I was quiet during January, wasn't I? I would apologize but truly I needed that time of mostly quiet. Let the words just sit for a while, rest, rise like dough left warm and covered on the counter. And rise they have.
Words aren't the only thing that have been growing in the quiet of January, though. New Years Day brought the most surprising and joyful news in the form of two blue lines. Our fourth precious child had nestled himself or herself quietly into my womb, no announcement or fanfare, just a silent little stowaway until our News Years Day discovery. What better way could there be to start off a new year?
Of course, amidst the excitement and joy there were those other feelings too. Four kids? We wanted four but maybe we were crazy. And so soon? We had expected this stowaway to settle in early this summer, based on our previous delayed returns of fertility. And me, a now-pregnant bridesmaid in May, my dress will never fit, and another cherished wedding will be missed, with the baby due only a handful of days before that one, oh dear. And our marriage, we have made such progress, such progress, will pregnancy and then babyhood serve to undo that?
Ah, fear. How quickly I allow it to rise up and choke out my joy.
But many deep breaths were taken and many prayers were offered and many fears were spoken aloud to one another and it all settles down eventually. The wonder if it all sinks in and those worries seem less important. (Although we are desperately sorry that we will miss the wedding of my dear sister-in-law and her lovely husband-to-be. Even so, what could be more perfect than a wedding and a new baby at the same time? What a blessed time for our family.)
The boys are completely thrilled, as I knew they would be. Then again, the older one has suggested that twenty children would be about right, but after discovering that the female body can mature up to 400 eggs, he wondered if that was an option for us. Yes, these are the sorts of conversations we've been having around here. I think I'm answering his questions well so far, but heck if it isn't a bit nerve-wracking nonetheless.
As for baby girl, well, she has no idea. It's a new experience for me, having a child who doesn't understand that Mommy is going to have another baby in a few months. Pregnancy has always been a beautiful time of watching them prepare for their new role as an older sibling. Closer spacing this time around makes for a different experience, and I hope that we can all handle this upcoming transition smoothly. I worry for her, just a little, and for me too, but things always turn out better than expected in the end.
How funny that I once mourned our inability to have our children two years apart like we wanted, and now I'm nervous about having received just that opportunity! Well, it will be a new adventure for us - and time for a mini-van, too!
This fourth little one will arrive at the end of August, making me eleven weeks along right now. S/he has been good to me so far, with only the slightest bit of nausea some evenings. We had the good fortune of seeing the little bean via ultrasound at eight weeks, lifting his or her little head and waving around his or her arms. I'm excited about the upcoming weeks - hearing the heartbeat, feeling those first movements, hopefully leaving the last of the nausea behind as I move into the second trimester.
Whatever worries we may have, it is joy that we feel far more abundantly. Thank you, Lord.
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pregnancy. Show all posts
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
Monday, 13 August 2012
Pregnancy Tales: A lighthearted look at the past nine months
Pregnancy. It's beautiful and miserable and miraculous and painful and wonderful and all the rest. It's pregnancy glow and morning sickness. It's cute little baby bumps and big swollen ankles. It's grinning over tiny baby outfits and peeing when you sneeze. It's elation and exhaustion. Excitement and panic. Highs and lows.
And sometimes, it's just plain funny.
Potty Training
The actual process of potty training a child while you're pregnant is great. You're peeing so often that it's easy to remember to bring the toddler along each time. It's like a built-in potty timer! Perfect.
But then they actually become potty trained, past tense. Suddenly I'm waiting in line as my oldest takes a poo, my toddler does the potty dance in front of him, and I've got to go last because I'm the grown up. Meanwhile I'm imitating the toddler, legs crossed and all, and I've got to wipe the older one and then help the younger one with his clothes, all without peeing my pants.
And I'm asking myself the entire time, why was it, precisely, that you wanted to potty train the toddler?? I don't know, Self. I do not know.
Bedtime
The expectation of a new baby requires that certain preparations be made. For us, this included transitioning our bed-sharing toddler into his own bed. With that accomplished, our bedtime routine now involved me sitting in their room until said toddler fell asleep, as the alternative meant both boys were up for hours giggling and talking and playing together. As we figured out our new bedtime routine, I moved from sitting beside him on the floor, to sitting on the end of his bed, to sitting in between their beds, to our ultimate solution of me sitting on his bed while he fell asleep with his head resting on my lap. It's terribly sweet, actually, to have him fall asleep there, his head on my thigh, my legs a cradle on either side of him. Of course this only works because once he's asleep, he sleeps like a rock, making it easy to slip out from underneath him.
Aye, there's the rub. With this big belly of mine, there's no "slipping out from underneath him". It's more along the lines of heaving myself out from underneath him and praying I don't fall over in the process. There's an image of a beached whale in there somewhere as I struggle to both move out from underneath him and stand up at the same time. It's not pretty or graceful or smooth in the least; some nights I've very nearly given in and called my husband to come help me up. So far I've managed it myself, though, and I am invariably glad my five-year-old is the only witness to this nightly struggle.
My Bedtime
And then comes time for me to go to sleep. I've been exhausted all day. After all, in celebration of Mommy becoming pregnant, my two year old decided it was the perfect time to stop napping. (This happened both times. My toddlers can be awfully unkind.) Surely I'll fall asleep as soon as my head hits my pillow. Good thing, too, since everyone keeps reminding me to get in my sleep while I still can.
But no. The cruel twist of fate known as Pregnancy Insomnia strikes again. Instead of grasping these last nights of uninterrupted sleep before the baby arrives, I lay awake for hours. My brain refuses to turn off. My loose pregnancy joints begin aching. My pregnancy bladder demands yet another trip to the bathroom. I begin to mope about how terrible my life is. Nothing like overreaction at two o'clock in the morning.
At last I fall asleep. Then, far too soon, I wake up again - and can't fall back asleep. Something urgent occupies my brain. Last week it was what order I should phone people in when I go into labour. What if no one's home? Should I get the quick calls out of the way first - tell the husband to come home, let the daycare kid's mom know it's time to pick him up, call a friend to come over if no one else is here - and then go through the longer process of calling the midwife clinic, seeing which midwife is on call, getting her pager number, paging her, and then awaiting her reply? Or should I just go straight to 911 because oh dear Lord I'm going to end up delivering this baby with three children staring at me and not another adult in sight! This was all very urgent and important and dramatic at four o'clock in the morning. I watched the room get brighter as the sun rose.
Some nights, I simply give up. It's 3:08am as I type this section. My life is unfair.
Prepping for Childbirth
I was watching some natural birth videos with the boy to help prepare him for the upcoming homebirth of his little brother or sister. He wants to be there and the videos answered more of his questions and prompted some really good new ones too. He's feeling quite calm about it all.
I, however? Completely freaked myself out with those stupid videos. I suddenly remembered quite vividly just how painful natural birth is. I don't want to do that again! What was I thinking?? I told my husband I was just going to cross my legs really tight and the baby could just live in there. Supportive man that he is, he laughed at me, and then he said that would only have worked if I'd tried it nine months ago. Very funny, darling husband. Just hilarious.
Oh, the Comments
With two boys and a third child on the way, I have learned two things from the comments I have received during this pregnancy:
As for the second, well, it's a little more difficult to stay lighthearted here. My midwife recently told me that three brothers would be nice, and you know what? I nearly cried. It was the first time this entire pregnancy that someone has said something positive about the idea of having three boys.
The worst comment I received so far was this gem from a mother of four: "Oh, you have two boys? Hopefully this one will be a girl. That would be nice. If not, well, you can always try again." Because it wouldn't be "nice" if I was blessed with a third boy, right? If sweet Mystery Baby is just another boy, it'll be "oh, too bad, but at least you can try again," is that it?
The second worst comment so far was from another mother: "Will you be okay if it's a boy?" No. No, I'll be devastated. Anything but another healthy and happy boy! The horror!
Finally, the third worst comment has come from multiple random strangers: Anything along the lines of "hopefully this one's a girl!" when said directly in front of my two boys. How do you think that makes them feel?
If it is a boy, I will be thrilled. What an honour and a joy to raise three sons!
If it is a girl, I will be thrilled. What an honour and a joy to experience raising a daughter!
We'll find out soon enough which joy our family will be blessed with.
Fortunately, not all of the comments received are awful. My favourite comment recently came from a single young man:
And with that, I'm off to work on my panic-stricken face.
And sometimes, it's just plain funny.
Potty Training
The actual process of potty training a child while you're pregnant is great. You're peeing so often that it's easy to remember to bring the toddler along each time. It's like a built-in potty timer! Perfect.
But then they actually become potty trained, past tense. Suddenly I'm waiting in line as my oldest takes a poo, my toddler does the potty dance in front of him, and I've got to go last because I'm the grown up. Meanwhile I'm imitating the toddler, legs crossed and all, and I've got to wipe the older one and then help the younger one with his clothes, all without peeing my pants.
And I'm asking myself the entire time, why was it, precisely, that you wanted to potty train the toddler?? I don't know, Self. I do not know.
Bedtime
The expectation of a new baby requires that certain preparations be made. For us, this included transitioning our bed-sharing toddler into his own bed. With that accomplished, our bedtime routine now involved me sitting in their room until said toddler fell asleep, as the alternative meant both boys were up for hours giggling and talking and playing together. As we figured out our new bedtime routine, I moved from sitting beside him on the floor, to sitting on the end of his bed, to sitting in between their beds, to our ultimate solution of me sitting on his bed while he fell asleep with his head resting on my lap. It's terribly sweet, actually, to have him fall asleep there, his head on my thigh, my legs a cradle on either side of him. Of course this only works because once he's asleep, he sleeps like a rock, making it easy to slip out from underneath him.
Aye, there's the rub. With this big belly of mine, there's no "slipping out from underneath him". It's more along the lines of heaving myself out from underneath him and praying I don't fall over in the process. There's an image of a beached whale in there somewhere as I struggle to both move out from underneath him and stand up at the same time. It's not pretty or graceful or smooth in the least; some nights I've very nearly given in and called my husband to come help me up. So far I've managed it myself, though, and I am invariably glad my five-year-old is the only witness to this nightly struggle.
My Bedtime
And then comes time for me to go to sleep. I've been exhausted all day. After all, in celebration of Mommy becoming pregnant, my two year old decided it was the perfect time to stop napping. (This happened both times. My toddlers can be awfully unkind.) Surely I'll fall asleep as soon as my head hits my pillow. Good thing, too, since everyone keeps reminding me to get in my sleep while I still can.
But no. The cruel twist of fate known as Pregnancy Insomnia strikes again. Instead of grasping these last nights of uninterrupted sleep before the baby arrives, I lay awake for hours. My brain refuses to turn off. My loose pregnancy joints begin aching. My pregnancy bladder demands yet another trip to the bathroom. I begin to mope about how terrible my life is. Nothing like overreaction at two o'clock in the morning.
At last I fall asleep. Then, far too soon, I wake up again - and can't fall back asleep. Something urgent occupies my brain. Last week it was what order I should phone people in when I go into labour. What if no one's home? Should I get the quick calls out of the way first - tell the husband to come home, let the daycare kid's mom know it's time to pick him up, call a friend to come over if no one else is here - and then go through the longer process of calling the midwife clinic, seeing which midwife is on call, getting her pager number, paging her, and then awaiting her reply? Or should I just go straight to 911 because oh dear Lord I'm going to end up delivering this baby with three children staring at me and not another adult in sight! This was all very urgent and important and dramatic at four o'clock in the morning. I watched the room get brighter as the sun rose.
Some nights, I simply give up. It's 3:08am as I type this section. My life is unfair.
Prepping for Childbirth
I was watching some natural birth videos with the boy to help prepare him for the upcoming homebirth of his little brother or sister. He wants to be there and the videos answered more of his questions and prompted some really good new ones too. He's feeling quite calm about it all.
I, however? Completely freaked myself out with those stupid videos. I suddenly remembered quite vividly just how painful natural birth is. I don't want to do that again! What was I thinking?? I told my husband I was just going to cross my legs really tight and the baby could just live in there. Supportive man that he is, he laughed at me, and then he said that would only have worked if I'd tried it nine months ago. Very funny, darling husband. Just hilarious.
Oh, the Comments
With two boys and a third child on the way, I have learned two things from the comments I have received during this pregnancy:
- Three children is A Lot of Kids.
- Everyone hopes this one will be a girl.
As for the second, well, it's a little more difficult to stay lighthearted here. My midwife recently told me that three brothers would be nice, and you know what? I nearly cried. It was the first time this entire pregnancy that someone has said something positive about the idea of having three boys.
The worst comment I received so far was this gem from a mother of four: "Oh, you have two boys? Hopefully this one will be a girl. That would be nice. If not, well, you can always try again." Because it wouldn't be "nice" if I was blessed with a third boy, right? If sweet Mystery Baby is just another boy, it'll be "oh, too bad, but at least you can try again," is that it?
The second worst comment so far was from another mother: "Will you be okay if it's a boy?" No. No, I'll be devastated. Anything but another healthy and happy boy! The horror!
Finally, the third worst comment has come from multiple random strangers: Anything along the lines of "hopefully this one's a girl!" when said directly in front of my two boys. How do you think that makes them feel?
If it is a boy, I will be thrilled. What an honour and a joy to raise three sons!
If it is a girl, I will be thrilled. What an honour and a joy to experience raising a daughter!
We'll find out soon enough which joy our family will be blessed with.
Fortunately, not all of the comments received are awful. My favourite comment recently came from a single young man:
"So when are you due?"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to look in these last days, but it would seem "calm" is not it.
"In less than a week."
"What?? But you look so...calm!"
And with that, I'm off to work on my panic-stricken face.
Friday, 27 July 2012
Saved by Grace
Grace is all that is saving me right now.
37 weeks and the end is drawing near. I am feeling its urgency pressing into my days. I am finding myself drawing inwards and yet I am so needed, so many needs, when I just want to be somewhere alone. I am tired, so tired. I am even afraid. Afraid of pain. Afraid of being responsible for more needs. Afraid of my own frailty.
But grace is saving me.
I am saved by the grace of children who forgive me when I blow up at them again. They are so young and so loud and so good but oh so very loud. And there are oh so very many apologies from me, and still they forgive, seventy times seven and beyond.
I am saved by the grace of a soul-filling visit from a friend. I haven't done this enough, I can tell by the relief when she arrives, the lingering peace when she leaves. I might crave solitude right now but it is the love of others that is truly sustaining me.
I am saved by the grace of another mother's baby, with sparkling eyes and round cheeks and an easy smile. I remember - oh yes, that's why - and the hard times don't feel so heavy anymore. Soon, soon, I will hold my own tiny treasure in my arms.
I am saved by the grace of small things. A song. A list. An iron pill. A nap. A square of dark chocolate. A walk to the mailbox. A kiss from my toddler, help from my growing boy, a touch from my husband. So many small things that are steadying my world right now.
I am saved by the grace of a God who is Good. I release worries and failings and breathe in His peace. Grace, grace, grace.
I am saved by grace, yes, but also by its twin, hope. Hope that tomorrow might be better. I receive encouragement from one who has been here and come out on the other side, moved beyond the challenges of pregnancy and young childhood and reached back to reassure, cherish it, but also know that it is only a short season. I open my eyes and cherish it, all of it, but quietly hold close the hope of sleep-filled nights and easier days, too.
Life is good and it is hard and it is messy, but always those two are at hand, grace and hope, wrapped up in the most precious of love.
And they are saving me, moment by moment, right now.
37 weeks and the end is drawing near. I am feeling its urgency pressing into my days. I am finding myself drawing inwards and yet I am so needed, so many needs, when I just want to be somewhere alone. I am tired, so tired. I am even afraid. Afraid of pain. Afraid of being responsible for more needs. Afraid of my own frailty.
But grace is saving me.
I am saved by the grace of children who forgive me when I blow up at them again. They are so young and so loud and so good but oh so very loud. And there are oh so very many apologies from me, and still they forgive, seventy times seven and beyond.
I am saved by the grace of a soul-filling visit from a friend. I haven't done this enough, I can tell by the relief when she arrives, the lingering peace when she leaves. I might crave solitude right now but it is the love of others that is truly sustaining me.
I am saved by the grace of another mother's baby, with sparkling eyes and round cheeks and an easy smile. I remember - oh yes, that's why - and the hard times don't feel so heavy anymore. Soon, soon, I will hold my own tiny treasure in my arms.
I am saved by the grace of small things. A song. A list. An iron pill. A nap. A square of dark chocolate. A walk to the mailbox. A kiss from my toddler, help from my growing boy, a touch from my husband. So many small things that are steadying my world right now.
I am saved by the grace of a God who is Good. I release worries and failings and breathe in His peace. Grace, grace, grace.
I am saved by grace, yes, but also by its twin, hope. Hope that tomorrow might be better. I receive encouragement from one who has been here and come out on the other side, moved beyond the challenges of pregnancy and young childhood and reached back to reassure, cherish it, but also know that it is only a short season. I open my eyes and cherish it, all of it, but quietly hold close the hope of sleep-filled nights and easier days, too.
Life is good and it is hard and it is messy, but always those two are at hand, grace and hope, wrapped up in the most precious of love.
And they are saving me, moment by moment, right now.
Linking up with Sarah, in which we are saved.
Monday, 23 July 2012
Preparing siblings for a homebirth
As this week marks the 37th week of pregnancy, our third baby is now officially "full term". (No rush though, little one; Mommy still has so much to do!) In addition to preparing the boys for the presence of their new baby brother or sister, we've begun preparing them for our second planned homebirth as well.
Our last homebirth was rather faster than we had expected, but the boy woke up for the very end and had a great chat with the firefighters when they arrived a few minutes later. Yes, the firefighters are the only memory he has of his little brother's birth. Quite the excitement when you're two years old.
In hopes of actually having a non-emergent homebirth this time - one that doesn't involve paramedics and firefighters and my mother-in-law catching an unexpected baby - we've been making the necessary preparations for the older boys, both in terms of preparing for their needs during the labour and mentally preparing them for what the experience might look like.
Have a dedicated support person
Our top priority is to have a dedicated support person in the house to care for the boys during the labour. We are fortunate again to have my mother-in-law coming to stay with us prior to the due date in order to be that support person. Our support person's sole responsibility is to be there for the two boys, meeting both their physical needs (food, bedtime, trips to the bathroom) and emotional needs (entertainment, answering their questions, talking them through what's going on, removing them from the room/house if they don't want to be there).
The boys both know they are more than welcome to witness the birth of their new siblings; they are also free to choose not to be there if they find the experience too scary or overwhelming. In that regard, our support person is an optional resource for them. They are not required to be under her care if they choose to be involved in the labour and birth instead.
On the off chance I go into labour before our support person arrives, we will have a second person lined up as backup.
Include them in the preparations
Gathering supplies, preparing food, and talking about the logistics of the homebirth are additional ways our boys can be involved in and prepared for the birth. Who will be there? What can we have on hand to eat? What can we prepare ahead of time? Why do we include this or that in our supplies? What can the kids do during the birth? In what ways might they be able to help me during the labour?
Because they have attended all prenatal appointments with me, they are familiar with our team of midwives, as well as with some of the equipment they use. This familiarity will further increase their comfort when the big day comes.
Talk about their own births
Both boys love hearing about their own births at any time, but we've been talking about those experiences even more in preparation for this third birth. Because their births were so very different in nearly every possible way, it provides a nice range of experiences to draw from. We've also talked about the bit I know of their relatives' and friends' births, thereby adding to their collection of potential birth scenarios.
Be honest about potential experiences
During my second pregnancy, I spent hours reading other birth stories (with a focus on positive ones) in order to mentally prepare myself for what I would be going through myself. I found great comfort in doing so; likewise, providing the boys with a number of birth stories gives them a better grasp on what may be to come. In addition to these past stories, however, we've also talked directly about what this experience may be like.
We've been deliberately honest about the various aspects of birth. Knowing myself, it is likely to be loud. There will be yelling, and that's okay. It will hurt, and that's alright. There will be various birthing fluids, including blood, and that's normal. If the baby or I need help from a doctor, we will go to a hospital while they stay with their Oma. The better they are mentally prepared for these various sights, sounds, and possibilities, along with all the correct terminology, the less frightening and overwhelming those things will be.
These discussions always draw some excellent questions from the boys; again, answering these questions in a way that is both honest and reassuring will help prepare them for the birth.
Watch videos and read books
Finally, watching videos and reading books about homebirth further adds to their understanding of what the experience might look like.
I highly recommend Mothering's 6 Birth Videos compilation as an immensely useful resource.
The interactive fetal development tool is our favourite in-utero look at how the baby develops; it can also be used to give an idea of where and how the baby will descend through the birth canal.
Our midwives have one of the incredible MamAmor dolls in their waiting room, which has allowed us a fun hands-on look at the process of childbirth. This process is daily reenacted in our living room by our enthusiastic boys/"mothers", with the help of various stuffed animals and dolls!
There are some lovely homebirth books available as well, including:
Any additional suggestions? What did you find helpful in preparing your older children for a homebirth?
Additional resources
Why homebirth?
Preparing siblings for a new baby
Attachment Parenting Series: Birth Bonding
Our last homebirth was rather faster than we had expected, but the boy woke up for the very end and had a great chat with the firefighters when they arrived a few minutes later. Yes, the firefighters are the only memory he has of his little brother's birth. Quite the excitement when you're two years old.
In hopes of actually having a non-emergent homebirth this time - one that doesn't involve paramedics and firefighters and my mother-in-law catching an unexpected baby - we've been making the necessary preparations for the older boys, both in terms of preparing for their needs during the labour and mentally preparing them for what the experience might look like.
Have a dedicated support person
Our top priority is to have a dedicated support person in the house to care for the boys during the labour. We are fortunate again to have my mother-in-law coming to stay with us prior to the due date in order to be that support person. Our support person's sole responsibility is to be there for the two boys, meeting both their physical needs (food, bedtime, trips to the bathroom) and emotional needs (entertainment, answering their questions, talking them through what's going on, removing them from the room/house if they don't want to be there).
The boys both know they are more than welcome to witness the birth of their new siblings; they are also free to choose not to be there if they find the experience too scary or overwhelming. In that regard, our support person is an optional resource for them. They are not required to be under her care if they choose to be involved in the labour and birth instead.
On the off chance I go into labour before our support person arrives, we will have a second person lined up as backup.
Include them in the preparations
Gathering supplies, preparing food, and talking about the logistics of the homebirth are additional ways our boys can be involved in and prepared for the birth. Who will be there? What can we have on hand to eat? What can we prepare ahead of time? Why do we include this or that in our supplies? What can the kids do during the birth? In what ways might they be able to help me during the labour?
Because they have attended all prenatal appointments with me, they are familiar with our team of midwives, as well as with some of the equipment they use. This familiarity will further increase their comfort when the big day comes.
Talk about their own births
Both boys love hearing about their own births at any time, but we've been talking about those experiences even more in preparation for this third birth. Because their births were so very different in nearly every possible way, it provides a nice range of experiences to draw from. We've also talked about the bit I know of their relatives' and friends' births, thereby adding to their collection of potential birth scenarios.
Be honest about potential experiences
During my second pregnancy, I spent hours reading other birth stories (with a focus on positive ones) in order to mentally prepare myself for what I would be going through myself. I found great comfort in doing so; likewise, providing the boys with a number of birth stories gives them a better grasp on what may be to come. In addition to these past stories, however, we've also talked directly about what this experience may be like.
We've been deliberately honest about the various aspects of birth. Knowing myself, it is likely to be loud. There will be yelling, and that's okay. It will hurt, and that's alright. There will be various birthing fluids, including blood, and that's normal. If the baby or I need help from a doctor, we will go to a hospital while they stay with their Oma. The better they are mentally prepared for these various sights, sounds, and possibilities, along with all the correct terminology, the less frightening and overwhelming those things will be.
These discussions always draw some excellent questions from the boys; again, answering these questions in a way that is both honest and reassuring will help prepare them for the birth.
Watch videos and read books
Finally, watching videos and reading books about homebirth further adds to their understanding of what the experience might look like.
I highly recommend Mothering's 6 Birth Videos compilation as an immensely useful resource.
The interactive fetal development tool is our favourite in-utero look at how the baby develops; it can also be used to give an idea of where and how the baby will descend through the birth canal.
Our midwives have one of the incredible MamAmor dolls in their waiting room, which has allowed us a fun hands-on look at the process of childbirth. This process is daily reenacted in our living room by our enthusiastic boys/"mothers", with the help of various stuffed animals and dolls!
There are some lovely homebirth books available as well, including:
- Hello Baby by Jenni Overend
- Runa's Birth by Uwe Spillmann
- We're Having a Homebirth by Kelly Mochel
- Mama, Talk About When Max Was Born by Toni Olson
- I Watched my Brother Being Born! by Anne Vondruska
Any additional suggestions? What did you find helpful in preparing your older children for a homebirth?
Additional resources
Why homebirth?
Preparing siblings for a new baby
Attachment Parenting Series: Birth Bonding
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
The Gift of a Sibling
I watch them playing together, these two boys of mine. They build a city across the living room, each adding pieces here and there, a twisting mass of rails and roads and animals and vehicles. They talk and laugh, oblivious to the rest of the world.
I watch them come to a disagreement. I don't step in, not yet. I wait, and there it is, the boy's calm defusing: "We're starting to fight again. Can we find something else to do together?" Little brother agrees and their play resumes in peace. It doesn't always work out that way, but when it does, it is so very good.
I watch them later. The boy wants some quiet time in his room, so I gently steer a heartbroken little brother away. I know how the boy feels; I often crave that alone time myself. But, tenderhearted boy that he is, he hears his little brother's cries and opens the door, invites him in. They snuggle together on a bed and page through books. It's only quiet for a short time before the giggling and play begins again.
*******
Once upon a time, two pink lines told me my long-desired second child was beginning to form within my womb. I celebrated joyously.
I also doubted.
What was I doing to my firstborn by bringing another child into our home? Would he resent his big-brother role? Suddenly I was tired and sick; how unfair to him that we no longer spent our days as we once did! I was, for the first time, snapping impatiently at my beautiful little boy; would I ever be the same patient mother I once had been?
Little brother arrived and the boy was enthralled. He held his brother, snuggled with him, touched his fingers and peeked under his hat to see his ears. He was soon making his brother smile, then laugh. He cheered his brother on through each new stage.
And still I doubted.
I was too tired, too impatient, too worn out. I spent too long putting the baby to bed while the boy waited patiently on the other side of the door. Our old habits had been replaced with a new life; no longer did we bake together every week or take a walk every day. I no longer tackled the big projects with the energy I once had; instead I accepted them reluctantly, half-heartedly, or pushed them off altogether. There was so much guilt and I worried. Had he lost out when we took away his only-child status?
*******
Two more pink lines later and once again my energy was sapped, my patience lowered. Again long-awaited, again much-celebrated, and again the doubt and guilt.
Only now the doubt and guilt were doubled. Just look at them, playing together, loving each other, hugging and wrestling and laughing and best friends, these two are.
What have I done?
What will a third child mean? How will it change their relationships? How will this little one fit in; is someone always going to be the third wheel, left out, feelings hurt, tears falling?
Will my big boy, so responsible, so willing to do for others, grow to feel that we asked too much of him? More responsibility, less responsibility, I never know what's right. He's so small, this oldest of my babies. So big and so small.
His little brother will become a middle child. I don't know what that means; I was the oldest and only know the good and bad of that role in a family. I don't want my affectionate little boy to feel forgotten, overlooked, invisible is his position as neither oldest nor youngest.
And what will it mean for me? More children than hands, myself spread yet more thin. I don't want to be the impatient mother, the too-tired mother, the no-not-today-maybe-tomorrow mother, lacking both time and energy. I am afraid.
*******
I watch them. I watch and fears begin to fade, because such brotherly love and joy can only be a gift. One more can only be an addition, not a subtraction. Maybe their lives would be different if they were onlies - maybe we'd do more, explore more, travel more, tackle more, I don't know - but this gift of each other is something I could never wish away.
Their excitement over the new baby is infectious. The older one can hardly wait. The younger one pokes and prods my growing belly, asking question after question - is the baby sleeping? eating? pooing? ready to come out now? - and finishing with a hug and kiss before pulling my shirt back down. These two, they have no doubts, no fears. They simply embrace and I have so much to learn from them.
*******
It is late and I open their door, wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark. There they are. Even in sleep, they are touching, always touching, and I know: this is a gift. Always, always, a new sibling is a gift. This new little brother or sister will only add to their joy.
They are all three so very blessed.
Tuesday, 5 June 2012
Preparing for Baby the Natural Way: NPN Blog Hop Summary!
May's blog hop featured the topic "Preparing For Baby The Natural Way". Today we're wrapping up the hop with a categorized summary of this wonderful collection of links. Enjoy!
_____________________
Healthy Pregnancy
- Momma in Progress writes a beautiful Letter To My Preggo Self.
- Code Name: Mama shares a video and description of Prenatal Massage Techniques.
- I Thought I Knew Mama shares 5 Easy Ways for Pregnant Women to Reduce Their Exposure to Chemicals.
Preparing for Birth: Classes, Books, and Preparations
- A Little Bit of All of It discusses childbirth classes in a number of articles, including:
- Childbirth Education
- Lots of Thoughts on Childbirth Education
- Not All Childbirth Classes are Equal; or, You Get What You Pay For
- Preparing for Birth: Childbirth Education
- I Thought I Knew Mama shares The Benefits of a Private Natural Childbirth Class and Experiments in Natural Family Living: 5 First Steps Toward Preparing for a Natural Birth.
- A Little Bit of All of It reviews the books Gentle Birth Choices and The Thinking Woman’s Guide to a Better Birth.
- The Artful Mama describes her initial birth plans in I’m Only Half Planning a Natural Birth, and then shares how she handles changes to the plan in All This Over a Tub.
- Red and Honey also shares an update on her Birth Location Plans.
Care Providers and Birth Support
- A Little Bit of All of It offers her thoughts on Choosing a Care Provider for Prenatal Care. She also shares several links from other natural parents regarding Choosing a Care Provider and Birth Support, as well as a guest post on the topic of Doula Defined.
- The Artful Mama describe How (Not) to Interview Your Perspective Doula.
All About Siblings
- The Artful Mama offers her thoughts on Preparing Toddlers for Birth.
- Code Name: Mama describes How to Prepare Young Children for Childbirth. She also shares a very helpful collection of 30 Natural Birth Videos and Slideshows to Prepare Children for Labor and Birth (Plus Additional Resources).
- I Thought I Knew Mama talks about Caring for Your Toddler in the Last Weeks of Pregnancy: 7 Things That Work for Me.
Baby Needs and Registries
- Hybrid Rasta Mama shares some great money-saving tips in Don't Go Broke Because of Your Baby.
- Growing Slower offers her Green Baby Registry Part 2 with Printable Checklist.
- Strawberry Fields discusses Cloth Diapers.
- The Artful Mama details her Unexpected Registry.
- I Thought I Knew Mama suggests 5 Pregnancy Gifts for Mamas-to-Be.
Birth Plans
- A Little Bit of All of It describes her Birth Plan for Birth Center.
- Farmer's Daughter shares her Birth Plan, as well as a post-birth update!
- Hybrid Rasta Mama offers her thoughts along with a detailed sample Birth Plan.
Packing the Bag
- That Mama Gretchen encourage parents to pack A Birth Bag Especially for Dad.
- Momma Jorje shares her minimalist yet detailed list to help with Packing for the Hospital.
The Big Moment: Childbirth
- A Little Bit of All of It describes The Double Hip Squeeze – Comfort During Labor. She also shares the benefits of Waterbirth along with her own waterbirth experience.
- Barefoot, Christian and Crunchy finds peace in Understanding God will be my comfort in childbirth.
- The Hippie Housewife shares ways to encourage Birth Bonding between parents and the new baby.
_____________________
June's hop will take place over at Child Organics later this month, featuring the topic "Summer Fun for Children". Be sure to prepare your posts, new or previously-published, and look forward to another excellent collection of links!
Monday, 4 June 2012
Preparing siblings for a new baby
With less than three months to go, preparations are beginning in earnest for Mystery Baby. Then again, our preparations are rather basic; there's not a lot we need for a third baby and much of the work will be done closer to his or her expected arrival. Preparing the two boys, however, has been a process that begun the day we told them we were expecting and will continue in a different manner even after the baby has arrived.
Because each of our children were a month shy of two years old when I became pregnant with their younger sibling, we've been able to have conversations at a more detailed level than we otherwise may have. While some of the specifics have been a bit fuzzy or mixed up in their young minds, the basic concept has been relatively easy for them to grasp. These are some of the ways we introduce the children to the idea of a younger sibling; as always, I look forward to your additional suggestions in the comments.
Who do you love?
Talking about the people we love is one of our primary ways of introducing siblings to the idea of Mommy and Daddy loving the new baby as well as them. These lists take various forms, including "I love...", "who do you love?", and "who loves you?".
What will you do?
Two more casual conversations we use to introduce siblings to the idea of "life after the new baby" center on brainstorming things they can do with the baby and things they can do while the baby nurses/sleeps/etc.
"What will you do with the baby?" focuses on ways they can help care for the baby (assisting with diaper changes, for example), entertain the baby (such as singing songs or reading books to him or her), and gently show the baby love (soft touches, kisses, and so on).
"What will you do while the baby _____?" focuses more on them instead of on the baby. What can they do while the baby is nursing? They can, for example, snuggle beside me while I read to them. What can they do while the baby is sleeping? We can play board games or do puzzles together. What can they do when the baby is crying? Maybe sing quiet songs, make silly faces, or help Mommy get ready to feed the baby.
We talk about these things as they naturally arise in our day-to-day conversations, and the kids enjoy brainstorming with us. When they're done talking about it, no problem; we simply move on with our day.
Making it concrete
Interact with the baby
Both of the boys love feeling the baby move around inside of me. It gives them a chance to interact with the baby. Other interactive things they enjoy include putting their ear on my belly to "hear" the baby, assisting the midwife during our prenatal appointments, seeing the baby during ultrasounds, and speculating about what the baby is doing in there right now.
Look at the baby
While they can't see our own baby (aside from ultrasounds), looking at photos of babies in utero helps them to better understand how things work. For example, our toddler had become convinced that the baby was already drinking Mommy's milk; sitting down to look at a baby in the womb allowed me to point out the placenta, the umbilical cord, and give him a basic two-year-old-level introduction to the way baby receives nutrition while inside of me. Similarly, when the boy wanted to know how the baby got out, being able to point to the birth canal and show how the baby would move from the womb out into the world made things clearer than my initial verbal explanation had.
Our absolute favourite resource is the University of Maryland Medical Center's interactive fetal development slide. Both of the kids love seeing the baby grow bigger and smaller, bigger and smaller, over and over and over again. Personally, I just cringe at the visual of my organs being squished up towards my lungs; suddenly the heartburn and shortness of breath make complete sense.
Touch the baby
In addition to looking at photos of babies in utero, having opportunities where they can interact with real live babies has been excellent preparation. We are blessed to have many friends with little babies right now, so the toddler especially has had a great pre-introduction to the concepts of touching gently and not jabbing the baby in the eye.
Hold the baby
Finally, providing them with their own baby dolls gives them the chance to nurture their "baby" and experiment with the concepts of giving birth, nursing the baby, and caring for the baby. While girls are often given dolls automatically, boys too benefit from this opportunity to nurture a "baby" of their own, regardless of whether another little sibling is on the way. Our boys enjoy swaddling their babies, giving them "mommy's milk", putting them to sleep, carrying them in a child-sized baby carrier, and occasionally throwing them across the room or driving trucks over them.
Preparing for baby
Including children in preparations for the new baby is another way to help them feel involved with and connected to their soon-to-be sibling. Such involvement may include, for example:
Making transitions
Often some transitions will need to be made in preparation for the new baby. Many parents find pregnancy an opportune time to potty train, night wean, move the older sibling out of the family bed, or teach skills that will increase their independent activity. Such transitions, of course, will depend on the readiness of the individual child and the particular needs and desires of the family unit. When such transitions are undertaken in preparation for the new baby, it is preferable to make them well in advance and to avoid linking them to the new sibling. This decreases the likelihood of sibling resentment and jealousy as well as feelings of being displaced by the new baby.
With each pregnancy, we have moved the older child out of the family bed in preparation for having a new little one join us there. (Other parents choose to co-sleep with both the older child and the new baby. This is a great option that, with planning, can be done both safely and enjoyably.) This nighttime transition is done in gentle stages over the course of the pregnancy and is never framed in terms of "making room for the new baby"; likewise with other such preparatory transitions.
These types of preparations, along with a large dose of good fortune, helped ease our transition from one child to two. Our first child showed no signs of sibling jealousy, resentment, or regression upon the birth of his little brother. Whether we will have the same experience with the move from two children to three remains to be seen. So far, their excitement is encouraging! In the meantime, we will continue to prepare the boys for this new cherished member of our family while hoping for the smoothest possible transition for each of us.
How do you prepare older siblings for the arrival of a new baby?
Because each of our children were a month shy of two years old when I became pregnant with their younger sibling, we've been able to have conversations at a more detailed level than we otherwise may have. While some of the specifics have been a bit fuzzy or mixed up in their young minds, the basic concept has been relatively easy for them to grasp. These are some of the ways we introduce the children to the idea of a younger sibling; as always, I look forward to your additional suggestions in the comments.
Who do you love?
Talking about the people we love is one of our primary ways of introducing siblings to the idea of Mommy and Daddy loving the new baby as well as them. These lists take various forms, including "I love...", "who do you love?", and "who loves you?".
"Mommy loves you. I love your brother. I love Daddy. I love the new baby growing in my tummy. I love Grandma and Grandpa. I love Oma and Opa. I love..."These conversations are casual, spontaneous, filled with laughter (and often tickles), and take place even when we're not expecting a new baby. They are one of our bedtime calming games and a fun way to bond while remembering loved ones both near and far. We've found the "new baby" is soon added to their own lists after hearing our lists grow to include him or her.
What will you do?
Two more casual conversations we use to introduce siblings to the idea of "life after the new baby" center on brainstorming things they can do with the baby and things they can do while the baby nurses/sleeps/etc.
"What will you do with the baby?" focuses on ways they can help care for the baby (assisting with diaper changes, for example), entertain the baby (such as singing songs or reading books to him or her), and gently show the baby love (soft touches, kisses, and so on).
"What will you do while the baby _____?" focuses more on them instead of on the baby. What can they do while the baby is nursing? They can, for example, snuggle beside me while I read to them. What can they do while the baby is sleeping? We can play board games or do puzzles together. What can they do when the baby is crying? Maybe sing quiet songs, make silly faces, or help Mommy get ready to feed the baby.
We talk about these things as they naturally arise in our day-to-day conversations, and the kids enjoy brainstorming with us. When they're done talking about it, no problem; we simply move on with our day.
Making it concrete
Interact with the baby
Both of the boys love feeling the baby move around inside of me. It gives them a chance to interact with the baby. Other interactive things they enjoy include putting their ear on my belly to "hear" the baby, assisting the midwife during our prenatal appointments, seeing the baby during ultrasounds, and speculating about what the baby is doing in there right now.
Look at the baby
While they can't see our own baby (aside from ultrasounds), looking at photos of babies in utero helps them to better understand how things work. For example, our toddler had become convinced that the baby was already drinking Mommy's milk; sitting down to look at a baby in the womb allowed me to point out the placenta, the umbilical cord, and give him a basic two-year-old-level introduction to the way baby receives nutrition while inside of me. Similarly, when the boy wanted to know how the baby got out, being able to point to the birth canal and show how the baby would move from the womb out into the world made things clearer than my initial verbal explanation had.
Our absolute favourite resource is the University of Maryland Medical Center's interactive fetal development slide. Both of the kids love seeing the baby grow bigger and smaller, bigger and smaller, over and over and over again. Personally, I just cringe at the visual of my organs being squished up towards my lungs; suddenly the heartburn and shortness of breath make complete sense.
Touch the baby
In addition to looking at photos of babies in utero, having opportunities where they can interact with real live babies has been excellent preparation. We are blessed to have many friends with little babies right now, so the toddler especially has had a great pre-introduction to the concepts of touching gently and not jabbing the baby in the eye.
Hold the baby
Finally, providing them with their own baby dolls gives them the chance to nurture their "baby" and experiment with the concepts of giving birth, nursing the baby, and caring for the baby. While girls are often given dolls automatically, boys too benefit from this opportunity to nurture a "baby" of their own, regardless of whether another little sibling is on the way. Our boys enjoy swaddling their babies, giving them "mommy's milk", putting them to sleep, carrying them in a child-sized baby carrier, and occasionally throwing them across the room or driving trucks over them.
Preparing for baby
Including children in preparations for the new baby is another way to help them feel involved with and connected to their soon-to-be sibling. Such involvement may include, for example:
- choosing a new outfit or small toy,
- offering name suggestions,
- selecting "baby's first outfit",
- setting up a nursery,
- putting together baby equipment,
- sorting through clothing,
- stocking a diaper change area, or
- painting a picture to be hung near the baby's sleep space.
Making transitions
Often some transitions will need to be made in preparation for the new baby. Many parents find pregnancy an opportune time to potty train, night wean, move the older sibling out of the family bed, or teach skills that will increase their independent activity. Such transitions, of course, will depend on the readiness of the individual child and the particular needs and desires of the family unit. When such transitions are undertaken in preparation for the new baby, it is preferable to make them well in advance and to avoid linking them to the new sibling. This decreases the likelihood of sibling resentment and jealousy as well as feelings of being displaced by the new baby.
With each pregnancy, we have moved the older child out of the family bed in preparation for having a new little one join us there. (Other parents choose to co-sleep with both the older child and the new baby. This is a great option that, with planning, can be done both safely and enjoyably.) This nighttime transition is done in gentle stages over the course of the pregnancy and is never framed in terms of "making room for the new baby"; likewise with other such preparatory transitions.
These types of preparations, along with a large dose of good fortune, helped ease our transition from one child to two. Our first child showed no signs of sibling jealousy, resentment, or regression upon the birth of his little brother. Whether we will have the same experience with the move from two children to three remains to be seen. So far, their excitement is encouraging! In the meantime, we will continue to prepare the boys for this new cherished member of our family while hoping for the smoothest possible transition for each of us.
How do you prepare older siblings for the arrival of a new baby?
Monday, 21 May 2012
NPN Blog Hop: Preparing for Baby the Natural Way
May’s theme is Preparing For Baby The Natural Way!
How To Participate:
Share your favorite post that coincides with the monthly topic. Add your URL in the linky form below. The linky will be available until this coming Sunday, May 27th at 11:59pm, so feel free to link up your post any time this week! Your post does not have to be new, just on topic.
We would love for you to grab the html for the Natural Parents Blog Hop button and either add it to your blog sidebar or as a picture in your actual blog post:
Visit some of the other blog posts that are linked up for the week, and be sure to leave them a comment letting them know that you are visiting from the Natural Parents Blog Hop. If time is not on your side, please at least click on the post immediately before yours on the linky list and leave a comment. The #1 link on the list can comment on a post on our current host's blog. The more support we can lend each other, the better!
Be sure to stop by the official NPN Blog Hop page on the Natural Parents Network site. You can find links to previous blog hops as well as find out when and where the next hop will be!
Friday, 18 May 2012
Letting go and celebrating small victories
I'm tired.
Really, to say I'm tired feels like a ridiculous understatement. This past month has been the lowest I've felt quite possibly ever. I'm tired in that if-I-have-to-stand-up-I-might-cry sort of way. Just let me sleep and then sleep some more. Please.
But I can't. I'm pregnant and raising two small children and I'm surviving but some days that doesn't feel like much.
I'm tired.
And no wonder. After my blood test last week, my midwife phoned to tell me my iron levels had dropped significantly and my iron stores had plummeted spectacularly since my last blood test. The Floradix I'd been taking, which had thus far allowed me to do such things as feed the children and maintain some semblance of being on top of the housework, wasn't enough. So I have more iron supplements on the way, along with some chlorella, and maybe I'll soon be able to return to the land of the living.
In the meantime, you know what? I'm not dealing so well. I cry. A lot. I cannot even tell you how very much I am not a crier. I didn't cry when my husband proposed. I didn't cry on our wedding day. Not when I saw the positive pregnancy tests, nor when I saw all the disappointing negative ones in between the first two. I didn't cry when my babies were born. I didn't cry when my granddad died. I've often felt guilty about it, even as a very little child, but I just don't cry.
Yet here I am, sobbing in the shower and when I lay down in bed and when I have to somehow find the energy to get dressed. And when I'm not crying, I feel like I'm about two seconds away from doing so.
Everything feels like a huge deal. I need to make a decision? Cue the tears. Don't make me decide anything. Please. I see another disgusting "we must WIN THIS CULTURE WAR!!!1111ELEVENTY!!!!" post on Facebook? Cue the tears. And the rage. And the dwelling on it for the next week. Oh yes. Overreaction has become my new constant companion.
I have no appetite. I haven't had an appetite since before I was pregnant. I don't want food. I don't want to think about food. I don't want to cook food. I don't want to plan what food everyone else is going to eat. I don't want to have to think, period.
But the worst of it is myself and my shoulds.
It's a nice day out. I should take the kids to the park.
It's noon. I should figure out what I'm going to make for dinner.
Dinner's done. We should go for our evening walk through the forest trails behind our house.
It's Saturday. We should go to the farmer's market and then have a picnic afterwards.
I should take the kids swimming, like I've been promising forever. I should do more with them. I should work more with the boy on his reading and writing. I should I should I should should should.
And this is probably just more overreaction on my part, but I'm tired of the blame being placed on Pinterest, or on "mommy blogs", or on Facebook, or on whatever. These shoulds are all mine, baby. I'm not trying to make a "pinnable" life. I'm not trying to live up to some image projected by any of the bloggers I follow. It might be easy to blame our whatever - perceived shortcomings, longings, misplaced motivations - on Pinterest or blogs or Facebook or insert other online target here, but the truth is it's just me and my own expectations of myself.
So I'm letting go and celebrating the small victories. No more shoulds, just reality. If we don't make it further than our front yard, awesome. If all I can bring myself to make for dinner is a pot of oatmeal, awesome. If we sit in bed and read ten books together instead of going for a walk, awesome. If we go to Timmie's after the farmer's market instead of having a lovely outdoor picnic that I've prepared the night before, doubly awesome, because I love Timmie's.
Whatever. I made it through another day? I'm awesome. Go me and my utter lack of iron. I can be a different kind of awesome when I have the energy I need to raise my arms above my head and wash my own damn hair without crying. For now, this is my awesome.
And I'm celebrating this week's small victories:
Celebrate with me? Share your own small victories from this week. Because you're awesome too.
Really, to say I'm tired feels like a ridiculous understatement. This past month has been the lowest I've felt quite possibly ever. I'm tired in that if-I-have-to-stand-up-I-might-cry sort of way. Just let me sleep and then sleep some more. Please.
But I can't. I'm pregnant and raising two small children and I'm surviving but some days that doesn't feel like much.
I'm tired.
And no wonder. After my blood test last week, my midwife phoned to tell me my iron levels had dropped significantly and my iron stores had plummeted spectacularly since my last blood test. The Floradix I'd been taking, which had thus far allowed me to do such things as feed the children and maintain some semblance of being on top of the housework, wasn't enough. So I have more iron supplements on the way, along with some chlorella, and maybe I'll soon be able to return to the land of the living.
In the meantime, you know what? I'm not dealing so well. I cry. A lot. I cannot even tell you how very much I am not a crier. I didn't cry when my husband proposed. I didn't cry on our wedding day. Not when I saw the positive pregnancy tests, nor when I saw all the disappointing negative ones in between the first two. I didn't cry when my babies were born. I didn't cry when my granddad died. I've often felt guilty about it, even as a very little child, but I just don't cry.
Yet here I am, sobbing in the shower and when I lay down in bed and when I have to somehow find the energy to get dressed. And when I'm not crying, I feel like I'm about two seconds away from doing so.
Everything feels like a huge deal. I need to make a decision? Cue the tears. Don't make me decide anything. Please. I see another disgusting "we must WIN THIS CULTURE WAR!!!1111ELEVENTY!!!!" post on Facebook? Cue the tears. And the rage. And the dwelling on it for the next week. Oh yes. Overreaction has become my new constant companion.
I have no appetite. I haven't had an appetite since before I was pregnant. I don't want food. I don't want to think about food. I don't want to cook food. I don't want to plan what food everyone else is going to eat. I don't want to have to think, period.
But the worst of it is myself and my shoulds.
It's a nice day out. I should take the kids to the park.
It's noon. I should figure out what I'm going to make for dinner.
Dinner's done. We should go for our evening walk through the forest trails behind our house.
It's Saturday. We should go to the farmer's market and then have a picnic afterwards.
I should take the kids swimming, like I've been promising forever. I should do more with them. I should work more with the boy on his reading and writing. I should I should I should should should.
And this is probably just more overreaction on my part, but I'm tired of the blame being placed on Pinterest, or on "mommy blogs", or on Facebook, or on whatever. These shoulds are all mine, baby. I'm not trying to make a "pinnable" life. I'm not trying to live up to some image projected by any of the bloggers I follow. It might be easy to blame our whatever - perceived shortcomings, longings, misplaced motivations - on Pinterest or blogs or Facebook or insert other online target here, but the truth is it's just me and my own expectations of myself.
So I'm letting go and celebrating the small victories. No more shoulds, just reality. If we don't make it further than our front yard, awesome. If all I can bring myself to make for dinner is a pot of oatmeal, awesome. If we sit in bed and read ten books together instead of going for a walk, awesome. If we go to Timmie's after the farmer's market instead of having a lovely outdoor picnic that I've prepared the night before, doubly awesome, because I love Timmie's.
Whatever. I made it through another day? I'm awesome. Go me and my utter lack of iron. I can be a different kind of awesome when I have the energy I need to raise my arms above my head and wash my own damn hair without crying. For now, this is my awesome.
And I'm celebrating this week's small victories:
- We searched out some new adventures earlier this week. Two toddlers, the boy, and myself, we walked down to the open field before the playground and I sat on a blanket, throwing balls for them to chase. Then we became pirates looking for treasure, and they brought all sorts of lovely things to me. I handed over the water bottle so they could make a little patch of mud to play in. It was lovely and simple and hey, it was something beyond the front yard. Victory.
- We ate. Every day. Victory.
- Bedtime the past two nights? Happened without any yelling or impatience on my part. Victory.
- We went to the library before yesterday's midwife appointment and brought home a stack of awesomeness. And then we read through half of them in one sitting. Victory.
- I scrubbed under the kitchen table so that my mother-in-law's feet wouldn't stick to the floor when she visited this weekend. Would she have cared if I hadn't? Not even a tiny little bit. Was it my own stupid pride that had me down on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor last night? You bet. Am I going to celebrate it anyway? Absolutely. Victory.
- The kids and I are all freshly bathed/showered and ready to go grocery shopping when the husband is finished school today. I've even planned a couple of meals. My mother-in-law won't be offered oatmeal for dinner while she's visiting. Victory.
- I'm letting go of self-imposed shoulds and embracing what is. Victory.
Celebrate with me? Share your own small victories from this week. Because you're awesome too.
Monday, 7 May 2012
Surviving Pregnancy with Toddlers and Preschoolers
For most mothers, pregnancy is exhausting. Being pregnant while taking care of other little children, however, is exhaustion taken to a whole new level. The constant demands, both physical and emotional, combine with the physical and emotional demands of pregnancy and can feel overwhelming at times. More than halfway through my third pregnancy, my second one with young children to care for, there are some things that have helped me through:
Be straightforward with your kids about how you're feeling. When you're feeling tired or sick, explain that it takes lots of energy to grow a baby. Talk about the foods the baby needs to grow strong. Apologize for bad days and reassure them that it wasn't their fault. Engage them in the pregnancy by letting them feel the baby kick, looking at illustrations of growing babies (our favourite fetal development animation is this one), and talking about how big the baby is in comparison to fruit or other tangible objects. The more involved they are in the pregnancy, the greater their cooperation and understanding is likely to be.
Find engaging activities that you can do from the couch. Some of our favourites include puzzles, card games, board games that take up little space (The Kids of Carcassonne is our newest favourite), and catch with a soft indoor-friendly ball. A small portable end table, card table, or TV tray has big value here. When I'm feeling up to it, the three of us will snuggled together with blankets and pile of books for some out-loud reading time.
Teach skills that will increase their independent activity. While this is an ongoing activity throughout childhood, pregnancy is a common time to take stock of what skills your child is able to learn to do on his or her own. Depending on the age of the child, this may include cleaning up spills, tidying toys, using the toilet, increasing their bathroom independence, setting out breakfast dishes and utensils, getting water, preparing basic snacks and breakfasts (buttering toast, putting yogurt in a bowl, washing an apple), putting clothes in the hamper, and so on. Be cautious, however, about pushing too hard. It is easy, particularly once the new baby has arrived, to see your bigger children as older, more mature, and more capable than they really are.
Nap. These may not be the long, solid, whenever-you-feel-like-it naps of a first pregnancy, but nap when you can. If your children still nap, ignore the dirty dishes in the sink and sleep at the same time they do. If they don't nap, you still have options:
Don't neglect your own needs. The challenges of parenting while pregnant greatly increase if you allow yourself to get too tired, too hungry, or too worn down. Keep easy-to-grab foods on hand, such as almonds, hard-boiled eggs, apples, and yogurt. Combine carbohydrates with protein and fruit with fat to maintain stable blood sugar levels. Be sure to eat iron-rich foods; nothing saps energy quite like an iron deficiency. Make time for chiropractic visits or prenatal massages if needed. Along with caring for yourself:
Prepare for morning the night before. Slice strawberries to go with the morning's yogurt, make a batch of waffles to quickly reheat in the morning, or prepare a crock-pot breakfast. If you will be going somewhere the following day, lay out clothing and have snacks and supplies ready to go. Do, however, take into account your own individual pregnancy. If evenings are your rough time of the day, then do some extra prep in the earlier hours instead - put dinner in the crock-pot, lay out bedtime supplies, prepare bedtime snacks, and so on.
Take advantage of bursts of energy. Use this time to do spurts of housework, bigger activities with the kids, or preparations for low-supervision-required activities. Then when those bad days hit, you can rest without feeling stressed about falling behind, and the kids can enjoy the self-directed activities you have prepared.
What did you find helpful in getting through pregnancy with a toddler or young child?
Be straightforward with your kids about how you're feeling. When you're feeling tired or sick, explain that it takes lots of energy to grow a baby. Talk about the foods the baby needs to grow strong. Apologize for bad days and reassure them that it wasn't their fault. Engage them in the pregnancy by letting them feel the baby kick, looking at illustrations of growing babies (our favourite fetal development animation is this one), and talking about how big the baby is in comparison to fruit or other tangible objects. The more involved they are in the pregnancy, the greater their cooperation and understanding is likely to be.
Find engaging activities that you can do from the couch. Some of our favourites include puzzles, card games, board games that take up little space (The Kids of Carcassonne is our newest favourite), and catch with a soft indoor-friendly ball. A small portable end table, card table, or TV tray has big value here. When I'm feeling up to it, the three of us will snuggled together with blankets and pile of books for some out-loud reading time.
Teach skills that will increase their independent activity. While this is an ongoing activity throughout childhood, pregnancy is a common time to take stock of what skills your child is able to learn to do on his or her own. Depending on the age of the child, this may include cleaning up spills, tidying toys, using the toilet, increasing their bathroom independence, setting out breakfast dishes and utensils, getting water, preparing basic snacks and breakfasts (buttering toast, putting yogurt in a bowl, washing an apple), putting clothes in the hamper, and so on. Be cautious, however, about pushing too hard. It is easy, particularly once the new baby has arrived, to see your bigger children as older, more mature, and more capable than they really are.
Nap. These may not be the long, solid, whenever-you-feel-like-it naps of a first pregnancy, but nap when you can. If your children still nap, ignore the dirty dishes in the sink and sleep at the same time they do. If they don't nap, you still have options:
- Settle them into a self-directed activity (don't rule out the TV) and lay down on the couch to close your eyes for a while.
- Replace child naps with a family quiet time. Depending on what works best for your family, either have each child spend quiet time on their own or have everyone pile into your bedroom with a stack of books and a few small toys. The kids can play quietly, look at books, or nap while you rest.
- Take a pre-dinner nap while your partner cares for the kids (even better if they cook dinner, too!)
- Let yourself fall asleep while putting the kids to bed in the evening. Getting up again is optional! An early bedtime can make a big difference the next day.
Don't neglect your own needs. The challenges of parenting while pregnant greatly increase if you allow yourself to get too tired, too hungry, or too worn down. Keep easy-to-grab foods on hand, such as almonds, hard-boiled eggs, apples, and yogurt. Combine carbohydrates with protein and fruit with fat to maintain stable blood sugar levels. Be sure to eat iron-rich foods; nothing saps energy quite like an iron deficiency. Make time for chiropractic visits or prenatal massages if needed. Along with caring for yourself:
- Let it go. Simplify your daily life, prioritize your responsibilities, and reduce your expectations.
- Minimize obligations. This is very much a season in which to say no; you cannot be all things to all people.
- Accept help. Whether from your partner, friends, family, a mother's helper, or a cleaning service, accept help when offered or seek it when needed.
Prepare for morning the night before. Slice strawberries to go with the morning's yogurt, make a batch of waffles to quickly reheat in the morning, or prepare a crock-pot breakfast. If you will be going somewhere the following day, lay out clothing and have snacks and supplies ready to go. Do, however, take into account your own individual pregnancy. If evenings are your rough time of the day, then do some extra prep in the earlier hours instead - put dinner in the crock-pot, lay out bedtime supplies, prepare bedtime snacks, and so on.
Take advantage of bursts of energy. Use this time to do spurts of housework, bigger activities with the kids, or preparations for low-supervision-required activities. Then when those bad days hit, you can rest without feeling stressed about falling behind, and the kids can enjoy the self-directed activities you have prepared.
What did you find helpful in getting through pregnancy with a toddler or young child?
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Vacancy
A week before the baby turned one, I had a sudden moment of clarity. I turned to my half-asleep husband and said, "oh! That explains it!"
"What explains what?" he mumbled.
"It's almost the baby's first birthday! That explains why I've been so aware of my empty womb lately!"
(He groaned in response.)
It was true, though. I had, for the past couple of weeks, been very aware of the fact that a) I had a uterus, and b) it was currently empty.
It wasn't that I actively desired to have another baby right away. I have a baby, and I take care of a second one part time. I'm good in the baby department. If God chooses to bless us with another baby so soon, I will be thrilled, but I'm not currently longing for one.
I am simply very aware of my womb's presence and its current vacancy. It feels very...odd, I think, to have this womb just sitting there, taking up space, not doing anything. Just hanging out in there, vacancy sign flashing.
I can only assume that it was the baby's upcoming birthday that had pushed said vacancy so suddenly to the forefront of my mind. It was when my oldest son turned one that my husband and I started "trying" for a second child. Because I continued to breastfeed our son, however, lactational amenorrhea meant it would be nearly another year before we received our much-coveted positive pregnancy test.
This time, I do not feel the same sense of urgency. My baby is only a year old. My husband and I have chosen, for a number of reasons (physical, emotional, and spiritual) not to use birth control, and breastfeeding allows our children to be naturally spaced, God's perfect design to give a mother's body time to rest between pregnancies. I feel calm this time, content to accept and appreciate that spacing, looking forward to having life fill this vacant womb again but not yearning for it to happen now, on my timing. Instead, I will enjoy and rejoice in my little one's babyhood, being fully present in each moment, not rushing this season away prematurely.
My womb may be vacant, but my heart and my life are so beautifully full.
"What explains what?" he mumbled.
"It's almost the baby's first birthday! That explains why I've been so aware of my empty womb lately!"
(He groaned in response.)
It was true, though. I had, for the past couple of weeks, been very aware of the fact that a) I had a uterus, and b) it was currently empty.
It wasn't that I actively desired to have another baby right away. I have a baby, and I take care of a second one part time. I'm good in the baby department. If God chooses to bless us with another baby so soon, I will be thrilled, but I'm not currently longing for one.
I am simply very aware of my womb's presence and its current vacancy. It feels very...odd, I think, to have this womb just sitting there, taking up space, not doing anything. Just hanging out in there, vacancy sign flashing.
I can only assume that it was the baby's upcoming birthday that had pushed said vacancy so suddenly to the forefront of my mind. It was when my oldest son turned one that my husband and I started "trying" for a second child. Because I continued to breastfeed our son, however, lactational amenorrhea meant it would be nearly another year before we received our much-coveted positive pregnancy test.
This time, I do not feel the same sense of urgency. My baby is only a year old. My husband and I have chosen, for a number of reasons (physical, emotional, and spiritual) not to use birth control, and breastfeeding allows our children to be naturally spaced, God's perfect design to give a mother's body time to rest between pregnancies. I feel calm this time, content to accept and appreciate that spacing, looking forward to having life fill this vacant womb again but not yearning for it to happen now, on my timing. Instead, I will enjoy and rejoice in my little one's babyhood, being fully present in each moment, not rushing this season away prematurely.
My womb may be vacant, but my heart and my life are so beautifully full.
Thursday, 9 September 2010
Etsy clothes
I've only been meaning to write this entry for, oh, nine months now. I have such a hard time finding good maternity and nursing clothes, but these two Etsy shops have made such a difference this time around!
I discovered Getti's Accessories during my last pregnancy. I don't know what it is about maternity clothes, but they all seem to want to capitalize on the woman's newfound cleavage. While I might admit to enjoying my suddenly huge, er, "tracts of land", I've no desire to show them off. Thank you, Getti's Accessories! This shop sells three different types of t-lets (square neck, straight neck, and scoop neck) as well as crop tops. The t-lets end under the bust, which is ideal for someone like me who can't stand the feel of wearing two shirts for layering purposes. I have one straight neck and one scoop neck, and these things were perfect for heightening my low maternity shirt necklines.
In addition to the great cleavage cover they provided while pregnant, I have loved them even more in these postpartum nursing days. Worn under a buttoned or low-cut tank, t-shirt, or sweater, these t-lets double as an instant nursing shirt. Unbutton/pull down the shirt, pull up the t-let, and there you go - easy access with full coverage. Love it!
On the bottom half, I love the skirts I purchased from Astraea Apparel last year (a combination birthday splurge and new maternity wardrobe). Sadly, her shop is empty right now, but I'm hoping she'll post some new listings eventually. I have two medium-length skirts, one long skirt, and one wrap skirt from her. All of them were great throughout my pregnancy - the regular skirts had nice waistbands that sat comfortably below my belly, and the wrap skirt of course adjusted to whatever size I needed. They all fit just as wonderfully now, nine months postpartum. Sadly, I splashed bleach all over the bottom of the long skirt shortly after it arrived - one of only two times I've ever needed to use bleach. Figures!
I love Etsy, I love supporting handmade, and I love the products these two shops provide. Any great Etsy shops you've discovered lately?
I discovered Getti's Accessories during my last pregnancy. I don't know what it is about maternity clothes, but they all seem to want to capitalize on the woman's newfound cleavage. While I might admit to enjoying my suddenly huge, er, "tracts of land", I've no desire to show them off. Thank you, Getti's Accessories! This shop sells three different types of t-lets (square neck, straight neck, and scoop neck) as well as crop tops. The t-lets end under the bust, which is ideal for someone like me who can't stand the feel of wearing two shirts for layering purposes. I have one straight neck and one scoop neck, and these things were perfect for heightening my low maternity shirt necklines.
In addition to the great cleavage cover they provided while pregnant, I have loved them even more in these postpartum nursing days. Worn under a buttoned or low-cut tank, t-shirt, or sweater, these t-lets double as an instant nursing shirt. Unbutton/pull down the shirt, pull up the t-let, and there you go - easy access with full coverage. Love it!
On the bottom half, I love the skirts I purchased from Astraea Apparel last year (a combination birthday splurge and new maternity wardrobe). Sadly, her shop is empty right now, but I'm hoping she'll post some new listings eventually. I have two medium-length skirts, one long skirt, and one wrap skirt from her. All of them were great throughout my pregnancy - the regular skirts had nice waistbands that sat comfortably below my belly, and the wrap skirt of course adjusted to whatever size I needed. They all fit just as wonderfully now, nine months postpartum. Sadly, I splashed bleach all over the bottom of the long skirt shortly after it arrived - one of only two times I've ever needed to use bleach. Figures!
I love Etsy, I love supporting handmade, and I love the products these two shops provide. Any great Etsy shops you've discovered lately?
(Disclaimer: I have not been asked to review these products. I receive no compensation for doing so, nor for any resulting sales. I just really love these clothes.)
Monday, 21 December 2009
The birth of our second son
Our second son was born at 11:37pm on Saturday, December 19, 2009, after less than one hour of labour.
A week overdue, I was feeling frustrated and impatient that day. I had thought I was in labour two days earlier, having weak but steady ctx all evening, but they disappeared overnight and came only sporadically on Friday and Saturday. There was nothing strong or regular about them. Because the baby had been alternating between OP and ROA, I spent a lot of time on my hands and knees trying to get him turned the right way. I also spent a lot of time walking with my MIL, who was in town to take care of our 2.5 year old son during our planned homebirth.
After playing a game with the husband and MIL, we started preparing to go to bed at 10:30 that night. As we sat there talking for a little while, I had a few strong ctx, strong enough that MIL noticed, as I had a hard time carrying on the conversation through them. I thought it might be labour starting but wasn’t certain as they felt very unusual; also, by this point I didn’t want to get my hopes up until I was sure it was the real thing.
I felt an increasing desire to use the bathroom, which was one of the signs I had been waiting for. After one particularly strong ctx, I asked Isaac to help me to the bathroom and told him I would call him when I was done. It was approximately 11:15pm. At the time, I intended to let my body clear its bowels and then settle in with my laptop to time the ctx and begin to focus on labour. I knew it was definitely labour when, as soon as the door was closed, a hot flash hit and I peeled off all of my clothes.
It was a relief to use the bathroom, but I was still on the toilet when another ctx hit, even stronger than the last. I started to get nervous at the thought of several hours of labour with such painful ctx – it was nothing like I remembered with my first labour. I was just preparing to get off the toilet and find a place to settle in to labour when another ctx came and, after an intense pressure, my water broke in a big gush. It was both a relief (physically) and a disappointment (emotionally). My water hadn’t broken during my last labour until right at the end, so having it break at (what I thought was) the start of labour wasn’t my ideal, as I had tested GBS+ and would have preferred my waters stay intact for as long as possible.
I called Isaac to tell him my water had broken and he should call the midwife. It was 11:25pm. As he began to do that, another ctx came, even stronger than the last. Everything is a bit of a blur from this point on. I knew I needed to move now because I wasn’t going to be able to move soon if they were hurting this bad already. I yelled for my MIL to come, fast. She rushed in and asked if I wanted to move to the bedroom. I managed to get out “no…tub!”, as I still didn’t realize the baby was coming and I wanted to labour in the tub. She started to fill it when suddenly I felt the baby descend through the birth canal. I reached down and felt the head crowning. I yelled that the baby was coming. Poor MIL was trying to figure out what to do and Isaac was on the phone with the midwife. The head didn’t stop, it just kept coming, so (not wanting to give birth right there on the toilet!) I managed to get myself onto the floor on my knees, leaning on the tub with one hand and holding the head with the other. MIL shoved a towel underneath me. I was most definitely “vocalizing”, to put it mildly, and recall reminding myself to keep my voice deep rather than high. The rest of the head came out quickly. All of that happened within the span of one ctx.
By this point, the midwife had told Isaac to hang up and phone 911. He was talking with them as the head emerged. I let go of the head and leaned on the tub to rest before the next ctx came. It came almost immediately and the rest of the body was delivered into my MIL’s waiting hands. I don’t recall pushing at all with either of the ctx. It felt like my body and gravity did all of the work. She laid him on the towel and I rested on the edge of the tub, exhausted and relieved and shocked. It was, as best as we can estimate, 11:37pm.
After catching my breath, I looked back and the first thing I saw was that our little baby was most definitely a boy! I brought him up between my legs and just held him. Isaac came in to see and to let me know the paramedics were on the way. I replied less than positively to that, but calmed down when he got the deer-in-the-headlights look and said the midwife had told him to, poor guy. (In hindsight, of course, it was the obvious and wise thing to do, but at the time all I could think was that we were fine and I didn’t want paramedics there.) We admired our new son together. My MIL came in next. I thanked her over and over, and she thanked God over and over. Now that he was here and everything seemed fine, there was such a sense of awe and relief and shock.
The paramedics arrived at this point, finding me still on my knees facing the tub with my back to the door, clutching the baby and trying to get my mind around the fact that I had just given birth. The huge paramedic maneuvered his way into our small bathroom and started talking to me. This man deserves a medal for having to deal with me, as I wasn’t at my most cooperative at this point. He wanted me to lay down, which sounded incredibly unappealing to me, as the bathroom floor was cold and hard and covered in blood and water from the birth. I didn’t want to lay down, I was perfectly comfortable where I was. He wanted the baby lower than the placenta, which seemed impossible to me at the time, since I didn’t want to just lay the baby on the floor. I’m not sure what all happened in the couple minutes after he arrived. I know I was repeatedly covered with a towel, which kept falling off, and he kept trying to move me when I didn’t want to be moved. At one point he stepped out to get something and I quietly delivered the placenta, still on my knees and still holding the baby. I told him the placenta was here and I was ready for him now.
He came in and started trying to move me again, but I was tangled in the cord and didn’t know where exactly he wanted me in the first place. Finally I told him to stop. I asked him to please just tell me what he wanted me to do and I would do it, just stop trying to move me and stop trying to take the baby. He said he wanted me to sit back. This was still really unappealing to me, but I felt bad for being so difficult when he was just trying to do his job so I figured I should make an effort to be more cooperative. I got myself untangled and allowed him to help me sit back on the floor. He clamped and cut the cord. The poor guy, his hands were shaking so hard as he clamped and cut. He checked to make sure the placenta was whole (it was) and placed it in a plastic bag. He tried again to take the baby, but I told him no, I wanted my husband to take him. (I feel mean about that now, but at the time I just wanted Isaac to be the first one besides me to hold the baby.) I called Isaac and handed him his son.
I was shaking a lot, as expected, and the paramedic had them bring me warm towels from the dryer. He told me then that I needed to get up so they could get me to the hospital. I said I didn’t want or need to go, and the second paramedic stepped in to reassure me that there was no rush and maybe I could go lie down on my bed for a few minutes so they could check everything out. I didn’t know whether to believe him or whether he was just trying to get me to stand up. Isaac tells me that no, the second paramedic really was okay with not transferring, since we had been planning a homebirth anyway, while the first paramedic was quite adamant that I be transferred. I asked where my midwife was and Isaac assured me she was on the way.
I did allow them to help me stand up. The second paramedic wanted me to move to the bed, but I was covered in blood and really didn’t want to spread that all around. The first paramedic kept offering me a pad, which felt to me a bit like offering a bandage to close up a surgery site. There was a lot more blood than that little thing was going to take care of. I asked the second paramedic if I could shower first. I laugh about the ridiculousness of that request now, but at the time it seemed entirely logical – I was a mess and I wanted to rinse off before moving to my nice clean bedroom. He said no, I couldn’t have a shower, so I handed him the bag of blue chux pads I’d had ready for the homebirth. He put a couple of them on the bed while I grabbed a towel and wiped myself off as best I could, then finally accepted the continually offered pad from the first paramedic. We moved to the bed and I was handed the baby and encouraged to continue to try to latch him (he had been trying to latch in the bathroom but hadn’t quite managed it yet). He latched on right away this time. The paramedic took my blood pressure and asked me some questions.
My midwife arrived around this point and started checking us over. She talked to the paramedics and they agreed to leave me in her care, since we had been planning a homebirth anyway. I thanked them repeatedly, appreciating both their care and their patience with me. Isaac went with them to sign all the release forms on our behalf. It felt very important to me at the time to convince everyone that the unassisted birth truly had been unexpected. The paramedics, the midwife, MIL – even my husband carefully asked later that evening if I had known the baby was about to be born when I’d gone into the washroom. But no, I hadn’t the slightest idea that after only a handful of hard ctx that had started less than an hour ago, my water would break and the baby would be completely delivered two ctx later.
I didn’t see them, but four firemen followed my midwife in the door. Our older boy was pretty much over the moon at this point. He had woken up sometime when all the “the baby is coming!!!” yelling and chaos started. MIL and Isaac had taken turns watching him while the other helped me. He was pretty much occupied, though, when first the ambulance came, then the firetruck (“Are they going to climb up in the ladder??”), and then four firemen in uniform. He was wearing his firetruck pajamas that night. One of the firemen pointed that out to him; I recall hearing that, but I didn’t realize at the time that there were four firemen crowded in our little entrance way, talking with my very excited little boy. He kept telling them, “my name is Jay, and there is a firetruck outside!” They all left as soon as it was determined that I would not be transferred. They had come because we have a very steep set of stairs, sharp turn, and narrow walkway, none of which would have made a transfer easy.
Once the firemen and paramedics left, everything settled down. We made our phone calls to family to share the news. The baby and I were both doing well. The baby’s temperature was a bit low but warmed up quickly after some skin-to-skin contact. He weighed 8.5 lbs. I hadn’t torn at all. I was finally able to have that shower I’d asked for earlier, which felt wonderful. The midwife was impressed with the “efficiency” of my body – the fast delivery, the lack of tearing, the quick delivery of the placenta, and the way my uterus had clamped right up and the bleeding had already slowed down.
The midwife left after two hours. I couldn’t believe it had already been that long. We were all too keyed up to sleep. The new big brother laid down on our floor and played with cars, MIL went to bed but didn’t sleep at all, and Isaac and I spent some time on our computers and watched a bit of a show before turning out the lights sometime around 4am. Our new little boy dozed on my lap, nursing off and on and being thoroughly admired and marveled over.
I was surprised at how little pain I felt afterwards. My stomach has been uncomfortable any time I stand up since then, but otherwise I’ve been feeling great. I had been so sore after our first son's birth and I expected to feel the same way this time – but then again, nothing at all has been the same this time, not the pregnancy, not the labour, and most definitely not the delivery!
It took us several hours and many discussions, but we finally settled on a name we both liked. It was originally a name we had been considering as the middle name, but my husband so rarely has definite opinions on something that I agreed to let it be his first name since he liked it so much. His middle name is both my dad and my granddad’s middle name. His second middle name is a masculine form of my MIL’s name, as she was the one who caught him when he was born and it felt right to honour that as part of his name. Coincidentally, it is also a form of my FIL’s middle name.
We are so grateful that everything turned out well with this unexpected unassisted delivery. Although we had been planning a homebirth, we very much intended to have our midwife be there for it. Thinking back on the “what if’s”, many thanks have been given to God for the safe arrival of our son. At the same time, it has been so affirming to us to have witnessed my body and instinct take over and achieve what is today typically viewed as a medical procedure. Everything happened as it should and with no need for any sort of intervention or active management. Even so, I appreciate that medical management is available when needed and will always be grateful that it wasn’t necessary for us and that our son is here and healthy and safe.
Everything is going wonderfully so far. He is a very calm little boy, easily settled and very mellow. He is perfect, absolutely beautiful. Nursing is going well, no problems at all. Jay adores him and loves to hold him, stroke him, look at him and cuddle next to him. It is amazing how seamlessly this little boy has become a part of our family. We feel so blessed right now.
A week overdue, I was feeling frustrated and impatient that day. I had thought I was in labour two days earlier, having weak but steady ctx all evening, but they disappeared overnight and came only sporadically on Friday and Saturday. There was nothing strong or regular about them. Because the baby had been alternating between OP and ROA, I spent a lot of time on my hands and knees trying to get him turned the right way. I also spent a lot of time walking with my MIL, who was in town to take care of our 2.5 year old son during our planned homebirth.
After playing a game with the husband and MIL, we started preparing to go to bed at 10:30 that night. As we sat there talking for a little while, I had a few strong ctx, strong enough that MIL noticed, as I had a hard time carrying on the conversation through them. I thought it might be labour starting but wasn’t certain as they felt very unusual; also, by this point I didn’t want to get my hopes up until I was sure it was the real thing.
I felt an increasing desire to use the bathroom, which was one of the signs I had been waiting for. After one particularly strong ctx, I asked Isaac to help me to the bathroom and told him I would call him when I was done. It was approximately 11:15pm. At the time, I intended to let my body clear its bowels and then settle in with my laptop to time the ctx and begin to focus on labour. I knew it was definitely labour when, as soon as the door was closed, a hot flash hit and I peeled off all of my clothes.
It was a relief to use the bathroom, but I was still on the toilet when another ctx hit, even stronger than the last. I started to get nervous at the thought of several hours of labour with such painful ctx – it was nothing like I remembered with my first labour. I was just preparing to get off the toilet and find a place to settle in to labour when another ctx came and, after an intense pressure, my water broke in a big gush. It was both a relief (physically) and a disappointment (emotionally). My water hadn’t broken during my last labour until right at the end, so having it break at (what I thought was) the start of labour wasn’t my ideal, as I had tested GBS+ and would have preferred my waters stay intact for as long as possible.
I called Isaac to tell him my water had broken and he should call the midwife. It was 11:25pm. As he began to do that, another ctx came, even stronger than the last. Everything is a bit of a blur from this point on. I knew I needed to move now because I wasn’t going to be able to move soon if they were hurting this bad already. I yelled for my MIL to come, fast. She rushed in and asked if I wanted to move to the bedroom. I managed to get out “no…tub!”, as I still didn’t realize the baby was coming and I wanted to labour in the tub. She started to fill it when suddenly I felt the baby descend through the birth canal. I reached down and felt the head crowning. I yelled that the baby was coming. Poor MIL was trying to figure out what to do and Isaac was on the phone with the midwife. The head didn’t stop, it just kept coming, so (not wanting to give birth right there on the toilet!) I managed to get myself onto the floor on my knees, leaning on the tub with one hand and holding the head with the other. MIL shoved a towel underneath me. I was most definitely “vocalizing”, to put it mildly, and recall reminding myself to keep my voice deep rather than high. The rest of the head came out quickly. All of that happened within the span of one ctx.
By this point, the midwife had told Isaac to hang up and phone 911. He was talking with them as the head emerged. I let go of the head and leaned on the tub to rest before the next ctx came. It came almost immediately and the rest of the body was delivered into my MIL’s waiting hands. I don’t recall pushing at all with either of the ctx. It felt like my body and gravity did all of the work. She laid him on the towel and I rested on the edge of the tub, exhausted and relieved and shocked. It was, as best as we can estimate, 11:37pm.
After catching my breath, I looked back and the first thing I saw was that our little baby was most definitely a boy! I brought him up between my legs and just held him. Isaac came in to see and to let me know the paramedics were on the way. I replied less than positively to that, but calmed down when he got the deer-in-the-headlights look and said the midwife had told him to, poor guy. (In hindsight, of course, it was the obvious and wise thing to do, but at the time all I could think was that we were fine and I didn’t want paramedics there.) We admired our new son together. My MIL came in next. I thanked her over and over, and she thanked God over and over. Now that he was here and everything seemed fine, there was such a sense of awe and relief and shock.
The paramedics arrived at this point, finding me still on my knees facing the tub with my back to the door, clutching the baby and trying to get my mind around the fact that I had just given birth. The huge paramedic maneuvered his way into our small bathroom and started talking to me. This man deserves a medal for having to deal with me, as I wasn’t at my most cooperative at this point. He wanted me to lay down, which sounded incredibly unappealing to me, as the bathroom floor was cold and hard and covered in blood and water from the birth. I didn’t want to lay down, I was perfectly comfortable where I was. He wanted the baby lower than the placenta, which seemed impossible to me at the time, since I didn’t want to just lay the baby on the floor. I’m not sure what all happened in the couple minutes after he arrived. I know I was repeatedly covered with a towel, which kept falling off, and he kept trying to move me when I didn’t want to be moved. At one point he stepped out to get something and I quietly delivered the placenta, still on my knees and still holding the baby. I told him the placenta was here and I was ready for him now.
He came in and started trying to move me again, but I was tangled in the cord and didn’t know where exactly he wanted me in the first place. Finally I told him to stop. I asked him to please just tell me what he wanted me to do and I would do it, just stop trying to move me and stop trying to take the baby. He said he wanted me to sit back. This was still really unappealing to me, but I felt bad for being so difficult when he was just trying to do his job so I figured I should make an effort to be more cooperative. I got myself untangled and allowed him to help me sit back on the floor. He clamped and cut the cord. The poor guy, his hands were shaking so hard as he clamped and cut. He checked to make sure the placenta was whole (it was) and placed it in a plastic bag. He tried again to take the baby, but I told him no, I wanted my husband to take him. (I feel mean about that now, but at the time I just wanted Isaac to be the first one besides me to hold the baby.) I called Isaac and handed him his son.
I was shaking a lot, as expected, and the paramedic had them bring me warm towels from the dryer. He told me then that I needed to get up so they could get me to the hospital. I said I didn’t want or need to go, and the second paramedic stepped in to reassure me that there was no rush and maybe I could go lie down on my bed for a few minutes so they could check everything out. I didn’t know whether to believe him or whether he was just trying to get me to stand up. Isaac tells me that no, the second paramedic really was okay with not transferring, since we had been planning a homebirth anyway, while the first paramedic was quite adamant that I be transferred. I asked where my midwife was and Isaac assured me she was on the way.
I did allow them to help me stand up. The second paramedic wanted me to move to the bed, but I was covered in blood and really didn’t want to spread that all around. The first paramedic kept offering me a pad, which felt to me a bit like offering a bandage to close up a surgery site. There was a lot more blood than that little thing was going to take care of. I asked the second paramedic if I could shower first. I laugh about the ridiculousness of that request now, but at the time it seemed entirely logical – I was a mess and I wanted to rinse off before moving to my nice clean bedroom. He said no, I couldn’t have a shower, so I handed him the bag of blue chux pads I’d had ready for the homebirth. He put a couple of them on the bed while I grabbed a towel and wiped myself off as best I could, then finally accepted the continually offered pad from the first paramedic. We moved to the bed and I was handed the baby and encouraged to continue to try to latch him (he had been trying to latch in the bathroom but hadn’t quite managed it yet). He latched on right away this time. The paramedic took my blood pressure and asked me some questions.
My midwife arrived around this point and started checking us over. She talked to the paramedics and they agreed to leave me in her care, since we had been planning a homebirth anyway. I thanked them repeatedly, appreciating both their care and their patience with me. Isaac went with them to sign all the release forms on our behalf. It felt very important to me at the time to convince everyone that the unassisted birth truly had been unexpected. The paramedics, the midwife, MIL – even my husband carefully asked later that evening if I had known the baby was about to be born when I’d gone into the washroom. But no, I hadn’t the slightest idea that after only a handful of hard ctx that had started less than an hour ago, my water would break and the baby would be completely delivered two ctx later.
I didn’t see them, but four firemen followed my midwife in the door. Our older boy was pretty much over the moon at this point. He had woken up sometime when all the “the baby is coming!!!” yelling and chaos started. MIL and Isaac had taken turns watching him while the other helped me. He was pretty much occupied, though, when first the ambulance came, then the firetruck (“Are they going to climb up in the ladder??”), and then four firemen in uniform. He was wearing his firetruck pajamas that night. One of the firemen pointed that out to him; I recall hearing that, but I didn’t realize at the time that there were four firemen crowded in our little entrance way, talking with my very excited little boy. He kept telling them, “my name is Jay, and there is a firetruck outside!” They all left as soon as it was determined that I would not be transferred. They had come because we have a very steep set of stairs, sharp turn, and narrow walkway, none of which would have made a transfer easy.
Once the firemen and paramedics left, everything settled down. We made our phone calls to family to share the news. The baby and I were both doing well. The baby’s temperature was a bit low but warmed up quickly after some skin-to-skin contact. He weighed 8.5 lbs. I hadn’t torn at all. I was finally able to have that shower I’d asked for earlier, which felt wonderful. The midwife was impressed with the “efficiency” of my body – the fast delivery, the lack of tearing, the quick delivery of the placenta, and the way my uterus had clamped right up and the bleeding had already slowed down.
The midwife left after two hours. I couldn’t believe it had already been that long. We were all too keyed up to sleep. The new big brother laid down on our floor and played with cars, MIL went to bed but didn’t sleep at all, and Isaac and I spent some time on our computers and watched a bit of a show before turning out the lights sometime around 4am. Our new little boy dozed on my lap, nursing off and on and being thoroughly admired and marveled over.
I was surprised at how little pain I felt afterwards. My stomach has been uncomfortable any time I stand up since then, but otherwise I’ve been feeling great. I had been so sore after our first son's birth and I expected to feel the same way this time – but then again, nothing at all has been the same this time, not the pregnancy, not the labour, and most definitely not the delivery!
It took us several hours and many discussions, but we finally settled on a name we both liked. It was originally a name we had been considering as the middle name, but my husband so rarely has definite opinions on something that I agreed to let it be his first name since he liked it so much. His middle name is both my dad and my granddad’s middle name. His second middle name is a masculine form of my MIL’s name, as she was the one who caught him when he was born and it felt right to honour that as part of his name. Coincidentally, it is also a form of my FIL’s middle name.
We are so grateful that everything turned out well with this unexpected unassisted delivery. Although we had been planning a homebirth, we very much intended to have our midwife be there for it. Thinking back on the “what if’s”, many thanks have been given to God for the safe arrival of our son. At the same time, it has been so affirming to us to have witnessed my body and instinct take over and achieve what is today typically viewed as a medical procedure. Everything happened as it should and with no need for any sort of intervention or active management. Even so, I appreciate that medical management is available when needed and will always be grateful that it wasn’t necessary for us and that our son is here and healthy and safe.
Everything is going wonderfully so far. He is a very calm little boy, easily settled and very mellow. He is perfect, absolutely beautiful. Nursing is going well, no problems at all. Jay adores him and loves to hold him, stroke him, look at him and cuddle next to him. It is amazing how seamlessly this little boy has become a part of our family. We feel so blessed right now.
Saturday, 19 December 2009
Welcome to the world, Little One
The baby is here! A beautiful healthy little boy, yet to be named. :)
Soooo...we had a completely unexpected unassisted childbirth! My amazing MIL caught the baby. I had a few hard contractions and went to the bathroom, where my water broke. The baby crowned and was born within a few minutes! A more detailed birth story is to come, but we're all very good and just settling in for the night. :)
Soooo...we had a completely unexpected unassisted childbirth! My amazing MIL caught the baby. I had a few hard contractions and went to the bathroom, where my water broke. The baby crowned and was born within a few minutes! A more detailed birth story is to come, but we're all very good and just settling in for the night. :)
Thursday, 17 December 2009
Reminders for today
Babies are born on their birth days, not their due dates.
They all come out eventually.
This too shall pass.
They all come out eventually.
This too shall pass.
Friday, 11 December 2009
When the snow comes
I told my son, months ago, that the baby would come when there was snow on the ground.
Today we had our first snowfall - nothing more than a light dusting, but snow nonetheless.
I guess it's time for this baby to come.
Tomorrow is my "official" due date. My MIL arrives on Sunday evening - less than 48 hours to go! Once she's here, I can finally relax and start anticipating labour rather than willing it to hold off just a little while longer. So far, so good. I can feel my body starting to prepare for labour, but I feel like it will still be a few days before anything significant starts to happen. My current bet is Tuesday - but, of course, the baby will come when he or she is ready. They all come out eventually!
The boy and I had a surprisingly fun afternoon walking around the neighbourhood and nearby greenspace, admiring the snow and playing in the leaves. I admit I've kept us too cooped up in recent weeks, my energy waning in the late weeks of pregnancy. I always forget how enjoyable and even necessary it is for us to get outside. We both needed it badly. The boy blew off a great deal of pent up energy while I enjoyed the fresh air and the renewed energy from just getting up and walking outside for a while. When we got home, we thawed out under the blankets with mugs of hot cocoa and a movie. It was nice.
We have some hopeful news regarding our search for a new place to live. After three weeks of looking at rentals that were, to be concise, unacceptable, dotted with the occasional "maybe", we finally found a home that is exactly what we were hoping for - more, even. We submitted our rental application to the landlord today and are now praying and waiting for his decision.
This was particularly welcome after a crushing evening earlier this week. After a string of especially bad viewings, we finally found one that was acceptable. Feeling both desperate and relieved, we were nearly ready to take it on the spot - until the landlord adamently refused to allow our two cats. It felt like such a blow at the time. In hindsight, I am glad we were unable to take it. It certainly would have been acceptable, but it was nowhere near as perfect as the place we have found now. I should have known there was a plan in all this.
The place we have applied for couldn't be more ideal. The landlord was very polite and professional (a rarity, sadly enough). The home is beautiful and very well maintained, and the layout is nice as well. The location is perfect, only two blocks over from where we currently live. We live in a very nice quiet neighbourhood right next to a beautiful greenspace, large playground, library, and swimming pool. The rent is well within our price range and much lower than we are paying right now. The landlord offers a cash incentive after one year in order to encourage long term tenants, which is exactly what we are looking for, a place where we can stay for the duration of our time here. The landlord lives right upstairs. Pets are allowed. It's a nice size and has plenty of storage space. It has private laundry, a big one for me since I don't much like the idea of shared laundry when I have cloth diapers to wash on top of our regular laundry. And, as a very exciting plus, it doesn't have white walls!
I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much. If he turns us down, we have found another place that we would accept if it's still available. It's not near as ideal, but it's very nice and we would be happy there, I think.
Although our current lease does allow us to stay until April, our landlords have said they will let us out earlier - which is not surprising, as they would like to move back upstairs themselves (they had planned to move into the suite downstairs in the meantime, as the lease for those tenants was up at the end of December anyway). It was frustrating news, as they knew we wanted something long term and they assured us before we signed the lease that they wanted the same thing. Now we'll be moving into our fourth house this year. At first we were just looking casually, but thinking about it further, we realized that, sadly enough, this was the most convenient time for us to move. My husband is off school for Christmas break, my in-laws are here and happy to help, and it wouldn't be any easier to move with a four month old than it would to move with a newborn. It'll be harder for me, physically, but I've been assured that I'm not to do much at all. If we waited until later in the new year, we'd be moving by ourselves, with a more alert and active baby, while my husband was in school with no breaks and exams approaching.
More than anything, though, we both found it difficult to live here with the knowledge that we had to move hanging over our heads for weeks and months on end. My motivation to keep a clean house plummeted immediately. It was hard to pass up "acceptable" houses in hopes of something better, but at the same time we didn't want to settle for something when we didn't have to move immediately. We couldn't help but keep an eye out for potential rentals, which was time consuming and distracting. It just felt better overall to decide we'd leave at the end of December and start looking for rentals accordingly. Do it, get it over with, and be able to go back to our normal lives.
But wow, did we ever see some bad places. Many of them needed a good scrub and a fresh coat of paint. One of them was missing a lid on the toilet. One landlord demanded to know why we didn't want to rent his place when we told him we weren't interested (oh, where to begin). Most of the houses had the laundry in very strange places - one had the laundry in the bedroom, another in the dining area, many had them outside, and one particularly bad one had the washer in the bathroom and the dryer in the kitchen. The majority had very odd layouts, clearly designed merely to earn extra income for the landlord, like having to walk through a bedroom to get between the kitchen and the rest of the house, having no living room at all, or having no doors on the bedrooms and ensuite bathroom. It was such a relief to see this place and find that it looked like a nice, normal house.
Now hopefully everything will fall into place with it. In the meantime, I have other pressing matters to attend to - like a baby sweater to finish knitting. It was put aside while I whipped up some washcloths to include with thank you gifts for the midwives. Time to finish off that sleeve and get it washed and blocked before its tiny owner arrives. Any day now...
Today we had our first snowfall - nothing more than a light dusting, but snow nonetheless.
I guess it's time for this baby to come.
Tomorrow is my "official" due date. My MIL arrives on Sunday evening - less than 48 hours to go! Once she's here, I can finally relax and start anticipating labour rather than willing it to hold off just a little while longer. So far, so good. I can feel my body starting to prepare for labour, but I feel like it will still be a few days before anything significant starts to happen. My current bet is Tuesday - but, of course, the baby will come when he or she is ready. They all come out eventually!
The boy and I had a surprisingly fun afternoon walking around the neighbourhood and nearby greenspace, admiring the snow and playing in the leaves. I admit I've kept us too cooped up in recent weeks, my energy waning in the late weeks of pregnancy. I always forget how enjoyable and even necessary it is for us to get outside. We both needed it badly. The boy blew off a great deal of pent up energy while I enjoyed the fresh air and the renewed energy from just getting up and walking outside for a while. When we got home, we thawed out under the blankets with mugs of hot cocoa and a movie. It was nice.
We have some hopeful news regarding our search for a new place to live. After three weeks of looking at rentals that were, to be concise, unacceptable, dotted with the occasional "maybe", we finally found a home that is exactly what we were hoping for - more, even. We submitted our rental application to the landlord today and are now praying and waiting for his decision.
This was particularly welcome after a crushing evening earlier this week. After a string of especially bad viewings, we finally found one that was acceptable. Feeling both desperate and relieved, we were nearly ready to take it on the spot - until the landlord adamently refused to allow our two cats. It felt like such a blow at the time. In hindsight, I am glad we were unable to take it. It certainly would have been acceptable, but it was nowhere near as perfect as the place we have found now. I should have known there was a plan in all this.
The place we have applied for couldn't be more ideal. The landlord was very polite and professional (a rarity, sadly enough). The home is beautiful and very well maintained, and the layout is nice as well. The location is perfect, only two blocks over from where we currently live. We live in a very nice quiet neighbourhood right next to a beautiful greenspace, large playground, library, and swimming pool. The rent is well within our price range and much lower than we are paying right now. The landlord offers a cash incentive after one year in order to encourage long term tenants, which is exactly what we are looking for, a place where we can stay for the duration of our time here. The landlord lives right upstairs. Pets are allowed. It's a nice size and has plenty of storage space. It has private laundry, a big one for me since I don't much like the idea of shared laundry when I have cloth diapers to wash on top of our regular laundry. And, as a very exciting plus, it doesn't have white walls!
I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much. If he turns us down, we have found another place that we would accept if it's still available. It's not near as ideal, but it's very nice and we would be happy there, I think.
Although our current lease does allow us to stay until April, our landlords have said they will let us out earlier - which is not surprising, as they would like to move back upstairs themselves (they had planned to move into the suite downstairs in the meantime, as the lease for those tenants was up at the end of December anyway). It was frustrating news, as they knew we wanted something long term and they assured us before we signed the lease that they wanted the same thing. Now we'll be moving into our fourth house this year. At first we were just looking casually, but thinking about it further, we realized that, sadly enough, this was the most convenient time for us to move. My husband is off school for Christmas break, my in-laws are here and happy to help, and it wouldn't be any easier to move with a four month old than it would to move with a newborn. It'll be harder for me, physically, but I've been assured that I'm not to do much at all. If we waited until later in the new year, we'd be moving by ourselves, with a more alert and active baby, while my husband was in school with no breaks and exams approaching.
More than anything, though, we both found it difficult to live here with the knowledge that we had to move hanging over our heads for weeks and months on end. My motivation to keep a clean house plummeted immediately. It was hard to pass up "acceptable" houses in hopes of something better, but at the same time we didn't want to settle for something when we didn't have to move immediately. We couldn't help but keep an eye out for potential rentals, which was time consuming and distracting. It just felt better overall to decide we'd leave at the end of December and start looking for rentals accordingly. Do it, get it over with, and be able to go back to our normal lives.
But wow, did we ever see some bad places. Many of them needed a good scrub and a fresh coat of paint. One of them was missing a lid on the toilet. One landlord demanded to know why we didn't want to rent his place when we told him we weren't interested (oh, where to begin). Most of the houses had the laundry in very strange places - one had the laundry in the bedroom, another in the dining area, many had them outside, and one particularly bad one had the washer in the bathroom and the dryer in the kitchen. The majority had very odd layouts, clearly designed merely to earn extra income for the landlord, like having to walk through a bedroom to get between the kitchen and the rest of the house, having no living room at all, or having no doors on the bedrooms and ensuite bathroom. It was such a relief to see this place and find that it looked like a nice, normal house.
Now hopefully everything will fall into place with it. In the meantime, I have other pressing matters to attend to - like a baby sweater to finish knitting. It was put aside while I whipped up some washcloths to include with thank you gifts for the midwives. Time to finish off that sleeve and get it washed and blocked before its tiny owner arrives. Any day now...
Tuesday, 24 November 2009
At least some things are consistent
I'm amazed at how different this pregnancy is from my first one. With my son, I was so sick and exhausted that I could barely function for the entire first trimester. If the shower was too warm, I got sick. If there was meat anywhere in sight, I got sick (my poor, poor meat-loving husband). If I could smell pretty much anything, I got sick. Basically, if I had to move, I got sick. I lived off of cucumbers and chocolate soy milk for a couple weeks because it was all I could stomach. Getting up and ready every morning took forever because I had to lay down every minute or two. I was so tired that I actually fell asleep at work while talking face-to-face with a client (mortifying much??). I had very specific food cravings (when I was able to eat) and even more food aversions. It pretty much sucked, in short.
The second trimester was great, and my husband especially appreciated the fact that I was suddenly very very interested in fulfilling my "wifely duties". So frequently, in fact, that he had to put a limit on it. Heh.
The third trimester was full of aching joints, waking up in the middle of the night unable to move, bad sciatic pain, endless heartburn, an insane amount of swelling, and a constant foot sticking itself up as high as it could in my ribs.
This time around, though, hardly anything is the same. I was quite tired and had some mild morning sickness off and on through the first trimester, but nothing at all like last time. The second trimester failed to bring the increase libido that my husband was so looking forward to. The third trimester was far less painful than last time. It's only been within the past couple of weeks, really, that I've got to the achy and uncomfortable point, but no swelling at all (my rings even still fit perfectly fine!), no foot in my ribs, and far less joint and sciatic pain.
The only things the same, other than an uncomplicated pregnancy? I was anemic, I'm GBS+, and the baby is posterior. Drats to all three of them. The first meant expensive iron supplements (Floradix), the second meant abx during labour (which I would have rather avoided), and the third meant ohmygoodness the awful awful back labour. I'm hoping to get this baby turned around before labour in order to avoid that again. Wish me luck. At least my floors will be spotless after all the scrubbing on my hands and knees, trying to turn the baby.
I'm very curious to see now whether this baby is a girl. The differences between the two pregnancies almost make me think it might be - but then again, lots of people have two children of the same gender and yet had very different pregnancies with each. Maybe it means nothing other than I'm pretty lucky this time around.
And hey, that's enough for me.
The second trimester was great, and my husband especially appreciated the fact that I was suddenly very very interested in fulfilling my "wifely duties". So frequently, in fact, that he had to put a limit on it. Heh.
The third trimester was full of aching joints, waking up in the middle of the night unable to move, bad sciatic pain, endless heartburn, an insane amount of swelling, and a constant foot sticking itself up as high as it could in my ribs.
This time around, though, hardly anything is the same. I was quite tired and had some mild morning sickness off and on through the first trimester, but nothing at all like last time. The second trimester failed to bring the increase libido that my husband was so looking forward to. The third trimester was far less painful than last time. It's only been within the past couple of weeks, really, that I've got to the achy and uncomfortable point, but no swelling at all (my rings even still fit perfectly fine!), no foot in my ribs, and far less joint and sciatic pain.
The only things the same, other than an uncomplicated pregnancy? I was anemic, I'm GBS+, and the baby is posterior. Drats to all three of them. The first meant expensive iron supplements (Floradix), the second meant abx during labour (which I would have rather avoided), and the third meant ohmygoodness the awful awful back labour. I'm hoping to get this baby turned around before labour in order to avoid that again. Wish me luck. At least my floors will be spotless after all the scrubbing on my hands and knees, trying to turn the baby.
I'm very curious to see now whether this baby is a girl. The differences between the two pregnancies almost make me think it might be - but then again, lots of people have two children of the same gender and yet had very different pregnancies with each. Maybe it means nothing other than I'm pretty lucky this time around.
And hey, that's enough for me.
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
And the countdown begins...
31 days to go!
(Give or take, of course. I seem to have misplaced my crystal ball.)
I'm feeling mostly prepared at this point. After sorting through the newborn clothes we had and realizing that having a spring baby and a winter baby wasn't exactly compatible as far as outfits go, I bought a couple cozy fleece one piece outfits, a snuggly fleece sleeper, and a nice soft cotton sleeper (which was more of a splurge than a need, since we do have several long sleeved sleepers). I'm definitely not one to dress up an infant in all those finicky little baby outfits - just something warm, soft, and comfortable. I've got a couple wool diaper covers knitted and some longies planned, possibly a nice soft kimono if I have time. Everything still needs to be washed, but I think I'll wait another week or two.
I've started building up my supply of frozen foods. I've got lots of turkey soup, chicken stock, and spaghetti sauce. I have a bag of unbaked dinner rolls, and today I added a couple batches of unbaked chocolate chip cookies. I plan to add a few loaves' worth of bread dough and hopefully a chicken pot pie or two by the weekend.
Next week I'll purchase the supplies we need for the homebirth. I'm still going back and forth on whether or not to buy all of the waterbirth supplies as well, or just go with a few extra towels and our tub. We attended a waterbirth info night a couple evenings ago, which was informative and helpful, but I can't decide whether it's worth the extra cost and effort to do the whole shebang when I'm not dead-set on birthing in the water. I guess I'll have to treat myself to a nice warm bath this weekend to decide once and for all whether or not our tub will be sufficient.
I am looking forward to being finished with the weekly jabs my midwife has me doing. Because both my iron and platelets are low, I've had to have my blood tested regularly to monitor for changes. The boy always sits on my knee and watches the process intently (while I look away and close my eyes and try not to groan) - and is usually rewarded with some stickers by the sweet ladies at the lab we go to. The receptionist got a good laugh a couple weeks ago when he ran ahead of me into the waiting room and yelled, "that was fun!" Yeah, maybe for you, kiddo.
As far as being mentally prepared...I have no idea. I'm impatient to meet this child and get to know him or her. I definitely get all mushy over the thought of having a tiny little newborn in my arms again. I excited to see how the boy relates to his new brother or sister and to watch their relationship grow. I'm nervous over the idea of having two children. I'm worried about how the baby will affect my relationship with the boy and how the boy will affect my feelings towards the baby. And some days, I can't help but thinking (in an amused sense) my goodness...I just got past the baby stage, and now I'll be starting all over again.
Mostly, though, there is simply this overriding sense of calm curiosity. What will the baby be like? In what ways will our lives change? How will I feel? What sort of experiences will the upcoming months bring? I can't plan for it all, so I'm left simply wondering - in almost a detached, watching-someone-else's-life sort of way - what my reactions will be. It should be interesting.
31 more days!
(Give or take, of course. I seem to have misplaced my crystal ball.)
I'm feeling mostly prepared at this point. After sorting through the newborn clothes we had and realizing that having a spring baby and a winter baby wasn't exactly compatible as far as outfits go, I bought a couple cozy fleece one piece outfits, a snuggly fleece sleeper, and a nice soft cotton sleeper (which was more of a splurge than a need, since we do have several long sleeved sleepers). I'm definitely not one to dress up an infant in all those finicky little baby outfits - just something warm, soft, and comfortable. I've got a couple wool diaper covers knitted and some longies planned, possibly a nice soft kimono if I have time. Everything still needs to be washed, but I think I'll wait another week or two.
I've started building up my supply of frozen foods. I've got lots of turkey soup, chicken stock, and spaghetti sauce. I have a bag of unbaked dinner rolls, and today I added a couple batches of unbaked chocolate chip cookies. I plan to add a few loaves' worth of bread dough and hopefully a chicken pot pie or two by the weekend.
Next week I'll purchase the supplies we need for the homebirth. I'm still going back and forth on whether or not to buy all of the waterbirth supplies as well, or just go with a few extra towels and our tub. We attended a waterbirth info night a couple evenings ago, which was informative and helpful, but I can't decide whether it's worth the extra cost and effort to do the whole shebang when I'm not dead-set on birthing in the water. I guess I'll have to treat myself to a nice warm bath this weekend to decide once and for all whether or not our tub will be sufficient.
I am looking forward to being finished with the weekly jabs my midwife has me doing. Because both my iron and platelets are low, I've had to have my blood tested regularly to monitor for changes. The boy always sits on my knee and watches the process intently (while I look away and close my eyes and try not to groan) - and is usually rewarded with some stickers by the sweet ladies at the lab we go to. The receptionist got a good laugh a couple weeks ago when he ran ahead of me into the waiting room and yelled, "that was fun!" Yeah, maybe for you, kiddo.
As far as being mentally prepared...I have no idea. I'm impatient to meet this child and get to know him or her. I definitely get all mushy over the thought of having a tiny little newborn in my arms again. I excited to see how the boy relates to his new brother or sister and to watch their relationship grow. I'm nervous over the idea of having two children. I'm worried about how the baby will affect my relationship with the boy and how the boy will affect my feelings towards the baby. And some days, I can't help but thinking (in an amused sense) my goodness...I just got past the baby stage, and now I'll be starting all over again.
Mostly, though, there is simply this overriding sense of calm curiosity. What will the baby be like? In what ways will our lives change? How will I feel? What sort of experiences will the upcoming months bring? I can't plan for it all, so I'm left simply wondering - in almost a detached, watching-someone-else's-life sort of way - what my reactions will be. It should be interesting.
31 more days!
Monday, 6 July 2009
Why homebirth
It was recently suggested on a (mainstream) pregnancy forum that those who birth with a midwife at home or in a birthing center do it only for the “experience”, and that the safest place to give birth is in a hospital “just in case” anything goes wrong. When I replied that midwife-attended homebirths were statistically safer than OB-attended hospital births, I was asked why that was. So, in my typical concise fashion (ha!), I replied.
An obstetrician's training is in the pathology of pregnancy - finding and treating the things that go wrong with pregnancy. A midwife's training is in normal birth. The difference in training focus typically means a difference in the way the two caregivers approach birth.
OBs who provide maternity care for healthy women often apply unnecessary interventions to those healthy women, rather than solely to the complicated pregnancies for which said interventions would be appropriate and necessary. This is the case both during routine prenatal care and during the labour and delivery itself. These interventions often lead to complications that otherwise would not have arisen.
Midwives provide a far more holistic maternity care, viewing pregnancy and birth as a normal and healthy part of life rather than something to be micromanaged and intervened with. Intervention happens only when medically necessary, and midwives are trained to recognize complications which require transfer of care to an OB.
Family doctors typically have lower rates of obstetrical intervention than OBs do. (A family doctor was my caregiver of choice for my first pregnancy. A midwife is my preference this time, with temporary care being given by a family doctor as we are currently in between cities for the summer.)
North America is unique in its common use of obstetricians to provide prenatal care for routine low-risk pregnancies and deliveries. Most countries use OBs only for high-risk cases, with the bulk of prenatal care provided by midwives. These countries, incidentally, have lower maternal and newborn death rates.
Aside from the use of OBs in normal, healthy, low-risk pregnancies, the hospital environment itself is not conducive to the safest birth experience for the typical pregnancy. Fortunately, steps are being made to improve that, with some hospitals far ahead of others, but the typical hospital birth still involves being denied food and drink, having continuous fetal monitoring which requires being in bed during the labour and delivery, and giving birth lying down on your back with a doctor directing your pushing and breathing (the most inefficient way to give birth, but the most convenient way for the doctor). Episiotomies, forceps deliveries, and vacuum-extractor deliveries are all performed with little restraint. Pain relief is encouraged even though it commonly leads to problems with the delivery (inefficient pushing, fetal distress, etc) and thus in turn leads to a disappointingly high number of unnecessary c-sections. Time limits placed on the length of labour, coupled with the pressure of doctor hours, result in drugs frequently given to speed up labour, which again leads to more unnecessary c-sections. Any unnecessary surgery introduces risks that would otherwise not be present.
None of this is to say anything of the emotional state of a woman labouring in a hospital versus labouring at home. Most often, the woman feels that she and her labour are under the control of her doctor, becoming a passive participant rather than empowered to direct her own labour. The L&D room is often full of various nurses, residents, and doctors, any of whom may interrupt the labouring woman at any time. She labours under the constant threat of interventions and, ultimately, “failure to progress” (AKA, in many cases, your doctor wants to go home). None of this promotes the sense of comfort, security and focus that enables a woman to labour efficiently. Unfortunately, the connection between a woman’s state of mind and the ability of her body to labour is often ignored in the hospital setting.
Finally, there is concern about the safety of many prenatal tests and postnatal procedures performed, both for the mother and the child, as well as the difficulty a woman often has in declining any of those tests or procedures.
Any one individual midwife is not guaranteed to provide holistic maternity care, nor is any one individual OB guaranteed to encourage unnecessary interventions on a normal healthy pregnancy/birth, but the trends are there nonetheless. I am wholly confident in the care that a good midwife can provide, as I am wholly confident in my body to be capable of doing what women have been doing since the very beginning. On the (very low) chance that something does go wrong, I am grateful that hospitals are there to provide care where care is needed - in cases of disease and trauma, not in cases of normal, healthy, life-giving events.
So no, I have not planned a homebirth for the experience, for my own personal satisfaction, or because all the cool pregnant ladies are doing it. I have a planned a homebirth because for my low-risk pregnancy, a homebirth is the safest option.
An obstetrician's training is in the pathology of pregnancy - finding and treating the things that go wrong with pregnancy. A midwife's training is in normal birth. The difference in training focus typically means a difference in the way the two caregivers approach birth.
OBs who provide maternity care for healthy women often apply unnecessary interventions to those healthy women, rather than solely to the complicated pregnancies for which said interventions would be appropriate and necessary. This is the case both during routine prenatal care and during the labour and delivery itself. These interventions often lead to complications that otherwise would not have arisen.
Midwives provide a far more holistic maternity care, viewing pregnancy and birth as a normal and healthy part of life rather than something to be micromanaged and intervened with. Intervention happens only when medically necessary, and midwives are trained to recognize complications which require transfer of care to an OB.
Family doctors typically have lower rates of obstetrical intervention than OBs do. (A family doctor was my caregiver of choice for my first pregnancy. A midwife is my preference this time, with temporary care being given by a family doctor as we are currently in between cities for the summer.)
North America is unique in its common use of obstetricians to provide prenatal care for routine low-risk pregnancies and deliveries. Most countries use OBs only for high-risk cases, with the bulk of prenatal care provided by midwives. These countries, incidentally, have lower maternal and newborn death rates.
Aside from the use of OBs in normal, healthy, low-risk pregnancies, the hospital environment itself is not conducive to the safest birth experience for the typical pregnancy. Fortunately, steps are being made to improve that, with some hospitals far ahead of others, but the typical hospital birth still involves being denied food and drink, having continuous fetal monitoring which requires being in bed during the labour and delivery, and giving birth lying down on your back with a doctor directing your pushing and breathing (the most inefficient way to give birth, but the most convenient way for the doctor). Episiotomies, forceps deliveries, and vacuum-extractor deliveries are all performed with little restraint. Pain relief is encouraged even though it commonly leads to problems with the delivery (inefficient pushing, fetal distress, etc) and thus in turn leads to a disappointingly high number of unnecessary c-sections. Time limits placed on the length of labour, coupled with the pressure of doctor hours, result in drugs frequently given to speed up labour, which again leads to more unnecessary c-sections. Any unnecessary surgery introduces risks that would otherwise not be present.
None of this is to say anything of the emotional state of a woman labouring in a hospital versus labouring at home. Most often, the woman feels that she and her labour are under the control of her doctor, becoming a passive participant rather than empowered to direct her own labour. The L&D room is often full of various nurses, residents, and doctors, any of whom may interrupt the labouring woman at any time. She labours under the constant threat of interventions and, ultimately, “failure to progress” (AKA, in many cases, your doctor wants to go home). None of this promotes the sense of comfort, security and focus that enables a woman to labour efficiently. Unfortunately, the connection between a woman’s state of mind and the ability of her body to labour is often ignored in the hospital setting.
Finally, there is concern about the safety of many prenatal tests and postnatal procedures performed, both for the mother and the child, as well as the difficulty a woman often has in declining any of those tests or procedures.
Any one individual midwife is not guaranteed to provide holistic maternity care, nor is any one individual OB guaranteed to encourage unnecessary interventions on a normal healthy pregnancy/birth, but the trends are there nonetheless. I am wholly confident in the care that a good midwife can provide, as I am wholly confident in my body to be capable of doing what women have been doing since the very beginning. On the (very low) chance that something does go wrong, I am grateful that hospitals are there to provide care where care is needed - in cases of disease and trauma, not in cases of normal, healthy, life-giving events.
So no, I have not planned a homebirth for the experience, for my own personal satisfaction, or because all the cool pregnant ladies are doing it. I have a planned a homebirth because for my low-risk pregnancy, a homebirth is the safest option.
Friday, 3 July 2009
Oh Baby
17 weeks tomorrow – approaching the halfway mark!
I’m at that point where I don’t really “feel” pregnant. I’m no longer sick and exhausted, but the tiny little movements I’ve been feeling are still small enough to be debatable (was that Baby? maybe?). I do have a bit of a tummy already, much different from last time when even at 6 months I still didn’t look pregnant! I've gained a little over 4 lbs so far. At this point, Baby should be about 5 inches long – that sounds so big to me. Wow.
I’m looking forward to my first ultrasound in less than two weeks. (Unfortunately, my husband will be out of town looking at potential houses to rent for when we move in the fall, so he won’t be there this time. My sister will be joining the boy and me instead.) No, we will not be finding out the gender. We didn’t last time and won’t next time either. I just can’t give up that wonderful moment, after all the hard work of labour and delivery, when someone shouts out “it’s a ___!” That moment is too perfect for words. I was never one who liked to peek at my Christmas presents anyway.
Fortunately, I don’t have a nursery to worry about (pink or blue? green or yellow?), as Baby will sleep with us for at least the first 6 months, but likely longer. We don’t need a new carseat for Baby, who will get the boy’s Britax Roundabout while he gets a bigger model. We don’t need a fancy travel system, as we look forward instead to the “second nine months” (nine months in the womb, nine months outside the womb) with baby snuggled up in a sling or wrap next to Mom or Dad rather than strapped into a baby bucket to be lugged or rolled everywhere. Some cozy gender-neutral zipper sleepers will get us through those first days, with some gender-specific ones added in eventually if this bambino turns out to be a little girl. No, I may be an obsessive type A planner, but I don’t need to know the gender to be wholly prepared for this tiny one.
What we are beginning to prepare for, though, is the birth. I have found a midwife and have my first appt (by phone) next week. My childhood family doctor is providing temporary prenatal care in the interim. What a difference between his five minute whirlwind appointments and the personal care provided by a midwife! I do admit, though, that I would have had a much harder time choosing a care provider if we were still in Ottawa, as we loved our family doctor there. She was wonderful through my last pregnancy, but unfortunately was not the team doctor on call the night I went into labour. I think it would be that – as well as hospital births in general (but that’s another entry altogether) – that would have convinced me to switch to a midwife for my maternity care this time around. Still, moving made the decision easy. We are looking forward to birthing at home under my midwife’s care.
We have also been preparing the little guy for his upcoming role of big brother. He likes to sit on my knee and talk about the baby growing in Mommy’s tummy (he seems particularly focused on the baby’s arms – “Baby grow big arms!!”). We talk about what he can do with the baby, and most of the suggestions have come right from him – sing to the baby, read stories to the baby, show baby “gentle”, give baby hugs and kisses, and, of course, play cars with the baby (okay, so some things will need to be clarified when the tiny little bundle of joy is actually here – but at least his heart is in the right place). We talk often about who we love. “Who does Jacob love?” “Opa!” “Who else?” “Daddy!” And so on and so forth. Then, “who does Mommy love?” “Jacob!” “Yes, Mommy loves Jacob very much. And Mommy loves Daddy.” “Daddy!” “And Mommy loves Baby too.” “Love Baby!” We talk about how Baby will drink Mommy’s milk too, something he brings up quite often now (“Share Mommy milk?” “Yes, honey, you will need to share Mommy milk with the baby.”) And on and on, in many different contexts, making this unborn child very much a part of our family and something for him to be excited about.
On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve yet managed to wrap my head around the idea that in just a few short months, we will have two little ones to love and raise. Who knows, maybe it won’t really be driven home until I hear those first cries, but it did become a bit more real a couple weeks ago. It was a very strange thing. I had just gotten the boy to sleep and was walking out of his room when he let out a tiny little cry in his sleep. Immediately my breasts tingled in that familiar let-down feeling – familiar and yet no longer familiar, it having been so long since they’d actually let down that way. It was that very strange sensation that made me take in a deep breath, suddenly vividly aware that I would have a newborn around the house again. The constant nursing, the sweet milky breath, the sleepy baby nestled next to Mom, the perfect tiny lips, that newborn cry – it all came rushing back in that moment. We’re going to have a baby.
Thank you, God.
Speaking of nursing, I had the bittersweet realization earlier this week that it had been a few days since my toddler had nursed – or had even asked to nurse. I wasn’t even certain I still had milk. The following night, wouldn’t it figure, he did ask for milk at bedtime, and I gave it to him. He seemed to be getting milk – but then last night, just to confuse his poor mother, he wanted to nurse again but most definitely was not getting milk this time (and wasn’t upset by the fact). I’ve never been able to hand-express, so I can’t tell that way. It’s just this surreal period of my baby possibly weaning, my milk supply possibly changing, and me feeling partly sad, partly happy, but mostly just accepting of it all. I’m content with where he is right now. He’s entirely nightweaned, he accepts his Daddy’s help when he wakes up at night (and sometimes going to sleep in the first place at bedtime), he nurses no more than once a day, and he himself seems quite fine with the whole thing.
While I choose not to actively wean my toddlers, nursing boundaries are definitely put in place along the way. Babies may not “twiddle”, a distracted baby will be given an opportunity to nurse at a later time when s/he is more focused on eating, a biter will immediately be set on the floor for a few seconds (and possibly be startled by my involuntary gasp or yell), older babies and toddlers must ask politely rather than tug on Mommy’s shirt for milk, and toddlers no longer get to nurse on demand – sometimes Mommy’s busy, and sometimes she just plain doesn’t wanna nurse you, hon. Because of my body’s sensitivity to nursing (extreme delayed return to fertility), I do limit nursing for toddlers slightly more than I perhaps would otherwise – morning, naptime, bedtime, nightwakings (though increasingly discouraged the older they get) and occasionally at one or two other moments during the day, but this is a gradual and gentle process that evolves along with the individual child. We tried, for example, nightweaning at a couple different points with the boy, only to find that he most definitely was not ready. When he was, the process went much smoother and with very little upset.
We’ve also found that a change in circumstances is a good time to change habits – moving to a toddler bed meant nursing for a while and then climbing into bed to sleep, rather than falling asleep while nursing as he used to. Moving to an entirely new house meant no more nursing in Mommy’s room – you can fall asleep in Mommy’s room, or you can have milk and fall asleep in your own room. Pregnant Mommy just can’t quite handle what she used to be able to, so we find options that we can both live with instead. It’s what we’ve always done, and I suppose it’s why I don’t feel as much worry as perhaps I should over the idea of adding another child to our family – we simply adjust the way we do things as they need to be. When something works well for us, we leave it. When circumstances change, we change it. “Flexible consistency”, I suppose I would call it. I know that things will change with a second child. Some of those changes we are already preparing for. Others we can’t do anything about until the baby arrives. The rest we can’t even begin to anticipate, having never experienced raising a toddler and a newborn before, but we can rest calmly in knowing that our lives will adapt to these changes, regardless of how much or how little we worry about the “how’s” and “what if’s” ahead of time.
Anyway! I can see the length of this entry is quite getting away from me. Time to leave some baby talk for another day – and time to get back to analyzing those strange feelings in my belly. Was that a tiny little baby kick??
I’m at that point where I don’t really “feel” pregnant. I’m no longer sick and exhausted, but the tiny little movements I’ve been feeling are still small enough to be debatable (was that Baby? maybe?). I do have a bit of a tummy already, much different from last time when even at 6 months I still didn’t look pregnant! I've gained a little over 4 lbs so far. At this point, Baby should be about 5 inches long – that sounds so big to me. Wow.
I’m looking forward to my first ultrasound in less than two weeks. (Unfortunately, my husband will be out of town looking at potential houses to rent for when we move in the fall, so he won’t be there this time. My sister will be joining the boy and me instead.) No, we will not be finding out the gender. We didn’t last time and won’t next time either. I just can’t give up that wonderful moment, after all the hard work of labour and delivery, when someone shouts out “it’s a ___!” That moment is too perfect for words. I was never one who liked to peek at my Christmas presents anyway.
Fortunately, I don’t have a nursery to worry about (pink or blue? green or yellow?), as Baby will sleep with us for at least the first 6 months, but likely longer. We don’t need a new carseat for Baby, who will get the boy’s Britax Roundabout while he gets a bigger model. We don’t need a fancy travel system, as we look forward instead to the “second nine months” (nine months in the womb, nine months outside the womb) with baby snuggled up in a sling or wrap next to Mom or Dad rather than strapped into a baby bucket to be lugged or rolled everywhere. Some cozy gender-neutral zipper sleepers will get us through those first days, with some gender-specific ones added in eventually if this bambino turns out to be a little girl. No, I may be an obsessive type A planner, but I don’t need to know the gender to be wholly prepared for this tiny one.
What we are beginning to prepare for, though, is the birth. I have found a midwife and have my first appt (by phone) next week. My childhood family doctor is providing temporary prenatal care in the interim. What a difference between his five minute whirlwind appointments and the personal care provided by a midwife! I do admit, though, that I would have had a much harder time choosing a care provider if we were still in Ottawa, as we loved our family doctor there. She was wonderful through my last pregnancy, but unfortunately was not the team doctor on call the night I went into labour. I think it would be that – as well as hospital births in general (but that’s another entry altogether) – that would have convinced me to switch to a midwife for my maternity care this time around. Still, moving made the decision easy. We are looking forward to birthing at home under my midwife’s care.
We have also been preparing the little guy for his upcoming role of big brother. He likes to sit on my knee and talk about the baby growing in Mommy’s tummy (he seems particularly focused on the baby’s arms – “Baby grow big arms!!”). We talk about what he can do with the baby, and most of the suggestions have come right from him – sing to the baby, read stories to the baby, show baby “gentle”, give baby hugs and kisses, and, of course, play cars with the baby (okay, so some things will need to be clarified when the tiny little bundle of joy is actually here – but at least his heart is in the right place). We talk often about who we love. “Who does Jacob love?” “Opa!” “Who else?” “Daddy!” And so on and so forth. Then, “who does Mommy love?” “Jacob!” “Yes, Mommy loves Jacob very much. And Mommy loves Daddy.” “Daddy!” “And Mommy loves Baby too.” “Love Baby!” We talk about how Baby will drink Mommy’s milk too, something he brings up quite often now (“Share Mommy milk?” “Yes, honey, you will need to share Mommy milk with the baby.”) And on and on, in many different contexts, making this unborn child very much a part of our family and something for him to be excited about.
On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve yet managed to wrap my head around the idea that in just a few short months, we will have two little ones to love and raise. Who knows, maybe it won’t really be driven home until I hear those first cries, but it did become a bit more real a couple weeks ago. It was a very strange thing. I had just gotten the boy to sleep and was walking out of his room when he let out a tiny little cry in his sleep. Immediately my breasts tingled in that familiar let-down feeling – familiar and yet no longer familiar, it having been so long since they’d actually let down that way. It was that very strange sensation that made me take in a deep breath, suddenly vividly aware that I would have a newborn around the house again. The constant nursing, the sweet milky breath, the sleepy baby nestled next to Mom, the perfect tiny lips, that newborn cry – it all came rushing back in that moment. We’re going to have a baby.
Thank you, God.
Speaking of nursing, I had the bittersweet realization earlier this week that it had been a few days since my toddler had nursed – or had even asked to nurse. I wasn’t even certain I still had milk. The following night, wouldn’t it figure, he did ask for milk at bedtime, and I gave it to him. He seemed to be getting milk – but then last night, just to confuse his poor mother, he wanted to nurse again but most definitely was not getting milk this time (and wasn’t upset by the fact). I’ve never been able to hand-express, so I can’t tell that way. It’s just this surreal period of my baby possibly weaning, my milk supply possibly changing, and me feeling partly sad, partly happy, but mostly just accepting of it all. I’m content with where he is right now. He’s entirely nightweaned, he accepts his Daddy’s help when he wakes up at night (and sometimes going to sleep in the first place at bedtime), he nurses no more than once a day, and he himself seems quite fine with the whole thing.
While I choose not to actively wean my toddlers, nursing boundaries are definitely put in place along the way. Babies may not “twiddle”, a distracted baby will be given an opportunity to nurse at a later time when s/he is more focused on eating, a biter will immediately be set on the floor for a few seconds (and possibly be startled by my involuntary gasp or yell), older babies and toddlers must ask politely rather than tug on Mommy’s shirt for milk, and toddlers no longer get to nurse on demand – sometimes Mommy’s busy, and sometimes she just plain doesn’t wanna nurse you, hon. Because of my body’s sensitivity to nursing (extreme delayed return to fertility), I do limit nursing for toddlers slightly more than I perhaps would otherwise – morning, naptime, bedtime, nightwakings (though increasingly discouraged the older they get) and occasionally at one or two other moments during the day, but this is a gradual and gentle process that evolves along with the individual child. We tried, for example, nightweaning at a couple different points with the boy, only to find that he most definitely was not ready. When he was, the process went much smoother and with very little upset.
We’ve also found that a change in circumstances is a good time to change habits – moving to a toddler bed meant nursing for a while and then climbing into bed to sleep, rather than falling asleep while nursing as he used to. Moving to an entirely new house meant no more nursing in Mommy’s room – you can fall asleep in Mommy’s room, or you can have milk and fall asleep in your own room. Pregnant Mommy just can’t quite handle what she used to be able to, so we find options that we can both live with instead. It’s what we’ve always done, and I suppose it’s why I don’t feel as much worry as perhaps I should over the idea of adding another child to our family – we simply adjust the way we do things as they need to be. When something works well for us, we leave it. When circumstances change, we change it. “Flexible consistency”, I suppose I would call it. I know that things will change with a second child. Some of those changes we are already preparing for. Others we can’t do anything about until the baby arrives. The rest we can’t even begin to anticipate, having never experienced raising a toddler and a newborn before, but we can rest calmly in knowing that our lives will adapt to these changes, regardless of how much or how little we worry about the “how’s” and “what if’s” ahead of time.
Anyway! I can see the length of this entry is quite getting away from me. Time to leave some baby talk for another day – and time to get back to analyzing those strange feelings in my belly. Was that a tiny little baby kick??
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