Penned in the Wee Hours in my Head

These are days of nighttime feedings and diaper changes. Bottles and burpings. These are days of pounds and ounces and baby gurgles and tiny socks.

We are not sleeping.

Let's not try to make this something it's not.

This too shall pass.

Welcome Baby Hucksley!

He's here everyone! All 8 pounds 12 ounces of him! He's even taller than his older sister at 21.5 inches. He arrived on December 20th 2009 at 2:08am. I'm such a proud mom!

It was a long, long labor at 28.5 hours. I had been in prodormal labor for a while already so when I hit 40 weeks the doctors wanted to induce. (See previous post.) Being that I had pregnancy-induced hypertension and was 4 cms they said it wouldn't be a problem. But I really wanted to know what it was like to do it naturally with no drugs. I wanted to know how far I could trust my body. I now understand the famous answer some mountain climber quipped when asked why he climbed Mt. Everest. "Because it's there!" he said. It's a lot like that.

With Bombie the birth was medicated, induced. I asked for an epidural. I tore, got stitches, healing was much, much longer. So this time we were determined to stay home as long as possible. Well, we did. Right up until transition. Labor contractions began at 9:30pm on December 18th. I timed them and they were about 12 - 18 minutes apart. I couldn't sleep through them but I did doze between them and tried to relax. Labor had definitely begun. I thought, okay, tomorrow. Boy, was I wrong!

All through the next day, labor puttered in and out. I couldn't lay down and nap, I couldn't do much except watch TV, walk around a little and time contractions. Since it was Saturday, James was home and we sat and timed them. We were waiting for them to get to 5 minutes apart or less for an hour before getting to the hospital. I had had my "show" but my water was intact so there was no rush. Somewhere in the day I got on the treadmill and walked a bit to get things going again and then he took me to Target. I was in no mood to talk to anyone or interact, but walking with him was good. Every time a contraction came, I leaned into him. We puttered some more around the house, got Chinese to eat and I tried to ignore Bombie each time she wanted to be picked up. Felt bad about that, but I just couldn't.

What else did we do? Oh yeah, we sat through about two parts of The Lord of the Rings, tried different labor positions until I decided sitting on the edge of the couch seemed to be the most comfortable. Towards the evening I began to get more vocal and moaned / hummed. That's when we knew we were getting close. At about 9:30 that night I began to shake. We were getting really close. Still, I wanted to avoid pitocin, being strapped down, etc. and we were so, so close that we wanted to get a good pattern going before leaving. At around 10 things shifted into really high gear. Contractions were beginning to come at 4 - 5 minutes apart, hurt more and there was pressure like I was sitting on the baby's head. That's when we left. I believe it was something like 10:45pm.

The hospital was about a half hour away and I had about 4 - 5 contractions on the way there. As soon as they saw us come in, they knew we were staying. The triage doctor checked me and said I was at 8 cms. Then he says, Is your baby breech? I almost died. A quick ultrasound said no. I had been checking my cervix off and on all day, so I knew anyway but it was nice to let go of that last little bit of worry. They checked me into labor and delivery at about 11:30.

Contractions were now coming 4 minutes apart and lasting about a minute or more. I had the most indescribable urge to push. I zoomed from 8 to 9.5 cms in just a few minutes and when the midwife came at 12:45 I was ready to have him out already. She broke my water and he was born in about an hour from then. No tears, no stitches. That's the beauty of the human body. I love it.

I know, I'm beginning to sound like a natural labor nazi, but the difference between Sierra's birth and this one was so huge I can't even compare it. Yes, the contractions hurt, but besides that, recovery was so much faster. I was up and walking around 9 hours after giving birth, had the catheter removed, got no stitches and walked to the car 24 hours later. I felt strong and in control, I was able to push in the position I wanted and even though I kept saying "I can't, I can't" while pushing, when the urge to push came and I was in the middle of it, it was so primal and so strong, there was no way anything could have stopped the baby's birth. I'd say pushing was about 100 times more effective without an epidural. I could tell it used every muscle in my body because everything from my ribs to my gums were sore for a day after.

If I had to give birth again this is how I would do it. But I doubt I could have done it without my husband, James. I think I fell in love with him all over again that day. He was strong for me when I couldn't be and wanted to go to the hospital early. He was there for me to lean into, all 6 feet 4 inches of him and he was there cheering me on when I was pushing our son out.

I was the one who went through labor, but it was us - James and me - who birthed our son together. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

Not Yet!

Well, as it turns out, after telling all my friends that I was having the baby induced yesterday we decided against it. I'm still hoping I will go into labor on my own and if not we will induce him next week on Wednesday morning.

More than anything, I was irritated at how the hospital staff seemed to rush me into wanting to induce the baby yesterday. Hospitals here are notorious anyway for shoving their way in between a married couple so we are always on high alert when we're in there. It just bugs me how each time we go in they make every attempt to separate James and me and then ask me if I'm being beaten. Just another reason I hate the Nanny State of California. Any wonder my blood pressure shoots up in the hospital? Ha!

Anyway, so I told the nurse what I thought about their stupid "policy" yesterday and then was being monitored for hypertension. Obviously, the BP was high throughout. So they were concerned about pre-eclampsia. Here is the most precise information I have found on Wikipedia. Yesterday, they insisted I had it, even though I had only "trace protein" in my urine (from not having eaten all day - thanks for making me run around, hospitals!) and my blood tests were normal. I finally had to ask the doctor how much protein was in my blood and she said 20mg. Excuse me? Pre-eclampsia diagnosis needs 300mg!!!

But the doctor kept wanting to send me for an induction. "But you're 40 weeks, so there's no problem." She kept insisting that it was our call but there was nothing in her demeanor that made it seem like I had a choice after SHE had decided what was best for me. Ugh. If I have another baby, it will not be in California.

So that put me on high alert. But when they start talking about how I could have a stroke or the baby could die and/or we could both have neurological damage, it gets scary real quick. But what they don't mention is that C-sections have their own issues and complications. Heck, life can be a complication - there's no way to rule out all risks. I was feeling like a trapped animal, so we decided to schedule an induction for next week. That way the boy has until 41 weeks to get here, it's still before Christmas (so he won't feel like everyone is "partied out" when he gets older and it's his birthday) and I still have a shot at this going naturally.

We'll see. Here was the caveat though. The nurse saw what I said she told me that the hospital was highly interventionist. She said she had PIH throughout both her pregnancies and her kids are just fine. She said she refused induction and an epidural for her second as well and he was healthy as can be. I think if hospitals really meant all the crap they spouted about respecting their patients and treating them well, their approach would be vastly different than just pushing people into unnecessary procedures. If you trust US hospitals with labor and delivery, do some research into the statistics. They're appalling. Appalling. And yet they have the nerve to get you to sign a waiver that says you are leaving against medical advice.

Which I did yesterday. We'll see how much more crap I have to tolerate before this baby is home.

Breathing Space

The past few weeks have been emotionally difficult. My dad has been over to visit and help with the arrival of the new baby and the baby seems to be taking his own sweet time coming. Perhaps because my dad is here and I'm having a hard time relaxing. My blood pressure has shot up and I would imagine oxytocin is in short supply in my system right now.

Now don't misunderstand. I don't mean to be ungrateful. I'm very grateful that my dad is here all the way from India to help, but it's been almost a decade since I left what used to be home and being around him 24 - 7 is kind of getting on my nerves. He's easy enough to get along with but he has some personality quirks that absolutely drive me crazy. Like he won't speak in English even though he can when James is around so I have to translate or my husband feels left out. Not to mention it's just rude. The cultural gap is hard to bridge. I can tell he's a little on edge when James is around and that irritates me too. I mean, jeez... we've been married for almost eight years now. Also, he calls me by my mom's name by mistake. A lot. AND he never leaves the house. Even for a walk. And we have the same conversations every single day. Ugh. "Sleep well?" "You're going to have coffee now?" "How are you feeling?" I want to scream "I'M PREGNANT, NOT AN INVALID. I'M NOT SICK!!!" Not to mention the house is usually quiet - we're quiet people - and any sound is magnified. So intimacy of any kind with James becomes uncomfortable. Not that I'm looking forward to any of it being 3 days away from my due date. But still... I wish I didn't have to worry about anything I said, much less did, with James.

Yes, a bit of a rant. But you see where I'm coming from now. Part of me is beginning to think it was a mistake to ask for help. It's been more than a month now and I can't wait for everything to be normal again. Really, I don't know how other families have house guests for this long.

The family dynamic sucks too. Bombie is getting pampered and our time-outs are not working as well, partially because he comes in and rescues her before we have a chance to give her a time-out. So she doesn't learn. He carries her around a lot, so she's getting dependent. You know, everyone said that the reason I didn't walk until much later is because I was an overweight child. I'm beginning to think being carried around had a lot to do with it. He won't let her fall, he worries all the time when she's climbing up and down, he keeps saying things like, "Walk, don't run..." Aaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!!!

Well, three more weeks. That's it. I advanced his ticket and he's leaving on the 4th. We'll just deal with everything by ourselves later. Those were James' words of wisdom yesterday and I think he's right. If this was a permanent situation we'd have to lay down some strict rules. But chances are he's not going to see Bombie again for a long time so he can pamper her all he wants. She's only 16 months, so she won't remember much. And we can deal with the new family dynamic after the fourth of next month.

Until then I only have to stay sane and deliver this new baby. And never ever forget that the more security, the lesser the freedom. I have never known that in a more real manner than I do now.