Ambiguous News

Finally, a good profile picture of the little guy!

Love how his little hand is curled up by his face...

Today was the "re-check" ultrasound, because he was in a funky position last time, and just a little too small for them to see everything they wanted, like the fingers, the toes, the four chambers of the heart, the spine...

The good news is, they found everything they needed this time, he's still a boy :D - and I got video. The bad news is, either the software or the USB cord isn't working to transfer it to the computer, so I can watch it, but you can't! Wahhh!

The ambiguous news... our little guy has a very teeny tiny slight curve in his spine. There's no evidence of spina bifida, or a neural tube defect or anything like that. His mobility isn't effected, and there are no other defects that they can find in the heart, brain, etc.

Of course, all the literature I can find on the Internet conflicts, and varies from: "We conclude that abnormal spinal curvature in the fetus is a significant finding, whether mild or severe" to "Spinal curves are relatively common in the general population. Most curvatures are mild to moderate, while only a small percentage severe enough to warrant treatment."

So reassuring.

Not.

I don't know if the OB is going to want follow-up ultrasounds but my guess is that he is. *sigh* What I hate is not knowing for sure. And I'm having flashbacks of my pregnancy with Blake, where they found his kidney "slightly enlarged" at sixteen weeks. The cascade of interventions that followed, including an ultrasound every four weeks after that, an amniocentesis at 38 weeks to check lung maturity, and an induction soon after... ugh. Just the thought of it makes me want to cry.

And of course, there was all the awful, painful testing afterward, to find out that nothing was wrong with him at all...

This is what happens, I guess, when you open Pandora's box.

The doc who came in said, "I can't guarantee anything, but this seems very slight, and there are no other indicators. My guess is that some day he'll get an x-ray and say, 'Hey, mom, did you know I have a slight curve in my spine?'"

We can hope, I suppose, but in the mean time, I'm hormonal...and except for that perfectly rounded string of pearls without a little dip in the middle, I don't know the difference between what's normal and isn't - and when you mention "spine" and "abnormality" in the same sentence, a pregnant woman has a tendency to panic...

So I'm trying not to look at this as bad news, but rather... ambiguous news. We don't really know. Could be something. Could be nothing.

Unfortunately, you can't shut Pandora's box. Once it's open, you just have to live with it.

Sometimes I think denial isn't such a bad thing after all.

Let's Talk About Sex

The sex of our baby is......

(You did realize I was talking about that kind of sex, right? )

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A BOY!

 

 

I thought for sure we were having a girl. My pattern so far has been girl, boy, girl, boy... so I was in line for a girl. And we both wanted a boy, so that, of course, meant for sure it would be a girl...

But it's A BOY!

Now to go break Zoe's heart and tell her it's not a sister...

*sigh*

Oh, and I have to go back in ten days, because I'm 18w2d and they couldn't see as much as they wanted and baby was being VERY obstinate about position (he was breech and comfy and not moving thankyouverymuch!)

So more pictures and a video next time!

psst... did I mention? It's  A BOY!

Results

We had an OB appt today and I finally got my official nuchal scan u/s results back - my risk of having a baby with Downs Syndrome went from 1 in 113 to 1 in 2241, and my risk of having a baby with trisomy 13/18 went from 1 in 201 to 1 in 4001. 

Whew!

Also heard the heartbeat... the midwife couldn't find it last week, but we heard it galloping along just fine today. And we set up my anatomy ultrasound at 18 weeks - two weeks earlier than I expected.

I think we've decided to find out the gender. The kids are fighting over which they want - brother or sister - and I think getting the disappointment over now is better than waiting until the baby's actually here, kwim?

So we'll know what we're having in four more weeks...

Secret Gender

When I was a kid, I always hunted for and found my Christmas presents.

I've never been big on surprises. Most of the time, to me, surprises have been pretty disappointing. I like anticipation, but only when I know WHAT is coming. I like seeing the light at the end of a tunnel, and already knowing that it's not a train!

So the decision to keep the gender of this baby a surprise was a tough one for me. But my first was a surprise. My ex wanted a girl, and I did, too, and that's just what she was, but we didn't know until the moment she arrived. Granted, the OB announced it, and they whisked her away to the warming table to be suctioned, and I didn't see her for a while. 

But it was a surprise. 

We didn't want to know the sex of our second baby, either, but when the tech asked and I told her no, we didn't know to know, she mouthed the word, "Boy!" to the other tech... and Pandora's box was open.

So resisting the temptation with baby number three and four was just too difficult. And Michael wanted to know, too, so I figured, why not? People could buy us gender-specific things (and since it had been so long since I'd had a baby, I had no baby things left!) which they were begging to do...

But I was going to stick to my guns with this baby. It was going to be a surprise, no matter how tempting it was to find out at that twenty-week ultrasound. A nice bookend to my first pregnancy.

Now I'm re-thinking that, but it's not my curious-kitty instincts that are changing my mind. What I didn't count on were the other kids having very strong preferences for one gender or the other. Zoe wants a sister. She very adamantly wants a sister. And Dmitri wants a brother. And they are fighting about it constantly, which gender it is, and who's going to get what.

I'm trying to imagine the disappointment and resentment - inevitable, with one, if not the other - at the birth. That's gonna suck. It should be a joyful time, and I really don't want to have to console a first-grader because the baby isn't the gender they wanted. *sigh*

So, selfishly, I'm wondering if I should just find out now, and tell them so they can get the disappointment over with, and then get used to having either a brother or a sister? That way, there will be no big surprises for them at the birth. They'll already know if we're welcoming Luke or Lucy... 

I suppose it makes the most sense. And hey, I love finding out secrets. I'm fourteen weeks today, so that ultrasound is six weeks away. I still have time to consider and think about it.

But I think I'm now leaning toward finding out.

Expired Eggs?

So, when we went to the OB (yes, we went to an OB... *gasp* But only so I can get some tests done I want that insurance will pay for... ;) ) he made a comment about my eggs. 

Granted, I said something first. I mentioned that I wanted the first trimester screen for Trisomy disorders (13, 18, Down's Syndrome, etc.) because at 38 (39 by the time this baby is born) my eggs are just a little past their expiration date. 

He nodded and said, "I always tell my patients, you've had those eggs since you were born! Would you eat eggs that were 38 years old?"

Okay, first of all... dude, no one gets to make comments about my eggs but me.  Got it? That's like a direct reference to a woman's age, which, at mine, just isn't cool. Secondly... who would EAT human eggs!? Like, what, they're some strange sort of caviar!? That brings up some twisted horror cannibalism thing I don't even want to think about... eww!

But I digress. The OB and I had a little discussion about birth, I refused a pelvic or pap (just had a pap back in January, I'm good, thanks!) and although the nurse looked at me like I had three heads and kept trying to get me to strip for her and put on the little paper dress (three times! She came back three times! lol) the doc was okay with my refusal. 

The important this is he ordered my test and we went and saw the baby. Again. Looks more like a baby now than a blob, which was nice to see. But again, my knowledge of birth and all that "doctorin' stuff" irked someone. 

The u/s results themselves came out fine... from everything I could discern. They didn't check a lot of the soft markers I thought they should have, but the nuchal space wasn't measuring abnormal, so that's good, and we did see a nasal bone.

If you don't know anything about the new first trimester screen for genetic issues, the ultrasound portion is called the "nuchal translucency scan." Basically, they're checking a space behind the baby's neck to see if it's swollen. They've discovered that a majority (1 in 4) babies with a trisomy disorder will have a swollen nuchal space. They also check other things - like the appearance of a nasal bone. Down's Syndrome babies often don't have one that appears between the 11-13th week (when they do this test) but you can normally see the nasal bone in babies without a trisomy disorder. There are other soft markers they look for (echogenic bowel, cysts in the brain, etc.) as well, and they also do a blood test to check both HCG and PAPPA in the mother's blood. They put it all together and give you a risk factor for giving birth to a child with a genetic disorder.

I probably wouldn't have even considered this test, if I didn't know how exponentially the odds go up of having a child with a trisomy disorder after the age of thirty-five. You can see, on this table, how the risks go up.

Age (years)	Frequency of Fetuses with Down Syndrome to Normal Fetuses at 16 weeks of pregnancy	Frequency of Live Births of Babies with Down Syndrome to Normal Births
15 - 19	----	1 / 1250
20 - 24	----	1 / 1400
25 - 29	----	1 / 1100
30 - 31	----	1 / 900
32	----	1 / 750
33	1 / 420	1 / 625
34	1 / 325	1 / 500
35	1 / 250	1 / 350
36	1 / 200	1 / 275
37	1 / 150	1 / 225
38	1 / 120	1 / 175
39	1 / 100	1 / 140
40	1 / 75	1 / 100
41	1 / 60	1 / 85
42	1 / 45	1 / 65
43	1 / 35	1 / 50
44	1 / 30	1 / 40
45 and older	1 / 20	1 / 25

So anyway, back to the actual ultrasound. The tech was having a hard time getting baby to move into the position she wanted, so she didn't take hardly any time at the end to take good pics because she was too frustrated. 

(And although I wanted a video, and they told me on the phone they could do one, the tech told me, "Oh we will only tape once, so I'll do it now if you want, but this isn't a very long or interesting scan, you should probably wait for the 20 week one. GRRR. Okay, fine, then... figured I'd get pictures, that would suffice. *sigh*) 

Anyway, she got so frustrated with baby's uncooperativeness that she even called the doc in to re-check what she'd measured. Then, of course, the doc decides to blame it on my weight... but when I asked if a transvag would be better, she said, "no."

And then the doc says, "You need to have an u/s every 5-6 weeks from now on to measure the baby's size." Huh? WTH? Why?

"It's hard to palpate a baby on someone your size, and we need to know how big baby will be for delivery."

Oh freakin' PLEASE! I've had two home births and two midwives who could palpate my babies JUST fine, thankyouverymuch. (I didn't say that... )

I DID say, "Isn't late u/s notoriously inaccurate for judging a baby's actual size?"

"Well, something is better than nothing."

FEH!

She was also really, really, really hard to get info out of. She didn't like that I was educated about the scan, that I knew terms like "echogenic bowel" and wanted to know if baby had one. She was very avoidant, and just kept giving me the equivalent of "don't worry your pretty head about it" again and again. GRRRR.

So I'll ask for copies of the test results from the doc in two weeks, when I see him, and I'm calling around to interview home birth midwives this week.

Guess I needed a kick in the butt to motivate me! 

But here are two (albiet blurry) pictures of little Luke or Lucy:

 

 

The Rabbit Really Died!

Okay, not really... but if we were back in the day, he would have! Now I just have a little plastic stick with some chemical paper reaction to say, "We're Pregnant!" Baby number five, due April 8, 2009, planning another home birth. This one will be an Aries... THAT should be fun! We were planning another Aquarian, but the universe had other plans.

We did see an OB, had an early ultrasound. That was new - I've never had one so early. There's actually a moving-around little baby in there! It's only about the size of a kumquat, apparently, although I swear I've felt it moving already!

Here's a "picture" of our little one:

 

If you can't tell, that round thing on the right is the head - the rest, kind of curling around on the left, is the body. (Baby's looking down). If you look close, you can see little arms and legs. We actually saw them waving around at us during the ultrasound!

We told the kids - Zoe is so excited she can hardly contain herself. We let her call and tell the grandparents. Dmitri got to tell them when the baby's coming. And he made it very clear that he wants a baby brother. Zoe wants a baby sister. So someone is gonna be disappointed... :x 

We're still tossing around name variations, but we know, at least, what the baby will be called. If it's a girl: Lucy; and if it's a boy: Luke. We've got all sorts of variations and spellings, though, from Lucille, Lucia, Lucida or Lucienne for a girl to Lucas, Lucius, and Lukanos for a boy. And more...

He/she will be named after both of his/her maternal grandmothers (they were both named Lucille) and a very good friend of ours, Luke, who passed away a few years ago. As for middle names, we may just go all egotistical with Dawn and Michael, who knows? :)

NOW we just have to try and stick to our guns and NOT find out the sex beforehand. I already have grandmothers who want to buy clothes, who are clamoring to know! Eek! I don't know if I can sit in the ultrasound room, and have the tech find out, and NOT ask. At first, I really wanted it to be a surprise, but now Michael says he doesn't care if it's a surprise - he'd be fine with knowing or waiting.

Sheesh. Make my life difficult why don't ya?!

Letter to the NY Times

This lawsuit inspired the following letter to the NY Times from Michael:

Stefanie,

I read your article of 4-29-08 about Sandra Madero online. I'm a father of 2 biological children.

I didn't know Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spas were in the birth control business. I was outraged when I read your story. How could anyone continue to patronize a company who caters to women when the company treats a pregnant woman employee the way they did? You'd think it would give them the great marketing idea of developing a spa program, or line of spa home products, for pregnant women. But, no, a pregnant employee gave them the idea that the very essence for their existence - women - are to be abused and denigrated when they become pregnant.

I have already returned the Elizabeth Arden products that I bought my wife, mother and mother-in-law for Mother's Day. And I am encouraging all I know to do the same and to not buy from Elizabeth Arden. I will make certain that my wife spreads your article far and wide throughout her mothering groups, forums and blogs and our parenting and birth communities, groups, forums and blogs.

Zoe's Birth Story

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Go add your birth story, too!

*****

Zoe Mikhala
June 1, 2001
3:43 a.m.
5lbs
18 inches long


I had a prenatal appointment scheduled for June 1 at our new house, where all the midwives would practice getting here, and we would go over our last minute plans of how we wanted the birth to go. On the morning of May 31, Michael said upon leaving the house, "Today would be a good day, it's Thursday, you know." We'd been joking for a few weeks that she needed to be accommodating and be born on a Thursday (he has Fridays off) so that he could take the entire following week and not have to go back to work until the next week. I laughed and said, "No way, she has to wait until June now, today is my sister's birthday, I don't want her to have to share!"

Instead of sleeping in, I decided to get up and get started on the things on "the list" that needed to be done around the house. Admittedly, it's an ever-shortening list, which is a relief, but after breakfast I started not feeling so well, having to run to the bathroom every half an hour or so. After about the third time, it suddenly occurred to me that this was probably a good sign that labor was going to begin at some point, maybe not today, but soon. Either that, or the thai food we'd eaten the night before hadn't agreed with me!

I hung around the house, kind of anxiously anticipating something, almost as if I could feel it in the air. Sure enough, contractions started that afternoon. Nothing major, a little bigger and more intense than the Braxton-Hicks I'd been experiencing, in fact they were so far apart and weren't so bad that I wasn't sure they were "real" contractions at all. The hardest part was not knowing for sure!

I picked the kids up in the afternoon from school, and noticed that I was having a hard time concentrating on what they were saying if I was having a contraction. Hmm... that was a good sign. Maybe these were "real" then! I tidied up when I got home, got a few last minute things together for the birth (just in case I'm really in labor, I told myself!) and started preparing dinner. Contractions weren't really close together, anywhere from five minutes, to eight minutes, and sometimes fifteen minutes apart. No real pattern.

Michael called at five, and I told him, "Well, you may be a daddy today." Even though I told him not to, he canceled his last client and came right home. I was afraid that it wasn't really labor, and I didn't want to disappoint him if it wasn't really it! I had contractions through dinner, through clean-up, through kids' baths and bedtimes, but again, they were anywhere from five to eight minutes apart, and while they were uncomfortable, I still doubted if I was really in labor.

Finally, I called the midwife around 8:30 p.m., just to give them a heads up. I didn't want to have to wake anyone up in the middle of the night if I didn't have to. I gave her all the information, and she told me that she would call all of the other midwives, and told me to sleep if I could, and if they got worse or changed, to call her back.

Michael and I decided that distraction was a good idea, because both of us were too excited and anxious to sleep, so we played Yahtzee until 11:30 p.m. or so. We went to bed, and I curled up with Michael and the contractions started spacing themselves out. Ten minutes apart. Then fifteen. I was sleeping between them, but then I'd have a contraction and it would wake me up and I would grab Michael's hand, which would wake him up, and he'd breathe through the contraction with me until it was over and I fell asleep again. It was a good system, and I think the sleep did me good. It did us both good.

At 12:30 a.m., interestingly just as it was becoming June, my contractions started picking up. They became stronger, and started waking me up every five minutes. In fact, I wasn't so much sleeping between them as I was zoning out. At 1:00 a.m., Michael gently suggested we call the midwives. I hesitated. I was still doubting that this was "it"! Maybe they would space out again between, like they had before, how did I know?

At 1:15 a.m., Michael was suggesting it more strongly, and after my next contraction, when I sat up and had to arch my back to keep the pressure off my lower back through it, I decided that it might be a good idea. He called them while I was in the bathroom, and I when I came out he said they were on their way. As soon as I knew that, I was somehow able to relax some more, which made the contractions seem a little more bearable. Of course, that made me think that maybe this wasn't really "it" and they would slow down or stop when they showed up! My fear was of being the little boy who cried wolf (or the woman who cried labor) but in the next forty-five minutes before they arrived, the contractions were coming regularly and were fairly intense, and I became pretty sure (finally!) that this baby was going to be born on June 1.

The midwives arrived at about 2:15 a.m, and of course wanted to check my progress, but I didn't want to move. Things were starting to pick up and it was becoming uncomfortable. I did anyway, of course, and she checked me both before a contraction (about 4 cm) and during a contraction (which hurt beyond belief, but I was 5-6 cm during) and after that, contractions seemed even closer together and were getting to an intensity I could barely remember from my other two births. Michael was having a hard time getting me to focus, and both of the midwives were giving pretty good directions (keep my voice low, relax my forehead, breathe, etc) and I tried hard to listen and follow their instructions, but things were getting fuzzy.

I have no idea how much time passed, but the pain went from "Wow, this really hurts" to "Oh my god, I'm going to die" so quickly that I didn't even have a chance to breathe. The midwives were still telling me to breathe through them, Michael was having me focus on his face, look into his eyes and breathe with him, and while everyone around me was saying how good I was doing, I felt like I was falling apart. Not only was I in pain, but suddenly I was really afraid. They had checked me at what felt like minutes ago, and I was only at 4, so these contractions couldn't possibly be as intense as they felt like they were, and I must just be acting like a baby. My fear (and of course I was doing the labor math in my head: this kind of intensity at 4 cm, times 1 cm per hour, that means at least 6 more hours like this?!) was that I couldn't possibly handle this much longer.

Then my water broke. I'd never felt that before. With both of my other births, my membranes had been artificially ruptured. I remembered the feeling, but this was different. This was pressure that broke the bag, and I said, "You guys, I think my water just broke" and oh my god, I remember contractions getting more intense after that in my previous births, but this was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. It felt as if the baby was coming, and not just coming, but coming right now!

I saw the midwives' faces, and the first question out of my mouth was, "Is there meconium?" She said, "Yes," and my heart sank. "A lot?" I asked. "A good amount," she said. They were setting up suction equipment, and I thought, well this is the thing, then. This is the thing that had to go wrong. Then, I couldn't think anything anymore. It all happened too fast. She decided to see how far along I was then, and she said, "Oh, you're a stretchy 7." Close to transition, then. I felt like I was dying.

The baby's head was now so low in my pelvis, I was starting to have the urge to push, but knew if I said anything they would tell me to breathe through it. I was afraid I couldn't do it anymore. Then they couldn't find heart tones. They were using the Doppler, but no matter where they put it, they couldn't find her. Finally, they heard something faintly, and thought that maybe the uterus was tipped too far back, so they wanted me on my hands and knees so that the uterus would tip forward and they could check it from underneath.

I was saying, "No, no" when she suggested it, but she was firm, and Michael helped flip me over I was amazed how good it felt to be on my hands and knees. The baby was low, really really low, but I was in so much pain that all I could do was grunt and moan. I had two contractions like that, while they were frantically checking for heart tones from underneath, and could feel myself starting to push through them, unable to stop.

The midwife had me flip back over and that's when I gasped and said, "The baby is right there!" She said, "Ok, I believe you," reaching for a glove, and suddenly I felt the familiar stretch and burn of the baby crowning. She was shocked and said, "There's a head!" Both Michael and I reached down to feel her head, wet and full of hair. They checked for a cord, and suctioned her there on the perineum because of the meconium.

As soon as her head was out, I was lucid again. One more little push and she was up on my belly. They suctioned her again, making sure to get any meconium out of her lungs. She was pale at first, but began to cry and pink up. She was born at 3:43 a.m.

I was shocked at how tiny she was! She was the smallest baby I'd ever seen, aside from a preemie. After the initial worry about her breathing (which was fine and clear from that point on), we slowly got to know her as I kept her warm on my belly and the midwives did what they needed to do, checking her, checking me, having me push to deliver the placenta (within about fifteen minutes after she was born). Blake, whose room is right across the hall, woke up when she began to cry. He came into our room, and I told him to go get Autumn. I was sorry they missed it, but we all nearly missed it, it went so quickly at the end! They were thrilled to see the baby, and crowded around to say hello to her.

She's a perfect little peanut, and looks just like Michael when he was a baby. I cleaned up while Michael held her, and then we settled back into bed and napped and snuggled for a half an hour or so while the midwives cleaned up and made some calls. They wanted her checked out by a doctor as soon as possible (which was standard practice for them anyway, but because of the meconium and because of her size, they were insistent that it be right away) so they made an appointment for us, and one of the midwives said she'd go with us.

Blake had gone back to bed, and Autumn was out helping the midwives prepare things. She was the biggest help to them, and is an even bigger help to me now. After the doctor checked her out and gave her a clean bill of health, I think we all relaxed a little bit. She weighed in at all of 5 pounds 3 ounces, which is slightly smaller than the minimum average (which is about 5 and a half pounds) and was 18 and a half inches long. Her head circumference was 12 and 3/4, which is on the small side and is probably why I had no second stage of labor. I didn't have to push her out, she just kind of slid right down the birth canal and into the world!

Her size is a mystery. The doctor said it could have been my blood pressure, which was borderline at the end, that may have effected placental function, and she may have been meant to be a small baby regardless. The good news is that she's healthy, and is nursing like a pro and hasn't left my arms (or someone's who loves her) since she was born.

I shudder to think what may have happened if we had delivered in a hospital. The meconium alone would have had her in the nursery for "observation" for 12 hours or so. Her size would have probably had her in the NICU, just as a precaution. It certainly could have been warranted. There are a lot of babies who are small who have a hard time holding their temperatures, who have hard times breathing. I was so grateful to be at home, with people who knew what to look for, who were willing to watch her and wait. She passed every test, and handled it all on her own, and they were satisfied with that and so was I. It was a relief and a blessing.

I can't tell you what a healing experience it was to have a baby in my own bed. In spite of the pain (which was much more intense, not only than I remember, but than I'd experienced before) and my fears of falling apart, which I would have had in or out of a hospital I imagine, I was able to have a positive birth experience, when I'm nearly 100% sure that it would have been a snowball of interventions in a medical setting that probably would have traumatized me, the baby, and my husband. I felt confident that although there were things we had to take seriously and pay attention to, the midwives would respect the normal process, and trust in my body and the baby's, and they did. It was a gift, a blessing, and a truly amazing experience for all of us.

Dmitri's Birth Story

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*****

Dmitrios Aleksandr
July 31, 2002
1:19 p.m.
9 lbs 6 oz
20 inches long
14 inch head & 15 inch chest

Our birth story:

All last night I dreamed I was having contractions. I would wake, and feel my uterus just beginning to let go of gripping me, and fall back asleep to dream of those waves again, going under and coming back up. I don’t think I woke to every contraction… just the “bigger” ones. But by 5 a.m. on July 31st, I was awake and pretty sure that going back to sleep wasn’t going to be an option! Michael woke and asked if I was having contractions and I reluctantly admitted that I was. We talked and cuddled a little while. I was feeling apprehensive about starting this process. I knew it was going to hurt and I knew it was going to be hard. I’d experienced labor just a little over a year ago with our daughter, Zoe, and here I was facing the journey again. I was also afraid of back labor, something I’d heard about and had supported other women through as a doula, but had never experienced myself. The baby was still posterior (and still kicking me up high during contractions between my ribs!) I didn’t want a long, drawn out labor. Could I really do this? Michael held me for a while and helped me get centered. He made a lot of sense when he said that it was better to get into a good mindset now, even if it wasn’t the “real thing.” That was always my fear, being the “woman who cried labor.” I didn’t want to alert anyone too early. Zoe, our 1-year-old, woke up around 6:30 a.m, and when I tried to roll over onto my right side, the pain was much more intense and sharp, so I decided to get up and take a bath. Water always felt so good for me during early labor. I spent an hour or so there, submerged as I could get, with a candle lit, breathing, breathing, feeling my belly rise with each contraction. I practiced the “breath awarness” that I’d learned from Birthing Within. I didn’t anticipate the next contraction, I simply noticed by breath during contractions and floated between. I wasn’t aware of time passing, but things were getting more intense. Oh yeah, I remembered what this felt like. This was definitely the real thing. I gave Michael some time to get Zoe settled back to sleep and told him to start calling everyone. “So it’s pretty imminent, huh?” he asked from outside the bathroom door. I smiled. “We’re having a baby today,” I replied.

By 8 a.m. I was out of the tub, feeling clean and good, and still having contractions. Our doula (one of them) showed up, and was very helpful feeding me, getting me to drink, having me up to use the bathroom. Her hands were fantastic, her words encouraging. She reminded me of the baby all of the time, something I always forget during my births as the sensations take me over, and I would focus on him, imagining his descent, his journey parallel with my own. I was on my left side for a long time (strangely, my right side, especially just above my pelvis, hurt a LOT, and we didn’t know why at the time. Speculation was that it could have been an arm or hand pressing there, but we couldn’t feel anything when we massaged, and later it was just too tender to touch) curled up against Michael with a pillow between my legs, and my doula curled up behind me, both of them stroking me, talking to me, reminding me to take them just one…. at…. a…. time…. I didn’t feel out of control, although I felt things starting to intensify over time. It was here that all of the breath awareness that I’d learned from Birthing From Within really helped. Staying present, grounded, centered, in the moment. There was no time, nothing else existed but these waves, rising and falling in my belly.

Another of our doulas suggested a bathroom break, and a hot water bottle on my back. My midwives arrived and the baby sounded wonderful, my blood pressure was good, and they didn’t need to do a vaginal exam. (I had requested minimal exams, if any, and didn’t want to know how far dilated I was because it has too much of a psychological effect on me. I start doing labor-math, figuring out how much longer I might be at this, and things seem to just fall apart!) They helped me labor, too, and the words “sink into it… good… relax your shoulders… perfect… you are sooo strong…” still echo in my head. They were incredibly encouraging, buoying me up wave after wave.I could hear Zoe in the other room, which was a distraction… my baby wanted her mommy! I had to remind myself that I needed to stay focused on my belly-baby. Thankfully, my mom soon arrived to keep an eye on her and my father also showed up! I was surprised when heard his voice. It gave me a moment’s pause but then I sank back into labor. At that point, Santa Claus could have arrived and I wouldn’t have cared! I was pretty lost in laborland by then, and getting excellent rest between contractions. I actually fell asleep after some of them, as did Michael. He would wake when I grabbed his hand or shirt and I started that deep, deep cleansing first breath. By this time, the room had been cleared of most people except our midwives now and then, and Michael and I labored together, moaned together. A few times, I couldn’t bear to be in bed anymore and would get up and labor standing, which hurt more, ohhhh wow did it hurt more, but I could feel the baby start moving down and down. The pressure was getting intense. I would hold our footboard and rock, rock, rock my hips lower and lower and was nearly squatting by the time each contraction peaked and then I would rock my way back up again and lean over the footboard and rest until the next wave. When I couldn’t stand the pressure any longer, I’d crawl back into bed again.

People came in and out, with quiet suggestions, encouraging words, soft hands. Our photographer snapped labor pictures from the corner. I was really just lost. It hurt a lot during contractions, I could feel my head spinning sometimes, and I would moan low and loud. A few times I could hear Zoe in the other room imitating me! That made me smile, even during contractions. But I didn’t feel panic or fear, which I was grateful for, and I didn’t experience back labor, just that strange pain in my lower belly that no one could account for which made leaning forward for hands and knees positions unbearable, along with that feeling of my body and cervix opening wider, wider, widest, as the baby moved down and down and down.

The midwives did check me once per my request but I didn’t want to know the “number.” I wanted her to feel for the sutures and see if baby was still posterior. She said my cervix was “like butter,” nice and open, baby was very, very low and either LOP or ROA. I found out later that at the time I was 7-8 cm (Michael couldn’t resist asking after he was born!) but I was still taking them just one at a time. The hands and knees suggestion came up again, and I said I’d try it. It worked for two contractions, although “worked” is relative, because the pain it caused was so incredibly intense. I suddenly felt like pushing and couldn’t help bearing down a little… POP! My water broke, not a huge gush, because baby’s head was so low. And getting lower every minute! That feeling of fullness and stretching began. I rolled over to my side.

Suddenly the room was a flurry of activity. I said, “Check me, I want to make sure its ok to push!” The midwife grabbed a glove but before she could reach in, I was pushing HARD. There was no way I could stop it. It would have been like stopping a freight train by holding your hand against it! She said, “Ok, baby’s head is right here.” But I knew that already. He was there all right. I called for the kids to come in, and the room flooded with people. He felt so BIG as I pushed, and with that push he was right on my perineum. Then came the burning sensation. I was saying, “It burns, it burns!” and they said, “Breathe through it,” His head felt huge, and I could actually feel bone against bone as he moved under and out. Someone showed me in a mirror, and I felt his wet, slippery scalp with my hand. My baby!! Pushing his head out was harder than any of my other births had been, and when his hand came out next to his face we knew why, and there was a good explanation for that strange pain on my lower right-hand side, probably his elbow digging in there! His head was out, but still there was that feeling of incredible fullness and I pushed again, and felt every part of him as he slipped out of me. What a relief! I pulled him up to my chest, and actually laughed. He seemed enormous to me, covered in vernix and starting to cry. He looked like a little sumo wrestler!

There were a few minutes when the midwives worried about bleeding and gave me some herbal remedies. Bleeding slowed, thankfully, and the placenta delivered in half an hour. That, too, seemed enormous to me. Michael said a blessing and cut the baby’s cord with his knife after it stopped pulsing, and then we cut off the twine bracelets we’d braided and had been wearing since my Blessingway ceremony. My perineum stung a bit, but no real tears, just a “skid mark.” Baby nursed within 15 minutes, perfect latch, and didn’t stop for an hour, when we got up to take our herbal bath. That was incredible, looking at him over my deflated belly, floating supported by my hands, submerged in water except for his eyes, nose and mouth. His eyes were wide open and curious. I fell in love.

After the newborn exam, (9lbs 6 oz, almost twice the size of my last baby!) slowly, people said goodbye and left. By 4:30 p.m., we were cuddled in bed together becoming a family of six. Autumn and Blake clamored to hold him. Zoe wanted mommy and I cuddled her and introduced her to the new baby. As I write this, he is nursing vigorously and is a little over 8 hours old. I can’t believe he’s here, that I’m not pregnant anymore, that all those months of waiting, planning, wondering, are over. What a journey it’s been… what an incredible journey we are about to begin.

Insomnia

I can sleep through a nuclear explosion. The only time in my life I've slept lightly was right after I had my babies, and that was only when they were sleeping right next to me. Then, I seemed strangely connected to them. I'd wake up and look at the clock and note the time: 2:12 a.m., and think, "What am I doing awake!?" and then the baby would stir. Not cry... just stir a little. Hungry, ready to nurse. Nature is amazing.

But now that I'm old (shut up, thirty-seven happens to feel very old lately, okay?) and don't have little hungry babies to wake up for, I sleep like a rock. The problem is, when I do wake up, I'm UP. I even fight having to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night because I know once I get out of bed, I won't be able to get back to sleep. If something manages to wake me up and I actually have to get out of bed, I know I'm in trouble. I won't be able to get back to sleep, usually for at least an hour, maybe more.

It's funny because, as a doula, when I was doing births, I could sleep anywhere, almost instantly, and I could fall back asleep within minutes if I was awakened for some reason. When you have a job that requires you to be wide awake at two in the morning at the ring of the phone, it was quite a boon to be able to sleep whenever, wherever, however.

However, with one exception (a lovely home birth just before we moved here) I haven't done a birth in a year. I got quite burned out after doing six births in a month and decided to take a break. The break turned into a BREAK. Now, just I don't know. As much as I love doing births, that's about as much as I hate being on-call. And my family hates it even more.

But lately I've had time to wonder what this waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to go back to sleep is all about, because Dmitri's been going through a 'bout of nightmares, and I inevitably end up awake, tossing and turning and unable to go back to sleep long after he's snoozing in flying-dinosaur-monster dreamland again.

I guess this waking up and not being able to get back to sleep is called "late waking insomnia" or some such thing. I call it damned annoying. But I'm beginning to wonder if maybe it isn't related to my not doing births anymore? Maybe my ability to sleep was part of being a doula, knowing I had to get as much sleep as I could, as fast as possible, because I might be up for the next 24 hours at a birth?

Whatever the reason, whether it's age or job-related or something else entirely--I really wish it would go away. Sleep is one of my greatest pleasures in life. I hate not being able to sleep.