My friend Shlomit asked me to post the following:
"Somehow, who he F*** knows how, my entire blog is GONE!!!! GONE!!!!
I finally posted yesterday after two months and as of this afternoon it is gone. Grrrr.
Anyway, would you mind posting on your blog that I haven't fallen off the face of the earth; I'm still here. If I can get up the energy I will start a new blog at http://www.facebook.com/1/ab0da;www.yourestillyoung.blogspot.com "
*the link doesn't seem to work, but that's what she gave me.
That's right from the woman's mouth herself. (You know it has to be, I would never swear with asteriks! ;) )
Around here life has sort of gotten in the way of blogging. Which, post IF, I guess is a good thing. We are doing great, and Sacha is the most delightful little 19 month old. Somehow it doesn't feel right to go on and on here.
But... I also don't feel like I want to close up shot around here yet. I figure I may need this space for IF related issues to come. Like, say, if we um go for a number 2. The issue of which is off the table until the new year, but it isn't completely off my mind. There are so many factors involved with having another child, not the least of which is having to return to the clinic.
So... you are not rid of me yet. Cue ominous music (it IS Halloween and all!)
Please know that even if I don't comment often I AM still reading and thinking about you all.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Oh! Thanks for validating me! Really, I'm only coming back to blog because I love the comments.
Ok- kidding.
Sort of.
Anyways, let's move on to the heart of the matter. The post part of the post, if you will.
Can we play catch-up? Let's! Why don't I first tell you about Sacha in all his almost-sixteen-months glory, and then I'll tell you about me.
All about Sacha in 7 points:
Sleeping: At 11 months or so we did some massive sleep training, which was not for the faint of heart. It has 6 days of hell, but pretty much since then Sacha has slept through the night. Though the guy likes to wake up early- 5 or 5:30 on a regular basis, and 4:30 if he wants us to have a specially good day. He still naps two times a day on good days. Morning naps are an hour and a half to two hours. Afternoon naps range from 20 minutes to an hour and a half (or... not at all). On the days when he doesn't fall asleep in the afternoon I contemplate cutting out the morning nap and re-adjusting his schedule. Maybe soon.
Eating: While Sacha used to eat everything under the sun, it seems that each day there is a food that he decides that he will no longer eat. The foods that he will eat are becoming more limited, and I am having to be more creative in order to get him to eat some veggies. I have made up my mind that once I plan my meal for him, that is what he is getting, and if he doesn't like it, and chooses not to eat most of it, he will just have to wait to until the next meal for food. (Of course i plan meals around what foods are in favour for the time being- I am not that cruel!) I have concluded that he definitely eats when he is hungry, and I am not in danger of having a malnourished or starving child.
Drinking: Can we say hallelujah? Sacha drinks all his milk from a cup, and we have cut out almost all breastfeeding. (There are about 2-3 times a weeks where he just pulls and pulls at my shirt and bra, and I don't have the heart to refuse him. Not that there is much left in the boobs...) The sippy cup was not a hit in our household, and what finally helped make the transition from breast to cup was a specific one with a straw from Playtex (the only one that he will use!) Liquids are still an issue, though, as Sacha drinks very little water, and is not too fond of juice either.
Personality: Sacha is a happy, smiley, giggly guy. Everything makes him laugh. Even when he falls, he laughs. He is easy going and adaptable (traits he certainly did not get from me!), and doesn't complain too much. He plays well on his own, and for extended periods of time, too. And he knows how to make a joke and poke fun- it's hilarious to see him try to communicate this way with us.
Development: Sacha has met his milestones pretty much on a textbook level. He took his first step about 2 weeks after his birthday. But, being the cautious guy that he is he wasn't anywhere near "walking" until 7 or 8 weeks later! While he babbles like a madman and is very expressive, he doesn't use any words yet. I know this is a bit late, but I'm trying not to worry. We speak 2 languages at home, and he is exposed to a third on a regular basis.
Sacha Loves: The park- the slides, swings and sand. Water- both baths and swimming. Giving hugs- to people and to stuffed animals. Riding in his stroller and observing the world. Coming to bed with Mommy and Papa in the morning and sitting on our faces. Unfortunately he also like to bite (but only the people that he loves)- I have tried many things but can't seem to curb the enthusiasm.
Sacha Hates: The grass, getting his hands dirty on the grass, having to walk on the grass. (Funny, he seems to have no problem falling face-first, mouth open into a filthy sandbox!) Umm... he is also not fond of being ignored when he wants to be picked up. (But what kid isn't?!)
Oy- this is longer than I intended! I think that I will post now, and save all the enthralling items about myself for the next post.
I do do do feel bad that my first post back to my IF blog has been all about my baby! It's a hard thing I tell you- I want to tell you all about Sacha, but having been there, in that deep childless despair, I don't feel quite right going on and on about my baby. Over a year later I am still struggling with where this blog would go (and that's pretty much primarily why I didn't post for so long...)
Hence- more about me next time. Promise!
Ok- kidding.
Sort of.
Anyways, let's move on to the heart of the matter. The post part of the post, if you will.
Can we play catch-up? Let's! Why don't I first tell you about Sacha in all his almost-sixteen-months glory, and then I'll tell you about me.
All about Sacha in 7 points:
Sleeping: At 11 months or so we did some massive sleep training, which was not for the faint of heart. It has 6 days of hell, but pretty much since then Sacha has slept through the night. Though the guy likes to wake up early- 5 or 5:30 on a regular basis, and 4:30 if he wants us to have a specially good day. He still naps two times a day on good days. Morning naps are an hour and a half to two hours. Afternoon naps range from 20 minutes to an hour and a half (or... not at all). On the days when he doesn't fall asleep in the afternoon I contemplate cutting out the morning nap and re-adjusting his schedule. Maybe soon.
Eating: While Sacha used to eat everything under the sun, it seems that each day there is a food that he decides that he will no longer eat. The foods that he will eat are becoming more limited, and I am having to be more creative in order to get him to eat some veggies. I have made up my mind that once I plan my meal for him, that is what he is getting, and if he doesn't like it, and chooses not to eat most of it, he will just have to wait to until the next meal for food. (Of course i plan meals around what foods are in favour for the time being- I am not that cruel!) I have concluded that he definitely eats when he is hungry, and I am not in danger of having a malnourished or starving child.
Drinking: Can we say hallelujah? Sacha drinks all his milk from a cup, and we have cut out almost all breastfeeding. (There are about 2-3 times a weeks where he just pulls and pulls at my shirt and bra, and I don't have the heart to refuse him. Not that there is much left in the boobs...) The sippy cup was not a hit in our household, and what finally helped make the transition from breast to cup was a specific one with a straw from Playtex (the only one that he will use!) Liquids are still an issue, though, as Sacha drinks very little water, and is not too fond of juice either.
Personality: Sacha is a happy, smiley, giggly guy. Everything makes him laugh. Even when he falls, he laughs. He is easy going and adaptable (traits he certainly did not get from me!), and doesn't complain too much. He plays well on his own, and for extended periods of time, too. And he knows how to make a joke and poke fun- it's hilarious to see him try to communicate this way with us.
Development: Sacha has met his milestones pretty much on a textbook level. He took his first step about 2 weeks after his birthday. But, being the cautious guy that he is he wasn't anywhere near "walking" until 7 or 8 weeks later! While he babbles like a madman and is very expressive, he doesn't use any words yet. I know this is a bit late, but I'm trying not to worry. We speak 2 languages at home, and he is exposed to a third on a regular basis.
Sacha Loves: The park- the slides, swings and sand. Water- both baths and swimming. Giving hugs- to people and to stuffed animals. Riding in his stroller and observing the world. Coming to bed with Mommy and Papa in the morning and sitting on our faces. Unfortunately he also like to bite (but only the people that he loves)- I have tried many things but can't seem to curb the enthusiasm.
Sacha Hates: The grass, getting his hands dirty on the grass, having to walk on the grass. (Funny, he seems to have no problem falling face-first, mouth open into a filthy sandbox!) Umm... he is also not fond of being ignored when he wants to be picked up. (But what kid isn't?!)
Oy- this is longer than I intended! I think that I will post now, and save all the enthralling items about myself for the next post.
I do do do feel bad that my first post back to my IF blog has been all about my baby! It's a hard thing I tell you- I want to tell you all about Sacha, but having been there, in that deep childless despair, I don't feel quite right going on and on about my baby. Over a year later I am still struggling with where this blog would go (and that's pretty much primarily why I didn't post for so long...)
Hence- more about me next time. Promise!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
BACK
Ok- I have to end this hiatus sometime or another.
People, I am back.
There is no "real" reason for why I left you for so long (and truthfully I didn't really leave- I have tried so hard to comment and keep in touch), but I promise to never do so again.
Hey... before I go write a long post about what been going on... is there anyone even reading? Please drop me a comment to let me know you're there. You know, give some incentive to come back again.
Oh, all is well here. We are all fine, and Sacha is just being his super duper toddler self. I'll be back in a jiffy with more tales.
People, I am back.
There is no "real" reason for why I left you for so long (and truthfully I didn't really leave- I have tried so hard to comment and keep in touch), but I promise to never do so again.
Hey... before I go write a long post about what been going on... is there anyone even reading? Please drop me a comment to let me know you're there. You know, give some incentive to come back again.
Oh, all is well here. We are all fine, and Sacha is just being his super duper toddler self. I'll be back in a jiffy with more tales.
Monday, April 06, 2009
BIRTH STORY
I wrote these notes a day or so after we got home from the hospital as a family of 3. I have added to it over the past few days. It was been unbelievable to recall all the details of the day Sacha was born. As I kept writing I remembered more and more. So this is a little long. But I'm glad I finally have it up here.
The tale of labour is long (both in story terms and in terms of time), but I feel that I have to get some details down whole they are still fresh in my mind...
- On Friday I went for my NST and fluid check as planned. Everything was the same as on Tuesday, but my doctor still thought it would be best to deliver sooner rather than later.
- My doctor was in the hospital on Friday and after meeting with her (unscheduled, and right away), she took us by the hand to the birthing centre. We were standing at the nurses’ station in L&D. My doctor told me the following story: A woman at my stage of pregnancy was in the very same situation the previous Friday afternoon. She decided not to be induced that day, but to wait for another NST on Sunday in order to make her decision. When the woman came in on Sunday (and I quote) “her baby was dead”. This was obviously very upsetting to me, and it did the trick. To this day I feel like I was emotionally blackmailed into being induced on the hospital’s schedule.
-We decided to start the induction process with a catheter. It was inserted, and we were sent home until it fell out.
- At home I rested (and did some work), and 3.5 hours later it fell out (meaning I was at 3cm dilation). I called the hospital and was told to return. We got there at 6pm. I called my doula (Rivka) and she told me she would arrive at 11pm, unless she heard otherwise from me (it would be hard to contact her as Shabbat had started and the only means of communication would be me calling and leaving a message that she could hear on her answering machine as I left it.)
- After I was checked (and confirmed at 3cm), I realized I was having fairly regular, but mild contractions on my own. I asked the resident if perhaps I could just see what happens, and she agreed. A whole kerfuffle erupted because I was booked for an induction. One of the nurses (I'm not sure if she was the head nurse or not), came barging in telling me basically that my doctor and I had already put them out because we were requesting an induction heading into the weekend. I will, at some point, write an entire post about this, but this morning I just don't have it in me. (Obviously I didn’t ever write an entire post about this!) I was told I would have to sign all types of forms and legal crap if I now chose not to do as I has discussed with my physician. Needless to say, I chose to start the Pitocin. Man, that was horrible. Again, not another highlight in the story of the birth of my wonderful baby! I shudder at it now… the nurses yelling, be crying, my husband trying to calm me down. The confusion, the emotion, the fear: my baby might die if I don’t do as they say! Oy vey.
- The Pitocin was administered, and elevated appropriately, and my contractions were getting stronger, but bearable. I didn't want to lay down as I knew that perhaps I would be on my back for a long period of time later on. I was happy when my doula and her student arrived at 11, the entire experience changed. I recounted what happened earlier, and she helped me set my mind to continue most positively from here on in.
- Sometime around midnight another check revealed that I was at 4.5cm. A little progress, but not much...
- Encouraged, I laboured on (while The C caught some z's). My doula provided all the support I possibly could have dreamed of and more. There are not enough amazing words for me to say about her and her practices. She helped me through 14 hours of Pitocin-induced, pain-med-free overnight labour before I started crying about the pain.
- I now know that I was experiencing some very severe back labour. My back was raw from all the rubbing. I remember labouring mostly on the birthing ball, which was amazing. I was able to squat and ride out the contractions with my head down, a position that seemed to work for me. My labour through the night was very quiet and calm. The lights were low, there were few interruptions from medical staff, and my music choices were playing in the background keeping my mind busy between contractions. This is still surprising to me today as I am definitely the calm, quiet type. I always pictured my labour to be loud with lots of swearing.
- At 8am, when I was still 5cm dilated I made the choice to call for an epidural. I didn't freak out about this choice. With the help of my doula and The C I felt I was making the best choice for me, the baby and a safe, vaginal delivery.
- At 9am the anaesthetist showed up.
(Up until here is all I ever jotted down about my birth story. The rest of it has been in my head for an entire year. I will attempt to get it out.)
- The anaesthetist was a card. It turns out that we grew up a few streets from each other and were both surprised that we had never met before. He was truly amazing. He kept me occupied talking about my tattoo and the various tattoos that he sees while doing his job. I was scared as shit to be getting the epidural, but I have to give this guy kudos for making it as enjoyable as possible.
- The epidural took well, thank goodness. The best part of this was that I got pain relief but I never entirely lost all feeling in my legs. (Though I certainly couldn’t have gotten up for a walk.) Two things surprised me: how uncomfortable the catheter was and how disgusting it felt when they broke my water. Ew is all I can think of now… sitting in the warm puddle of fluid.
- My doula thought it best that I take this time to rest. She too went home for some sleep, but told me shoe would be back the second I needed her (she lives about a 5 minute walk from the hospital.) Finally I at around 11 I was able to drift off to sleep. Though my sleep was fitful at best, at 2:30pm or so I woke up feeling seriously refreshed. (I laugh now: little did I know that this would be my last good chunk of sleep for weeks and months to come!)
- I don’t remember much about the what happened for the next 2 hours. I know the resident (who I did NOT take a liking too, he was very rough) came to check me and I wasn’t dilated much more… maybe 6cm. It was almost 24 hours and it seemed like nothing was happening.
- The dreaded words went through my head: 'c-section'. When I asked the nurse, she conceded that given what was going one this was a possibility at this point. Not only was nothing happening, it certainly wasn’t going the way that I had hoped. I had wanted a medication-free, monitor-free, tube-free birth. I pretty much knew I could kiss that goodbye when I chose the induction (er, was scared into the induction), but now I was becoming a classic induction case that was going to end in the operating room.
- Still, though, with each contraction I continued my visualization of my cervix opening.
- At around 4pm my doula returned. Have I mentioned that I love her? Have I? We caught up on what was going on, and she assured me that we weren’t at the point of a c-section yet. She would continue to labour with me as long as I needed, and not allow any crazy hospital timing get in my way of a vaginal birth.
- About a half an hour later I started to feel something different. All of a sudden it seemed like something was happening. When I described it to my doula she told me that it seemed like I was getting ready to push. I don’t remember if the doctor came in or if we called her, but I was checked and it was confirmed that in this short time I had dilated completely.
- At the time, I honestly thought it was a miracle. I remember Rivka turning to me and saying 'Well you are going to have tour Shabbat baby after all.'
- The next two hours happened very fast and in slow motion at the same time. There was another woman pushing at this time, and every time she pushed she made these horrible loud moans and screams that echoed terribly down the hallway. It was most awful to listen to knowing that I was going to be pushing in just a few minutes. Also, it seemed to me that she was pushing forever. We found out that this woman was delivering a breech baby vaginally. (Oy vey!) This worked in my favour as it meant that all the nurses, the doctor and the residents were in her room to help or to witness this once in their lifetime opportunity.
- My room was quiet and peaceful, and I was ready to push my baby into the world.
- Again, I surprised myself. I thought I would be a loud, screaming, swearing pusher. Not to sound all froo froo on you, but it was like an aura of serenity passed over me. Each time it came to push I just did what I had to do. Granted there was plenty of grunting going on, but it was calm grunting!
- After the first few pushes (lasting about half an hour), I realized this was going to take a while. My labour was took it’s sweet time, and so it seemed it was going to be with the pushing. I really felt like I needed to know how long the pushing was going to take. Of course no one could tell me! But my husband was on one side and my doula on the other, and I felt like I had all the support in the world. One push at a time, Rivka told me.
- Between each contraction I tried to recoup my energy. I was hot and itchy beyond belief. I can still picture myself lying on the bed sweaty and naked and scratching, scratching, scratching at my chest. About an hour into pushing we heard the breech baby in the other room being born. (If there was one thing that I would recommend to the hospital- aside from better bedside manner from the nurse who I had to deal with when I came in- it would be thicker, more sound-proof walls. There is nothing as unnerving as hearing another woman labouring knowing that that will be you in the next hour or so!)
- At last, after an hour and a bit of pushing, the baby’s head was starting to crown. I swear I have never seen my husband so excited. He kept going down to the foot of the bed to have a look! There were mirrors on the ceiling in my room so that I could see what was going on, but I was too scared to look. There are times that I wish that I had, but I know that I could have, I would have at the time. If there is another baby, I certainly will think about looking at this miraculous moment!
- And so, at an hour and a half of pushing, my baby was ready to be born. As everyone and his uncle was still attending to the breech baby, there had been no one in my room for over an hour, and no one there to catch the baby! (A doula isn’t legally allowed to catch a baby.) Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled to be able to have my calm surroundings without doctors and nurses rushing in and out and shoving their hands hither and nither. But, it was time for a doctor now…
- Rivka instructed my husband to press the button to call the nurse. (Quite calmly, I recall, though now I know that she was literally getting into position to catch this baby. He took his time in coming, but was ready in an instant! I do remember her taking out some rubber gloves.) Which button did my husband push? The code blue button. Boy did that get people into our room fast. Of course within a second everyone realized there was no code, but they did realize there was a baby about to be born! There wasn’t even time to get the bed prepped and just a second to put the plastic stuff that they put out.
- Then, in one push, out came my son’s head. And one more push, the rest of his body.
- Exactly as I wanted, my baby was placed immediately on my chest. He was a little bloody, but surprisingly clean. He was crying a little high pitched cry, a little annoyed to be removed from his warm and cozy womb.
- His crying didn’t last long, though. He had better things to attend to. He had people to see, places to look at. He was so alert, lifting his head and peering around at everything with his huge eyes. This guy was certainly ready to meet the world.
- Surprisingly, I didn’t cry. I just kept looking at the baby in my arms and saying “Oh my god, oh my god”. I think I was in disbelief that I had actually gotten pregnant, carried my baby safely to term (and 11 days past!), and made it through labour. And there I was, holding my baby.
- My husband kept kissing me, and stroking the baby. He was in complete awe of the little creature.
- We tried putting the baby to the breast, and we had a little success. He was definitely rooting, looking around for his source of nourishment.
- All the while, I was instructed to push to deliver the placenta, and I was being stitched up in the two places that I tore on my labia (thank goodness there was no episiotomy, I kept thinking). One thing I remember vividly is how much the injection of local aesthetic that they had to use to numb we for the stitches hurt.
- The hour or so after the birth was such a flurry of activity. When the cord stopped pulsing, my husband cut it. The baby was weighed, cleaned up, and checked out. He was pronounced perfect. All the while I was being cleaned and I somehow got into a hospital gown.
- The baby was put back in my arms, and my parents and grandmother came in to see us. I look back at those pictures now I think I look amazingly good for someone who just went through 26 hours of labour.
- A few minutes later I was rolled into the post-partum ward. It was about 9 o’clock at night. If I thought I had had sleepless night before the baby was born…
- The rest, as they say, is history.
The tale of labour is long (both in story terms and in terms of time), but I feel that I have to get some details down whole they are still fresh in my mind...
- On Friday I went for my NST and fluid check as planned. Everything was the same as on Tuesday, but my doctor still thought it would be best to deliver sooner rather than later.
- My doctor was in the hospital on Friday and after meeting with her (unscheduled, and right away), she took us by the hand to the birthing centre. We were standing at the nurses’ station in L&D. My doctor told me the following story: A woman at my stage of pregnancy was in the very same situation the previous Friday afternoon. She decided not to be induced that day, but to wait for another NST on Sunday in order to make her decision. When the woman came in on Sunday (and I quote) “her baby was dead”. This was obviously very upsetting to me, and it did the trick. To this day I feel like I was emotionally blackmailed into being induced on the hospital’s schedule.
-We decided to start the induction process with a catheter. It was inserted, and we were sent home until it fell out.
- At home I rested (and did some work), and 3.5 hours later it fell out (meaning I was at 3cm dilation). I called the hospital and was told to return. We got there at 6pm. I called my doula (Rivka) and she told me she would arrive at 11pm, unless she heard otherwise from me (it would be hard to contact her as Shabbat had started and the only means of communication would be me calling and leaving a message that she could hear on her answering machine as I left it.)
- After I was checked (and confirmed at 3cm), I realized I was having fairly regular, but mild contractions on my own. I asked the resident if perhaps I could just see what happens, and she agreed. A whole kerfuffle erupted because I was booked for an induction. One of the nurses (I'm not sure if she was the head nurse or not), came barging in telling me basically that my doctor and I had already put them out because we were requesting an induction heading into the weekend. I will, at some point, write an entire post about this, but this morning I just don't have it in me. (Obviously I didn’t ever write an entire post about this!) I was told I would have to sign all types of forms and legal crap if I now chose not to do as I has discussed with my physician. Needless to say, I chose to start the Pitocin. Man, that was horrible. Again, not another highlight in the story of the birth of my wonderful baby! I shudder at it now… the nurses yelling, be crying, my husband trying to calm me down. The confusion, the emotion, the fear: my baby might die if I don’t do as they say! Oy vey.
- The Pitocin was administered, and elevated appropriately, and my contractions were getting stronger, but bearable. I didn't want to lay down as I knew that perhaps I would be on my back for a long period of time later on. I was happy when my doula and her student arrived at 11, the entire experience changed. I recounted what happened earlier, and she helped me set my mind to continue most positively from here on in.
- Sometime around midnight another check revealed that I was at 4.5cm. A little progress, but not much...
- Encouraged, I laboured on (while The C caught some z's). My doula provided all the support I possibly could have dreamed of and more. There are not enough amazing words for me to say about her and her practices. She helped me through 14 hours of Pitocin-induced, pain-med-free overnight labour before I started crying about the pain.
- I now know that I was experiencing some very severe back labour. My back was raw from all the rubbing. I remember labouring mostly on the birthing ball, which was amazing. I was able to squat and ride out the contractions with my head down, a position that seemed to work for me. My labour through the night was very quiet and calm. The lights were low, there were few interruptions from medical staff, and my music choices were playing in the background keeping my mind busy between contractions. This is still surprising to me today as I am definitely the calm, quiet type. I always pictured my labour to be loud with lots of swearing.
- At 8am, when I was still 5cm dilated I made the choice to call for an epidural. I didn't freak out about this choice. With the help of my doula and The C I felt I was making the best choice for me, the baby and a safe, vaginal delivery.
- At 9am the anaesthetist showed up.
(Up until here is all I ever jotted down about my birth story. The rest of it has been in my head for an entire year. I will attempt to get it out.)
- The anaesthetist was a card. It turns out that we grew up a few streets from each other and were both surprised that we had never met before. He was truly amazing. He kept me occupied talking about my tattoo and the various tattoos that he sees while doing his job. I was scared as shit to be getting the epidural, but I have to give this guy kudos for making it as enjoyable as possible.
- The epidural took well, thank goodness. The best part of this was that I got pain relief but I never entirely lost all feeling in my legs. (Though I certainly couldn’t have gotten up for a walk.) Two things surprised me: how uncomfortable the catheter was and how disgusting it felt when they broke my water. Ew is all I can think of now… sitting in the warm puddle of fluid.
- My doula thought it best that I take this time to rest. She too went home for some sleep, but told me shoe would be back the second I needed her (she lives about a 5 minute walk from the hospital.) Finally I at around 11 I was able to drift off to sleep. Though my sleep was fitful at best, at 2:30pm or so I woke up feeling seriously refreshed. (I laugh now: little did I know that this would be my last good chunk of sleep for weeks and months to come!)
- I don’t remember much about the what happened for the next 2 hours. I know the resident (who I did NOT take a liking too, he was very rough) came to check me and I wasn’t dilated much more… maybe 6cm. It was almost 24 hours and it seemed like nothing was happening.
- The dreaded words went through my head: 'c-section'. When I asked the nurse, she conceded that given what was going one this was a possibility at this point. Not only was nothing happening, it certainly wasn’t going the way that I had hoped. I had wanted a medication-free, monitor-free, tube-free birth. I pretty much knew I could kiss that goodbye when I chose the induction (er, was scared into the induction), but now I was becoming a classic induction case that was going to end in the operating room.
- Still, though, with each contraction I continued my visualization of my cervix opening.
- At around 4pm my doula returned. Have I mentioned that I love her? Have I? We caught up on what was going on, and she assured me that we weren’t at the point of a c-section yet. She would continue to labour with me as long as I needed, and not allow any crazy hospital timing get in my way of a vaginal birth.
- About a half an hour later I started to feel something different. All of a sudden it seemed like something was happening. When I described it to my doula she told me that it seemed like I was getting ready to push. I don’t remember if the doctor came in or if we called her, but I was checked and it was confirmed that in this short time I had dilated completely.
- At the time, I honestly thought it was a miracle. I remember Rivka turning to me and saying 'Well you are going to have tour Shabbat baby after all.'
- The next two hours happened very fast and in slow motion at the same time. There was another woman pushing at this time, and every time she pushed she made these horrible loud moans and screams that echoed terribly down the hallway. It was most awful to listen to knowing that I was going to be pushing in just a few minutes. Also, it seemed to me that she was pushing forever. We found out that this woman was delivering a breech baby vaginally. (Oy vey!) This worked in my favour as it meant that all the nurses, the doctor and the residents were in her room to help or to witness this once in their lifetime opportunity.
- My room was quiet and peaceful, and I was ready to push my baby into the world.
- Again, I surprised myself. I thought I would be a loud, screaming, swearing pusher. Not to sound all froo froo on you, but it was like an aura of serenity passed over me. Each time it came to push I just did what I had to do. Granted there was plenty of grunting going on, but it was calm grunting!
- After the first few pushes (lasting about half an hour), I realized this was going to take a while. My labour was took it’s sweet time, and so it seemed it was going to be with the pushing. I really felt like I needed to know how long the pushing was going to take. Of course no one could tell me! But my husband was on one side and my doula on the other, and I felt like I had all the support in the world. One push at a time, Rivka told me.
- Between each contraction I tried to recoup my energy. I was hot and itchy beyond belief. I can still picture myself lying on the bed sweaty and naked and scratching, scratching, scratching at my chest. About an hour into pushing we heard the breech baby in the other room being born. (If there was one thing that I would recommend to the hospital- aside from better bedside manner from the nurse who I had to deal with when I came in- it would be thicker, more sound-proof walls. There is nothing as unnerving as hearing another woman labouring knowing that that will be you in the next hour or so!)
- At last, after an hour and a bit of pushing, the baby’s head was starting to crown. I swear I have never seen my husband so excited. He kept going down to the foot of the bed to have a look! There were mirrors on the ceiling in my room so that I could see what was going on, but I was too scared to look. There are times that I wish that I had, but I know that I could have, I would have at the time. If there is another baby, I certainly will think about looking at this miraculous moment!
- And so, at an hour and a half of pushing, my baby was ready to be born. As everyone and his uncle was still attending to the breech baby, there had been no one in my room for over an hour, and no one there to catch the baby! (A doula isn’t legally allowed to catch a baby.) Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled to be able to have my calm surroundings without doctors and nurses rushing in and out and shoving their hands hither and nither. But, it was time for a doctor now…
- Rivka instructed my husband to press the button to call the nurse. (Quite calmly, I recall, though now I know that she was literally getting into position to catch this baby. He took his time in coming, but was ready in an instant! I do remember her taking out some rubber gloves.) Which button did my husband push? The code blue button. Boy did that get people into our room fast. Of course within a second everyone realized there was no code, but they did realize there was a baby about to be born! There wasn’t even time to get the bed prepped and just a second to put the plastic stuff that they put out.
- Then, in one push, out came my son’s head. And one more push, the rest of his body.
- Exactly as I wanted, my baby was placed immediately on my chest. He was a little bloody, but surprisingly clean. He was crying a little high pitched cry, a little annoyed to be removed from his warm and cozy womb.
- His crying didn’t last long, though. He had better things to attend to. He had people to see, places to look at. He was so alert, lifting his head and peering around at everything with his huge eyes. This guy was certainly ready to meet the world.
- Surprisingly, I didn’t cry. I just kept looking at the baby in my arms and saying “Oh my god, oh my god”. I think I was in disbelief that I had actually gotten pregnant, carried my baby safely to term (and 11 days past!), and made it through labour. And there I was, holding my baby.
- My husband kept kissing me, and stroking the baby. He was in complete awe of the little creature.
- We tried putting the baby to the breast, and we had a little success. He was definitely rooting, looking around for his source of nourishment.
- All the while, I was instructed to push to deliver the placenta, and I was being stitched up in the two places that I tore on my labia (thank goodness there was no episiotomy, I kept thinking). One thing I remember vividly is how much the injection of local aesthetic that they had to use to numb we for the stitches hurt.
- The hour or so after the birth was such a flurry of activity. When the cord stopped pulsing, my husband cut it. The baby was weighed, cleaned up, and checked out. He was pronounced perfect. All the while I was being cleaned and I somehow got into a hospital gown.
- The baby was put back in my arms, and my parents and grandmother came in to see us. I look back at those pictures now I think I look amazingly good for someone who just went through 26 hours of labour.
- A few minutes later I was rolled into the post-partum ward. It was about 9 o’clock at night. If I thought I had had sleepless night before the baby was born…
- The rest, as they say, is history.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
ONE YEAR
Happy birthday my sweet, precious boy. Thank you for gving me the opportunity to be a mommy, to be your mommy. I love you with all my heart.
{Administrative note: you may have noticed that the colurs changed around here. Hope you like it. But, while making the changes it seems that my current blogroll got replaced with an old old version of itself. I am afraid that I won't recapture all your blogs. So... if you are reading and your blog isn't on my list (a list that will be rearranged into categories in the coming days), please, please leave me a comment so that I don't forget to include you! Thanks.}
Saturday, March 28, 2009
THIS TIME LAST YEAR
365 days ago I was in the hospital. I was kind of in labour.
I told the nurse that this baby was going to be born by 11pm, the end of her shift.
HA! I had that much faith in my body.
Sacha was born on this nurse's shift... 24 hours later.
I can hardly believe that tomorrow it will be an entire year since I met my little prince.
Birthday post, pictures, and if you guys are really nice, maybe even the birth story, to come.
Happy 1st, my little pumpkin.
I told the nurse that this baby was going to be born by 11pm, the end of her shift.
HA! I had that much faith in my body.
Sacha was born on this nurse's shift... 24 hours later.
I can hardly believe that tomorrow it will be an entire year since I met my little prince.
Birthday post, pictures, and if you guys are really nice, maybe even the birth story, to come.
Happy 1st, my little pumpkin.
Friday, March 27, 2009
BITCHY POST
Quick and dirty.
I have an old friend. We don't live in the same city any more, so we aren't as good friends as we used to be. She got married last year a week after Sacha was born, and with him being in the NICU and all, I just did not have the energy to make it.
Who sees where this is going?
Right.
She emailed (in a group email) this morning: she's pregnant.
But wait.
My friend, she has a blog. And so she blogs. About her thoughts and stuff and things. You know, like us. Except not about infertility.
Except ya.
She's been trying for 2 months.
And this month, when she supposedly got her period (but her temp remained high) she went on and on and on and on about how she's infertile. I mean, she has to be. She didn't get pregnant on her second month of trying, right?
Ugh.
I hate this about myself that I feel this way. There is not even one shred of me that is happy for her. It's all annoyance. And so: I'm a bitch. No?
It also marks my 6th friend who will have a baby in the 2nd half of this year. I was holding it together pretty well until now. This seems to be the last straw.
I have an old friend. We don't live in the same city any more, so we aren't as good friends as we used to be. She got married last year a week after Sacha was born, and with him being in the NICU and all, I just did not have the energy to make it.
Who sees where this is going?
Right.
She emailed (in a group email) this morning: she's pregnant.
But wait.
My friend, she has a blog. And so she blogs. About her thoughts and stuff and things. You know, like us. Except not about infertility.
Except ya.
She's been trying for 2 months.
And this month, when she supposedly got her period (but her temp remained high) she went on and on and on and on about how she's infertile. I mean, she has to be. She didn't get pregnant on her second month of trying, right?
Ugh.
I hate this about myself that I feel this way. There is not even one shred of me that is happy for her. It's all annoyance. And so: I'm a bitch. No?
It also marks my 6th friend who will have a baby in the 2nd half of this year. I was holding it together pretty well until now. This seems to be the last straw.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
You know. As usual, it's been too long.
I must thank thank thank you guys for your support on the previous post. Wow. Unfortunate as it is that we met because of the common bond of infertility, I feel so lucky to have you all in my life.
I would like to do something special to show how much I appreciate your friendship. I'm working on an idea.
The update on the sleep sitch is thus: still bad. But somedays if I complain about it, it just feels worse. So, you are forewarned taht I will probably blog about it again in the future. But really, enough for now.
So. Next topic.
I am interested in what you guys are feeding your ones these days.
Sacha is into the finger foods, and he loves spearing food with a fork and getting into his mouth. (I know! The kid has talent!) But he still likes his purees. I try out new foods all the time, and he always wants to try what is on our plates at dinner (or breakfast or lunch if I am eating them with him around.)
I would love to open up a discussion about food here. These are my questions. Let's have some coffee and talk!
I must thank thank thank you guys for your support on the previous post. Wow. Unfortunate as it is that we met because of the common bond of infertility, I feel so lucky to have you all in my life.
I would like to do something special to show how much I appreciate your friendship. I'm working on an idea.
The update on the sleep sitch is thus: still bad. But somedays if I complain about it, it just feels worse. So, you are forewarned taht I will probably blog about it again in the future. But really, enough for now.
So. Next topic.
I am interested in what you guys are feeding your ones these days.
Sacha is into the finger foods, and he loves spearing food with a fork and getting into his mouth. (I know! The kid has talent!) But he still likes his purees. I try out new foods all the time, and he always wants to try what is on our plates at dinner (or breakfast or lunch if I am eating them with him around.)
I would love to open up a discussion about food here. These are my questions. Let's have some coffee and talk!
- Anybody want to share good recipes for some older baby foods that they have had sucess with?
- What about spices?
- What are your menus like? What do you typically serve for breakfast/lunch/dinner?
- What is a typical schedule in terms of eating and drinking in a day?
- What about breastfeeding? How many times a day do you BF if you still are? And have you thought about weaning?
- What about formula/bottlefeeding?
- And cup usage?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
AGAIN ABOUT THE SLEEP
People. It's 1:21 am. I'm not lying about what I am about to write.
I have been up with Sacha for the past 2 hours. The last half hour the both of us have spent crying.
The previous hour and a half saw me holding my baby as he slept, and him waking and screaming the moment I put him down. The first holding and sleeping lasted an hour. He was out cold. And then he woke when he hit the mattress. Two more attempts and I lost it.
I sat in the rocking chair holding my baby on the verge of hysterics asking my almost 11 month old why he won't sleep. Of course he can't answer me.
And of course my husband finally got out of bed to help me.
I tried getting into bed, but I just lay there and cried. I couldn't sleep, so I figured I would use my time wisely and bang out something here.
Sacha seems to have stopped crying too. But I can hear my husband walking around with him. Who knows what will happen when he tries to put the baby back in his crib. Who knows. And who knows how many more times we will have to do this tonight.
I know this: Sacha has us wrapped around his finger. And our getting up to him every couple of hours and then subsequently holding him for hours on end is just reinforcing his waking. Compounded by the fact that I am now nursing him so much in middle of the night, I feel that we have embarked upon a never ending cycle.
I am at my wit's end. I am exhausted. I am sad. I dread getting into bed.
Worse yet is that it is wreaking havoc on my relationship with my husband.
You see. He thinks he's more entitled to sleep because he works all day. Just writing that makes me quake in anger. I think there might be steam coming out of my ears.
Just to remind you: for the past 5 years I have run a home-based business. Yes, things are slower now (I can choose how much work I take on; plus the economy is not doing me any favours), but the truth of the matter is that I never stopped working once Sacha was born. Essentially I never had a full maternity leave.
Oh ya. I also have this job called being a mother.
I love my husband dearly. But he just isn't getting it these days. And I don't know how to make him get it. He thinks that I should be able to nap twice a day like Sacha does. I guess he forgets that I need some time to work, clean up the house, prepare dinner, go grocery shopping, etc...
I can't go on like this.
I know something has to be done. About Sacha's sleep and about my relationship.
I don't want to start hating my husband over this. And more scary is that I don't want to start resenting my baby.
I really don't know what to do to break the cycle of crazy sleep that I know we created ourselves. (Well yes. I do know. And I know it will have to involve some level of crying it out. And it pained me to just write that.)
And I don't know what to do to end this competition that my husband and I seem to be having without end. The one where we are at each other about who works more/works harder/sleeps less/etc...
Please help. I thought having my baby would cure my tearful nights.
-------
A few notes:
1- I previously wrote about Sacha's nighttime routine here. It doesn't make sense to write it all out again. It has changed somewhat because the entire situation has escalated.
2-While I know some of you may have this suggestion on the tips of your tongues (you know, the one where I let my husband care for the baby alone for a day or 2), it still is not an option as Sacha is still breastfed, and he refuses to take a cup or a bottle. Indeed another post for another time. Yes, I need more help. But this is more pressing.
3- Ok. I am not that naive to think that having a baby would cure any problems. But sometimes I can't help thinking that yes, while I pretty much have everything that I have ever wanted, I have next to never felt so shitty.
I have been up with Sacha for the past 2 hours. The last half hour the both of us have spent crying.
The previous hour and a half saw me holding my baby as he slept, and him waking and screaming the moment I put him down. The first holding and sleeping lasted an hour. He was out cold. And then he woke when he hit the mattress. Two more attempts and I lost it.
I sat in the rocking chair holding my baby on the verge of hysterics asking my almost 11 month old why he won't sleep. Of course he can't answer me.
And of course my husband finally got out of bed to help me.
I tried getting into bed, but I just lay there and cried. I couldn't sleep, so I figured I would use my time wisely and bang out something here.
Sacha seems to have stopped crying too. But I can hear my husband walking around with him. Who knows what will happen when he tries to put the baby back in his crib. Who knows. And who knows how many more times we will have to do this tonight.
I know this: Sacha has us wrapped around his finger. And our getting up to him every couple of hours and then subsequently holding him for hours on end is just reinforcing his waking. Compounded by the fact that I am now nursing him so much in middle of the night, I feel that we have embarked upon a never ending cycle.
I am at my wit's end. I am exhausted. I am sad. I dread getting into bed.
Worse yet is that it is wreaking havoc on my relationship with my husband.
You see. He thinks he's more entitled to sleep because he works all day. Just writing that makes me quake in anger. I think there might be steam coming out of my ears.
Just to remind you: for the past 5 years I have run a home-based business. Yes, things are slower now (I can choose how much work I take on; plus the economy is not doing me any favours), but the truth of the matter is that I never stopped working once Sacha was born. Essentially I never had a full maternity leave.
Oh ya. I also have this job called being a mother.
I love my husband dearly. But he just isn't getting it these days. And I don't know how to make him get it. He thinks that I should be able to nap twice a day like Sacha does. I guess he forgets that I need some time to work, clean up the house, prepare dinner, go grocery shopping, etc...
I can't go on like this.
I know something has to be done. About Sacha's sleep and about my relationship.
I don't want to start hating my husband over this. And more scary is that I don't want to start resenting my baby.
I really don't know what to do to break the cycle of crazy sleep that I know we created ourselves. (Well yes. I do know. And I know it will have to involve some level of crying it out. And it pained me to just write that.)
And I don't know what to do to end this competition that my husband and I seem to be having without end. The one where we are at each other about who works more/works harder/sleeps less/etc...
Please help. I thought having my baby would cure my tearful nights.
-------
A few notes:
1- I previously wrote about Sacha's nighttime routine here. It doesn't make sense to write it all out again. It has changed somewhat because the entire situation has escalated.
2-While I know some of you may have this suggestion on the tips of your tongues (you know, the one where I let my husband care for the baby alone for a day or 2), it still is not an option as Sacha is still breastfed, and he refuses to take a cup or a bottle. Indeed another post for another time. Yes, I need more help. But this is more pressing.
3- Ok. I am not that naive to think that having a baby would cure any problems. But sometimes I can't help thinking that yes, while I pretty much have everything that I have ever wanted, I have next to never felt so shitty.
Friday, February 13, 2009
POSTS A-BREWIN'
I love Shlomit, and I am still so so sad about her loss.
And I miss her terribly as a friend who lives close-by.
But that post sittling at the top of the blog made ever so sad everytime I came here.
I have a gazillion posts brewing, and hopefully I will get one published soon. Working at home and caring for this almost-toddler is really taking a toll on my blogging!
I just wanted to let you know that all is well here in our world. Sacha is wonderful, sweet, active and thriving. And I am still learning as we go.
Details coming soon.
And I miss her terribly as a friend who lives close-by.
But that post sittling at the top of the blog made ever so sad everytime I came here.
I have a gazillion posts brewing, and hopefully I will get one published soon. Working at home and caring for this almost-toddler is really taking a toll on my blogging!
I just wanted to let you know that all is well here in our world. Sacha is wonderful, sweet, active and thriving. And I am still learning as we go.
Details coming soon.
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