend some time around her.
By the time Sunday ended, I was exhausted. I was looking forward to planting Carmen in front of the TV for a little while in the morning so I could catch some extra sleep. Darn that sinus infection.
I woke up in the middle of the night, as usual, because I wanted to roll over or something. I lay there quietly for a few moments and tried to go back to sleep, then felt ... a pop. And my water broke at 3:46 am.
Oh, crap. I thought. So much for sleeping in today. My second thought was, Hurry, get to the bathroom! You didn't get the sheets wet! GET UP GET UP GET UP.
For the record, my LMP due date was May 4. My ultrasound-adjusted due date was May 11 (Carmen's birthday.) Mace's real birthday was Monday, April 23. He psyched us all out!!!
the week before Mace was born:
Facebook updates in italics:
April 16 - Did massive quantities of nesting activities today. Even washed some baby clothes! I feel much better now.
April 17 - Filled
out the hospital's online preregistration form and had my first Braxton
Hicks contractions today. Exciting? Still got 3 weeks left!
In the middle of April, I started feeling sick like I had eaten too much junk food. I also started having some Braxton-Hicks contractions, so I got the feeling the time was coming soon. Of course, I had a hard time telling anybody because they would just think, "Oh, you silly girl, there's no way you can predict when your baby comes based on how you feel. Just wait until it happens." but I wanted to scream, "No, wait! It's silly, but I seriously feel like I'm probably going to have a baby this weekend! I'm willing to wait until my due date and beyond, but I've just got this feeling!"
So, darn it, I told the Jehovah's Witnesses. "I'm feeling the same way I felt the week before Carmen was born. We'll see if it means anything!"
April 19 - Started
my "medical hold" at the gym today. Carmen has so much fun at the day
care - I almost feel bad picking her up! Today she was having a tea
party with another little girl, and it was sooooo cute!
April 21 - Funny how sinus infections sneak up on you, then suddenly hit you in the head like a baseball bat.
comments under this post:
Dana- No not funny. :( I hope you feel better.
Robin- get better!
Rebecca- Ugh, just what you needed!
LuAnn- whenever I was pregnant I would always get horrible sinus infections. I saw my ENT more than my OB-Gyn.
Kamis- Irony, Murphy's Law, or God's Cruel Sense of Humor dictates I'm probably going to go into labor while sick. (Oh, man, I hope not!!!) For the record, Rhinocort is amazing. Apparently it's the only pregnancy-approved drug of its kind, and for once I don't feel like my sinuses are going to explode! Yay, steroids! Yay, allergy doctor who preemptively gave me this prescription 5 months ago!
April 22 at 7:16am
Check out the date on that comment. I am so psychic.
Robin- get better!
Rebecca- Ugh, just what you needed!
LuAnn- whenever I was pregnant I would always get horrible sinus infections. I saw my ENT more than my OB-Gyn.
Kamis- Irony, Murphy's Law, or God's Cruel Sense of Humor dictates I'm probably going to go into labor while sick. (Oh, man, I hope not!!!) For the record, Rhinocort is amazing. Apparently it's the only pregnancy-approved drug of its kind, and for once I don't feel like my sinuses are going to explode! Yay, steroids! Yay, allergy doctor who preemptively gave me this prescription 5 months ago!
April 22 at 7:16am
Check out the date on that comment. I am so psychic.
Some of Mark's friends asked if our family wanted to go to Lion King on ice (I think?) at the end of April. I would have loved to go, but I didn't want to commit to anything just in case the baby came. Instead, we decided to get together at a park on Saturday. I ended up developing a nasty sinus infection that day, so Mark took Carmen to play with their daughter at the park and I spent the day in bed. Several months ago, an allergy doctor gave me a prescription for Rhinocort aqua, the only pregnancy-approved nasal spray ... so I used it and felt amazing. Oh man. I didn't realize how much the inflammation affected how miserable sinus infections are.
Beefed up by Rhinocort, I went to church on Sunday. Some people asked me how much longer I had left, and I told them it was about 3 weeks to my due date. How am I feeling? Fine, who knows when this baby will come. They needed a substitute pianist in Primary. I play the piano for Relief Society, but I volunteered to fill in for the first hour. A good friend of mine is the Primary Chorister, so it was nice being able to spend some time around her.
By the time Sunday ended, I was exhausted. I was looking forward to planting Carmen in front of the TV for a little while in the morning so I could catch some extra sleep. Darn that sinus infection.
I woke up in the middle of the night, as usual, because I wanted to roll over or something. I lay there quietly for a few moments and tried to go back to sleep, then felt ... a pop. And my water broke at 3:46 am.
Oh, crap. I thought. So much for sleeping in today. My second thought was, Hurry, get to the bathroom! You didn't get the sheets wet! GET UP GET UP GET UP.
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