The First Six Weeks

Six weeks ago today, I was in labor. It was snowing, and I refused to believe I would actually have to be out in that nastiness on my way to deliver. And yet... here we are.


Things I have learned over the past six weeks include...


During Delivery

• People will come in and out of your room without announcing their presence
• People will be all up in your va-jay-jay without introducing themselves
• People will continue to ask you questions even though you do not have the presence of mind to attend to them AND to the labor contractions... and you're more likely to attend to the latter

After Birth

• Despite being SO incredibly tired, you might just not be able to sleep for the excitement of meeting this little person you've been waiting to cuddle
• You might not get many visitors... and that's okay
• ...and if it's not okay, if you had your baby at the hospital, there are plenty of staff to be in and out of your room all day and night

Coming Home

• By the third child, it feels like that baby was always there; you just have to reconsider sleeping arrangements
• Your newbie's siblings may fall instantly in love... or they might willfully ignore the fact that the n00b is here
• Your eldest might tell the (now) middle child that she loves the baby more than him
• The (now) middle child might tell you that he wishes the baby would die
• You might cry because of these things

The First Two Weeks

• ...well, they absolutely still suck. Even though baby #3 feels totally like he's always been there, the adjustment to poor sleep and frequent feedings takes a lot out of you
• ...and a lot out of your partner, who is picking up the slack around the house for everything else you can't do now that nearly 100% of your time involves having an infant hanging off your breast or being up to your elbows in mustardy-poop
• You are likely to have less patience with each other, and with your other kids
• You might decide it's best to have daddy sleep elsewhere in the house so he can get a good night's sleep and not be the devil-parent (someone has to be nice, at least)
• You might really miss each other
• Your breasts hurt like a sonofabitch - you realize you forgot that the "natural" breastfeeding isn't exactly, like, naturally easy to do
• You might have experienced engorgement, a lump, and the desperation of trying to keep baby awake long enough during a feeding to squeeze out that painful milk backlog
• Your partner may offer an ice cube to wake up baby, and it becomes a running joke ("Want an ice cube?")

The Second Two Weeks (weeks 3 and 4)

• Ah, adjustment! You are finding your groove
• You discover this growing person also has a little personality
• You understand his language, know his sleepy cry from his hungry cry, and his likes and dislikes
• He likes, for example, to be near you - and has started to coo when you talk to him
• He can see a teeny bit farther and knows which blurry blobs are his parents and siblings
• You may feel adventurous enough to go on outings
• Your breasts are starting to feel semi-normal again... except that they are at least twice the size they used to be and you can't wear many of your "regular" shirts
• Your maternity pants are too big, and your regular pants are too small.... ah, sweatpants will do (preferably with drawstring)

The Third Two Weeks (weeks 5 and 6)

• My word, he smiled at you! The real kind, not the gassy kind
• And thank goodness he smiles and is so cute, or otherwise you'd probably hate him because he's decided to eat and sleep on some crazy new schedule you haven't figured out yet
• And you realize that his love of cuddling with you extends now to only sleeping when you are holding him, and that he wakes when you put him down
• You'd really like to go pee without bringing the baby along
• Or eat lunch without worrying about dropping food on him while he dozes in your lap
• Oh, and you have to go back to work next Monday, which reminds you that you need to pump
• And your partner isn't back in your bed yet because nobody trusts that this baby is going to sleep in his own space without disturbing the whole house
• But at least the (now) middle child has warmed up enough that he kisses baby goodnight
• And you might have figured out that he needs to sleep on your dirty clothes in the crib to have your smell on him
• And despite all of this, you're still sad that the convalescent-getting-to-know-you time is almost over already

So we're on the eve of his 6 weeks birthday. And I am both extremely happy and terribly sad, as patient as a saint and as frustrated as humanly tolerable, alert and exhausted. This is motherhood.

Final Descent

33 Weeks, 3 Days
Honeydew Melon, or Pineapple
Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our final descent into the universe. Please return your tray tables and seat backs to the upright and locked position.


I am, apparently, carrying "low" or the baby has "dropped" according to at least a half dozen friends and family members. Of course, as a short person, it only means that I can't feel my ribs expanding, like, EVERY SINGLE SECOND. The rib pain is just the worst to me. Of course, there's more pain coming from the ever-stretching (and probably not ever returning to normal) ligaments in my lower abdomen.


I've been a bit concerned that this baby hasn't turned himself around to be ready for landing. At my last appointment a couple of weeks ago, he was still head-up. I have had multiple nightmares about having to have a cesarean because he didn't turn around for delivery. I mean, surely there must be some way to convince an unborn to rotate, right? Well, according to Spinning Babies, yes... there are ways. So I will be trying some of the less intense ones, like putting an ice pack on top of my tummy and playing music by my pubic bone. I have my next appointment in a couple of weeks, so I'll see what the midwife says then.


I don't want to negate anyone's birth experience. But I am really wanting to avoid a c-section. In my dreams, the surgeons keep telling me there is no other option and that they will totally sedate me for the surgery. I get furious because not only am I not getting the birth I want, but I am totally taken out of the equation so that I cannot even see my baby enter the world. In fact, I am kind of the last person in the room to know he has arrived because I have to wake up from anesthesia. That means, no kangaroo care, no skin-to-skin, no immediate nursing, no chance to tell my baby that it's okay, I'm here. I cannot stress how much I really, REALLY do not want that to be how my son enters this world. I want him to know me, smell me, and know he is okay. Really, a sedated cesarean takes away literally ALL of the things I want in my birth plan. It makes me sad, and angry, and sad again.


I'm not ready for this baby, clearly, because I have not yet scheduled my tour of labor and delivery. I haven't delivered at this hospital before, and so it might be important to, y'know, find out more about it. Especially their policies, given my fear of surgical intervention. I need to know how long before they're like, "Okay, lady, we've let you labor for a while. Now it's our turn." I have to make the call.

The Packing List

There are several things I wish I knew as a mother-to-be when packing for the trip to the hospital.  I wish I knew the stuff I really needed and the stuff I really didn't need, for example.  So here is a list of things I felt were necessary and unnecessary for the trip to have a baby.

The Stuff You Need

• Lip balm
• Refillable water bottle (i.e., Camelbak)
• Your own pillow from home
• A blackout mask (in case you can't turn off the lights in your hospital room)
• Snacks for your support person (and for you, after baby is born - late night or holiday babies inconveniently show up when the cafeteria is closed)
• Stuff to do (reading materials or a laptop with some movies) - for during labor and/or after baby when there are no visitors - if you are lucky, your hospital will have free wi-fi.
• MATERNITY CLOTHES (you will still appear about 4 months pregnant, more or less, when you discharge from the hospital so don't think about your skinny jeans yet)
• Baby clothes (a couple different sets and a couple different sizes, in case your child is larger or smaller than you anticipated)
• An empty bag to carry home all the free stuff you'll get from the hospital or birthing center (including diapers, books on newborn and infant care, wipes, mommy-care items like the jumbo maternity pads, sitz bath, medications, and maybe more)
• Camera with charger/batteries
• Car seat (most states require it be inspected for safety before you can go home with your baby)

The Stuff You Don't Need

• Nightgown from home (unless you just really want it - but it might get bloody and gross)
• Candles, scented oils, or other stuff you intend to use during labor - you might not even be thinking about it at all when you are actually in labor
• Toiletries (believe it or not, most hospitals and birthing centers have dental hygiene kits they'll give you and the showers have body wash and shampoo on wall-mounted dispensers) - but if you really like your own stuff, bring it
• Video camera (most birthing centers and hospitals do not permit video of birth because consent is required from all people present - including nursing staff - to have them on video, and nobody has time for that during a birth)
• Diapers, 15 receiving blankets, pacifiers, and other baby gear (the hospital supplies you with diapers and wipes, and you really only need one blanket for the trip home, but hats and blankets are available for baby during your stay at the hospital/birthing center)
• A lot of extra stuff (remember, it all must go home with you)

Even though this isn't my first rodeo, I brought way too much stuff I didn't need and way too little of what I did.

Water Born: J's Birth Story

WARNING: Graphic content.

My due date based on LMP was 1 February.  They adjusted it after ultrasound to 3 February.  When these days came and went, I was exceedingly discouraged.  After all, my firstborn showed up at week 39!  Aren't second and later children supposed to come sooner?  Well, our little son J didn't come sooner, but he came faster than his big sister E.

I had been having Braxton-Hicks contractions for a few days, off and on.  With no real regularity and no increasing pain or intensity, I paid very little attention to them.  However, on Monday morning the 7th of February, something was different.  I was determined to encourage these contractions to grow.  We went for walks, ran errands, tried to stay busy.  By three in the afternoon I was starting to get agitated by disappointment.  Was this boy ever going to make an appearance?

I decided that the BH contractions might be getting more regular and, just for kicks, started timing them around 3:30 PM.  They were at first 12 minutes apart, lasting for maybe 45 seconds.  In the span of maybe 45 minutes, they had regulated to 5 minute intervals, lasting a minute each.  I called the L&D unit at about 4:30 to ask verification of when I should come in.  The nurse who answered said, "You still sound a little perky."  This is a classic sign that the nursing staff would be sending me right back home if I showed up right now.  She gave the criteria: 3-4 minutes apart lasting for at least a minute with very little break in between.  And painful (so I would not be "perky").  I told her I'd be there in an hour.  I'm pretty sure she laughed about me with the other nurses after hanging up.

We left for the hospital and arrived about 5:45 PM.  The nurse was surprised to see us.  Another nurse escorted us to a room for screening.  I had 2 contractions while trying to produce a urine sample.  I think I came up with maybe 15 mL.  Wonder what they could do with that?  Finally, finally, about 6:05 PM I had a cervix check, and I was told by the nurse, "You're a 4, and I can stretch it to 5.  100% effaced."  So we were admitted.

I endured yet another contraction while my dear husband searched for a room closer to the birthing tub (unfortunately the room right across the hall from it was occupied).  He found one right around the corner, not too far of a walk.  We then took the "stroll" to get in there.  Hubby got me a fitness ball to labor on because I was having a hard time being comfortable in any position and I knew I did not want to get on the bed.  Laboring on the birthing ball was nice because I could stretch out my legs and shorten the birth canal and rock back and forth.  Meanwhile, hubby massaged my hips and lower back during each contraction.

Around 8:30 PM, the on-duty OB came in for another check (they won't do it more frequently than every two hours).  She said she was a conservative in measuring and said 5 cm.  Could be 6.  Maybe.  I was like, "Really?  After 2 1/2 hours of all that, there was very little change!?"  This was in my head, of course, because I was unable to talk much.  I did ask for the ONE qualified midwife who does water birth to be notified.  She was not on duty but agreed to come in.  About that time, about 8:45, the water was ready.  And I was ready to be in it!  I was hoping for the relieving qualities I'd read about.

But, the untrained staff had overheated the water.  It was 110 degrees!  My legs were on fire, and I had to lean over the side while half-standing to wait for them to drain some hot water and put in some cold.  It had to get to 100 or lower.  95-97 degrees is preferred.  Contractions were coming like crazy by this point, and suddenly I said, "Oh, something's coming out!"  It was my bag of waters, slipping out of me.  My husband said it looked like my vagina blew a bubble.  And then it burst.  I said, "It's going to get bad in a hurry now!"  And it did.  They tried to do a cervix check on me then, and I couldn't move into a position favorable for them to do so.  I said, "It's getting really hard not to push."  I was trying every breathing technique I could think of.  Probably the hardest physical thing to do in the world is resist the urge to push.  They told me I had to get out of the tub.  The midwife would not make it before the baby would.  Someone (bless their soul) called her anyway and she told them she could be there in 10 minutes and to let me stay in the water.

Ten minutes.  Is.  Forever.

She arrived after what felt like an eternity of panting and puffing to avoid bearing down, and I was still holding out while she got her "goop gear" on.  She turned to me and said, "You can push if you feel the urge."  I said, "Oh, thank God."  And I did.  Between contractions, she checked and said, "Oh the head is right there."  Maybe two or three inches from the outside world.  I had gone from a "conservative 5 cm" to ready to rock in a half hour!

In perhaps 15 minutes (about 5 contractions with 2-3 pushes each), our son J entered the water at 9:50 PM.  The umbilical cord was around his neck one time so he was under water longer than typical to get the cord off his head.  He came up to the surface, and I grabbed him from the midwife and said, "My baby!"  I cuddled him up to me and he opened his eyes to look around.  He was beautiful and perfect.  He was finally here!

I had originally said my main reason for not getting drug intervention this time (aside from the side effects) was because with my firstborn, the pain meds had worn off and I felt everything anyway.  This is not entirely correct.  There were residual effects of the pain medicine then because this time I truly felt everything.  I admit... I am thankful for my very short time in labor.  However, I can also say with certainty that the ongoing uterine contractions during the first few days postpartum is worse than the labor and birth.  At least in labor you are progressing toward a goal - to have a baby.  While having a nice, firm uterus postpartum is important (reduced risk of hemhorrage, getting back to a non-pregnant state faster, reducing the hormone storm, etc.), it isn't quite the momentous achievement of birth.

Because my Week 38 Group B Strep test came back positive, I was supposed to have two doses of IV antibiotics administered over 4 hours to help little J enter the world without risk of infection.  Because we were at the hospital for less than 4 hours before he arrived, we obviously didn't make the cut.  So we had to stay longer in the hospital than we wanted.  But... how amazing a ride!  A boy who was determined to stay put for as long as he wanted in utero made a decision and acted on it without a degree of hesitation... when it was time to leave, he left expeditiously!

Exploring my inner hippie

You can't braid my armpit hair because there is none.  I don't make my own granola because I tend to eat sugary cereals and "field hand breakfast" (eggs, bacon, toast, grits, yum).  I don't recycle because there's not a recycling company that will pick up the recycling in my neighborhood, but there is a dump less than a mile away.  I use disposable diapers, disposable razors, paper towels, and I get plastic grocery bags at the store because (more often than not) I forget my re-usable grocery bags at home or in the back of the car.

However, I'm considering something even "hippier" than ever before: homebirth.  Okay, okay, it's only considered off the grid because so many women have been trained over the course of their lifetimes to view hospital births (or even birthing center births) as the only acceptable, clean, healthy way to have a baby.  Arguments on the pro side of hospitals and birthing centers are:

• You are close to (or co-located with) immediate emergency medical services, should the need arise
• You have access to medications and services that cannot be provided to you at home
• You don't have to get halfway through trying to push, only to realize that you need medical help to get that baby out (and then have to get in the car to go to the hospital)
• Hospitals are cleaner than your house (okay, well definitely cleaner than my house!)

But then there are the cons:

• "Sterile" environment still may cause exposure to germs from other sick people in the hospital
• Environment is not comfortable (even if they try to make the rooms more "homey" by adding soft colors and wood paneling)
• You don't get the rest you need because there is too much activity in the room/hallway
• Sometimes medical interventions happen because the on-call OB is too busy to wait for you to have your baby in the time it takes to have your baby (not because there is a medical need for it)

So I started exploring waterbirth last week, just because it seemed like a good idea and the hospital on base here has a birthing tub.  You are created in a womb full of water (or watery stuff) and there you grow until you emerge into the world, where it is shockingly cold and bright, and people take you away from the only person you've ever known (Mama!) to go get on a cold scale, get goop put in your eyes, get a shot of vitamin K, and have like a million people you don't know all fussing about in your immediate area (cleaning up, checking vital signs, taking pictures, etc.).  No WONDER babies cry when they are born!

On the flip side, you can be born into water that is the same temperature as Mom's body, pulled up into her arms and cuddled right away, where you can nurse and be happy and cozy for a few minutes at least before they have to do all that measuring and vital sign checking and junk.  Slightly less traumatic, right?

But we live in Alaska now.  And our baby is due to be born in early February.  It will still be cold (and that is an understatement), and my major concern is how quickly our firstborn arrived.  Second children come faster.  What if we don't make it to the hospital?

So that is when the idea of homebirth popped into my head.  And I can do a home waterbirth because tubs can be rented for about $350, I can have whoever I want in the room, I can be in my own familiar surroundings with my own familiar germs (and nobody else's!), and go crawl into MY bed (which is a sleep-number bed, by the way) after birthing my child.  No flustering of random nurses or attending physicians to come check out the damage done by putting in a fetal monitor that came out halfway through the birth, cutting me on the way out.  No blasts of cold air from the door being fanned at every opportunity with the in-and-out of all the random people.  No lights, sounds, machines, etc.  Just our home sounds, which our unborn child will be familiar with already after having lived there (muffled by the amniotic fluid) for the past several months.

It is a lot to think about, but after doing some checking up with my provider, I think homebirth is covered under our insurance.  How neat.