Category: Thing with a Thing in It

bookmark_borderFirst impressions of parenthood

Posted on by ErikaRS

To close out this blog, I want to share some first impressions of my experience as a mother.

The short answer is that I’m infatuated and tired.

Of course, I don’t have much experience yet — just over seven weeks — and my child isn’t that challenging yet, in the big scheme of things. She eats. She sleeps. She poops. But already, my life has changed to orient around her.

She’s the most wonderful little person in the world. Every movement and every sound is fascinating. Some of them are worrisome or annoying too, but still worthwhile. She’s growing and changing so quickly. She has slowed me down. I am paying attention to the tiniest things and living life on her schedule.

I have a much greater respect for other parents. I’ve always thought parents are doing wonderful work, but as everyone tells you, it’s not until you have a baby that you really know. I really appreciate the advice given and the advice not given by other parents I know. It’s been a whole new learning experience.

Of course, not everything is good. She can be fussy — everyone tells us that we’re currently at peak fussiness. Fortunately, bouncing and walking a baby is good exercise (and baby wearing is a life saver). We’re sleep deprived. Recently things have “improved” to where we often get a three hour chunk of sleep. Before that, the longest stretch was 1-1.5 hours.

But overall, our baby is healthy and generally pretty chill. I am excited about my new role as her caretaker, protector, teacher, safe harbor — in short, her mommy.

bookmark_borderRecovery

Posted on by ErikaRS

Here’s your unsurprising fact of the day: birth is a medical event.

It takes time for the body to heal. Recovery may range from an easy recovery for a birth without complications to a difficult recovery from a C-section (which is a major abdominal surgery). I can only speak to my own recovery which, fortunately, was on the easy end of the spectrum.

Oh, and be warned, while there’s nothing too graphic here, this is, in large part, a post about pain along and around the birth canal[1].

In the first couple days after birth, I was dealing with

  • a leg I couldn’t stand on because I had strained it during birth
  • copious amounts of blood — enough that I was soaking a super large thick pad every 4 – 6 hours
  • slight soreness which made sitting and pooping uncomfortable
  • pain when I urinated due to the stitches I had for a small tear in my perineum
  • painful “massages” to help shrink my uterus
In short, for the first few days, I would not have been able to get by without the help of the hospital staff or Jeff. Because of the strained leg, I couldn’t even hold my baby while standing up until several days after birth; even after I could stand and walk on my own, I was uncomfortable holding her standing until it felt completely normal.

Over the next couple weeks, there was

  • a continuation of general soreness
  • more bleeding — quite heavy for about a week, period like for another couple weeks after that, and finally fading a way over another week. (In reality, the decrease wasn’t quite so linear.)
  • a huge appetite (and I didn’t even have to spend a long time without food during labor). The second day we were home, we ordered in from Goldberg’s Deli, and I was still hungry after finishing a serving of french toast that has defeated some of my heartier friends. 
  • low physical endurance. After a few weeks of not even counting, I struggled to get 15,000 steps in a week. I’m up to about 30,000 now, but I still need to rest frequently[2].

That’s just the physical side of recovery. Just as important is the emotional side. It’s normal for new mothers to have some amount of baby blues[3]. After birth, the hormonal makeup inside a woman’s body changes dramatically. The hormones from the placenta are gone, other hormones are kicking in for milk production and recovery, and the normal hormonal activity is just completely out of whack.

I experienced a fair amount of emotional variance after birth, some good and some bad. On the good side was the intense rush of love I felt for my baby whenever I held her (or saw her or heard her or thought about her). There was one moment where I was holding Sylvia and looking at her and it just struck me how precious that moment was and how it and many others like it would soon be gone and forgotten. I started to cry (and I tear up a bit just remembering it).

On the bad side, there were several times I cried in frustration because of some small difficulty taking care of Sylvia (and because of some large frustrations, but those seemed more reasonable). One day I stayed in bed all afternoon I felt like I was nothing more than a milk machine, and not a very good one at that. I think that Jeff was a large part of the reason my blues didn’t turn into depression. He was there to support me and to make sure that I asked for support when I needed it.

At this point, I still tear up fairly easily, especially for anything that has to do with having difficulties with babies (e.g., reading a friend’s birth story or talking to a coworker about breastfeeding difficulties). I also still get intense rushes of joy. But it’s moderating back toward my normal emotional keel. I still experience both the love and the frustration, but they aren’t overwhelming emotions.

I am so grateful for the support that I had during my recovery period. The nurses at Evergreen Health were kind and capable. Jeff has been wonderful. The family and friends who have visited have been a huge help. Without the help of my community, even my easy recovery would have been much more difficult.

[1] No, I’m not just trying to avoid using the word vagina—just after birth, my birth canal didn’t really resemble anything I’d recognize as my vagina.
[2]  My step goal until about 6 months into the pregnancy was 80,000 a week.
[3] It’s also fairly common for that to turn into full blown postpartum depression, a serious condition which needs to be treated.

bookmark_border21st Century Fathers

Posted on by ErikaRS

This is a guest post from my wonderful husband, Jeff Scherpelz 


I am a stay-at-home dad (or a “full-time father”, as I like to call it), and I’m proud of it. This is not yet a common job, but it is becoming more culturally acceptable. Erika and I chose it mainly because it was a good fit for us and our desires; but now I want to encourage and promote more active involvement for fathers with their children, whether or not they stay home with them full-time.



We chose this setup because for us, it was a natural fit. We both wanted someone to stay at home with our child for a while. We were both willing to do it; but as the hope for a child became reality, it made the most sense for me to be the one to stay home. I’ve had a pretty fulfilling career so far; but I was feeling burned out with what I was doing, and ready for a change. In contrast, Erika is still heavily invested in her job, and has a strong desire to continue working. It also helps that she earns quite a bit more than I did, and has better benefits. She is better able to support us, and I was more interested in leaving my career (for a while).



Friends and family have been very supportive of our choice. I haven’t gotten a personal negative comment so far. However, societal norms and expectations are not always as supportive. They may not be overtly negative, but there is plenty of bias against men who don’t work. There is also the expectation that mothers are the ones who stay home. The idea of stay-at-home dads is gaining traction in our culture, though. Nearly everyone I talk to mentions that they have a friend or colleague where the father in the family stays home. The most interesting example of this recently is Max Schireson, the former CEO of MongoDB. He recently decided to quit his job to spend more time at home with his family. It is great that the CEO of a decent-sized company can make this choice, and generally get support for it. However, it is also telling that this case is so rare. Max also addresses this in his opening paragraph by noting that female CEOs are always asked how they can balance work and family life; while male CEOs never are. The role of father as the primary caretaker is still not encouraged or supported, even if it is accepted.



One of the classes I took shortly before Sylvia was born was called “Conscious Fathering”. It wasn’t about stay-at-home dads, but about being an involved and capable father. The biggest conceptual point made there was that fathers can do everything mothers can except for give birth and breastfeeding. While those are obviously important items, there are still a huge amount of other important tasks that fathers can do. Giving birth is a one-time event; and between pumping breast milk and formula, fathers can take care of their kids full-time right from birth. I’m certainly not advocating that mothers hand their babies over to their fathers and go back to work immediately. I think breastfeeding is a wonderful bonding experience, and mommy-baby time is very important. But the point is that fathers can be just as involved from the beginning of their child’s life.



Fathers also should be involved with their children. They often provide different interactions with children than mothers. An interesting survey that was mentioned in one our classes showed that when women think about interacting with a child (before they had one), they picture nurturing aspects such as feeding, cuddling, and soothing. But when asked the same thing, men pictured active aspects such as playing and teaching. This may be cultural, but how men and women are acting matters, since both kinds of interaction are important for children. Women are expected to provide the nurturing interactions; but we should also be encouraging men to be highly involved with their children so they can provide the more active interactions they seem inclined towards.



Personally, I want to provide as many of the appropriate interactions that I can with Sylvia. In order to do that, I listed out the main roles that I want to take, and what they involve.



My first role is as Caregiver. This is the most basic role, involving changing diapers, giving baths, feeding (via solid food and bottles), putting her to bed, getting her dressed, and comforting.



My second role is as Nurturer. This is the typical “mothering” role, involving things such as putting her to sleep, and comforting her when sad. When she’s a bit older, this also involves encouraging her to find things she likes, encourage her to try her best, and praising her effort. Ultimately I want to be a solid anchor for her when she needs emotional support.



My third role is as Playmate. This is encouraging her to explore and be active, involving playing games (from peek-a-boo to board games), playing with active and creative toys such as blocks or K’nex, to just running around.



My fourth role is as Instructor. This is teaching her skills and leading by example, involving basic activities such as making sounds and words for her to mimic, reading books, answering questions, and showing how to behave properly through my behavior.



My fifth role is as Protector. This involves protecting from physical harm, but also preventative care such as taking her to the doctor to make sure she is healthy. It also involves protecting her from unwanted attention or situations where she is unhappy or upset.



My final role is as Partner. This involves supporting Erika and being her equal. Sharing chores and tasks is important, but so is providing emotional support, along with a chance to rest as desired. This may not directly involve Sylvia, but a happy family and home environment is just as important as any of the other involvement.



My job as full-time father is just beginning. There is a lot to learn, and some cultural encouragements to overcome; but I am enjoying it so far, and looking forward to what comes next.

bookmark_borderBirth setting and support team

Posted on by ErikaRS

Sylvia was born, but I’m not quite done with this blog yet. This is the first of about four more posts I have planned—although this one was supposed to be posted before the birth.

Families have a lot of options for a birth setting and support team these days. Everything from a completely unmedicated home birth with a team that only supports home births to a planned cesarean section in a hospital. All of these birth choices are valid as long as the mother is educated about the choice she is making mother and her medical provider agree the setting and support matches the mother’s risk profile.

What went into my decision about birth setting and support team?

Interventions

I knew I wanted to try for an unmedicated birth. Part of this was pragmatic. The medical interventions associated with birth are not, despite the rhetoric on both sides, associated with significantly different birth outcomes for the mother or the baby for low risk pregnancies. However, they do tend to be chained to each other. Pitocin induced labor tends to cause more painful contractions which can lead to earlier epidurals which reduces the mother’s ability to move which can prolong labor (but remember these are tendencies, not absolutes). Given how I tend to cope with stress and discomfort, I knew that movement would be important to me during my labor. Thus, my desire to avoid medication. (I didn’t have time for any interventions anyway.)

I also wanted to try to go for an unmedicated birth just to see if I could. While I certainly am not an advocate of pain for its own sake, I also believe that pain is not necessarily bad. It’s part of the experience of an embodied being. The pain of birth has been part of the human experience since before we were human, and I wanted to be a part of that. Obviously, this is a very personal decision. We have the tools to make birth much less painful, and if pain turns to suffering, those tools can be wonderful.

All that said, I was not absolutely committed an unmedicated birth. If an intervention became medically necessary or if I just couldn’t handle the pain, I wanted those interventions to be available.

Support team


I wanted a support team that I felt would not only allow for my preferences but would also help make them a reality. Every provider has different preferences. The more that my preferences were aligned with those of the provider, the less I would need to worry about having to struggle to have things done to my preferences, whether before or during the birth.

I also knew that I wanted my support team to be small. Some people want their birth to be attended by family or friends. I didn’t want that. Birth, to me, is too intensely personal an experience for me to want to share it with anyone other than my husband.

The result


Given these preferences, I knew I wanted to give birth with a midwife. Midwives tend to be more aligned with my preference for minimal interventions. They also tend to be in the room for more of the birth process which was especially important if I wasn’t going to have other family or friends there for additional support.

I had a hard time deciding between a hospital or birth center birth. Some hospitals have default policies that would not align with my preferences (e.g., around insertion of IVs). The nurses may not be as supportive of forgoing interventions. Plus, a hospital has a certain atmosphere that is inherently medical.

On the other hand, birth centers support few to no interventions. If I was having a difficult birth or just wanted an epidural to cope with the pain, I would need to be transferred after I was already in labor. Plus, if I ended up having an unexpected complication, there was a slightly greater chance that the baby or I would end up harmed.

Ultimately, two factors made me decide on a hospital birth at Evergreen Health in Kirkland, WA. First, the birth centers I was considering only transferred to Evergreen for emergency transfers, even though they were right near the hospital. For non-emergency transfers, I would have had to be transported to a hospital in Seattle (and that was even more risky with the 520 bridge closed most weekends around Sylvia’s due date). One source I remember reading indicated that about a third of first time mothers giving birth at a birth center end up transferred at some point, so there was a reasonable risk of having to do an uncomfortable and stressful transfer while I was in labor.

Second, Evergreen is awesome. Evergreen Health Midwifery is a practice of midwives who work exclusively in the hospital and so know the hospital policies and are known by the hospital staff. The labor and delivery nurses are known for their high quality of care and their support for whatever birth preferences a woman may have. The labor nurses work with a single mother at a time, and so are there for support the whole time. Evergreen is also a certified Baby Friendly hospital—in fact, they were the first certified Baby Friendly hospital in the U.S. They are strong advocates of breast feeding and have good support both immediately after birth and after mom and baby go home.

To round out our support team, we decided to hire a doula. Sometimes people wonder if a doula is worth having if you’re working with a midwife. The one-on-one nursing support at Evergreen may make a doula seem even more redundant. But a doula provided us with a number of benefits.

A doula would support us before we went to the hospital, and staying home longer is associated with lower rates of interventions. Another benefit of a doula is they provide support for the partner (or can take on some of the support role of the partner for a woman giving birth without one). The midwife and the nurse would be there to support me. The doula would support Jeff by helping him remember coping and comfort techniques that he could use with me, by providing support to me when he needed a break, and by freeing him from small errands like getting bags from the car or finding snacks.

After looking at the profiles of local DONA certified doulas, we interviewed a couple and chose to work with Tiffany Guenther. We would have felt comfortable with either of the doulas we chose to interview, but we just clicked really well with Tiffany. Plus, in what ended up being a nice benefit given how quickly my birth went, she lives a lot closer to us than the other doula we were considering.

The judgment

So the upside of writing this post late is that I can tell you that I am quite happy with the decisions I made. Of course, I have to add the caveat that a lot of what went into my decision making process was not relevant. There was neither time nor need for interventions (there wasn’t even time to get all of my vital signs). We didn’t have much time with any of the support team. But knowing that I would give birth in a setting that supported my goals with people that supported my goals reduced the stress before hand, and they supported me just as well as I hoped during the birth.

bookmark_borderThe Birth of Sylvia: Jeff’s Perspective

Posted on by ErikaRS

Our birth story started several weeks before the due date, at Erika’s 36-week prenatal appointment. When checking her cervix, the midwife noted that she was already 3.5-4 cm dilated. Since that was a significant amount of what early labor comprises, we assumed that it was pretty likely Sylvia would be born early. We were nervous and feeling a bit overwhelmed, but we focused on getting those last preparations done quickly, so everything was ready to go at a moment’s notice.

That ended up being a false signal, as the due date of July 4th came and went with no activity. By this point we were starting to get impatient — we had been ready for at least a week already, had suspended most of our normal activities, and were having a hard time planning normal weekly activities, such as how much food to buy. Having the due date on a holiday also encouraged lots of “Happy Independence Day, and oh, how’s the baby?” resulting in reminders that yes, we indeed did not have a baby yet. The weekend passed, and Sunday evening came and went with no more signals than the days before.

So when I woke up at 4:15am Monday morning to Erika telling me her water broke, I was surprised at first, but a bit excited. We now knew that likely within 24 hours, Sylvia would finally arrive. I fully woke to help out, recording the information she would need to relay to the midwife on-call, Shana. Contractions still had not started, so we were prepared to try to go back to sleep and rest to prepare for the coming labor. I also started texting with our doula, Tiffany, to let her know that things would be starting sometime soon.

That “sometime soon” ended up being sooner than expected, as within minutes of finishing my conversation with Tiffany, Erika had a strong contraction. I relayed this to Tiffany, and Erika and I both realized we should start getting ready for the day, since we weren’t going to be going back to sleep. It was now 4:45am.

I was starting to get anxious, as I could see the pain Erika was feeling with the contractions. This was expected, but still difficult for me to see without being able to intervene beyond basic comforting measures. I also started timing contractions, and we realized they were only a few minutes apart. Erika did not make it far in getting ready, due to the intensity and frequency of the contractions. I made myself presentable enough, while texting with Tiffany more symptoms that Erika was feeling, confirming things were OK. Erika decided she needed to make it down the stairs before they became too great of a challenge, and started to vocalize more for the contractions. I was frantically communicating with Tiffany, and also paging Shana again, as it was clear things were progressing pretty quickly. Tiffany helped me stay calm by assuring us everything sounded normal so far. By 5:15am Erika was ready to leave for the hospital “right now”, Shana was heading there to meet us, and Tiffany was quickly getting over to our house.

I was feeling a bit frantic, but I was able to focus on what I had to do. We had made a list on the fridge of what to do before going to the hospital, mostly involving making sure our cats would survive for a day without us, and getting everything into the car that we needed. I finished this tasks, and then we impatiently awaited Tiffany. At this point I was still feeling OK about things. We were prepared, we were ready to head to the hospital, and I wasn’t as aware as Erika of how imminent things were. I still figured we had enough time, even though things were progressing quickly.

When Tiffany arrived about 5:30am, we helped Erika into the car and got her settled. I was able to focus on the driving, and we headed out into light early-morning traffic on the local freeway. Despite the rapid progression of labor, I was able to stay calm, and drive much more sedately than I normally do. Partly I wanted to not scare Erika or disrupt her with too much lane-shifting; and also because I wanted to make sure Tiffany was staying with us. At one point Erika seemed like she needed comforting, so I started to reach over; but she wanted me to stay focused on driving, so I did.

We pulled up to the hospital just after 6am. Tiffany was right behind us, and helped me get Erika out of the car. We both supported her as she walked to the maternity ward. When she paused at the doors, Shana came out to guide us into triage. At this point, things started getting frantic. I was focused on helping Erika, getting her water to drink, and trying to soothe her through the contractions. But as the nurses attempted to get Erika to sit on the bed and get monitoring on her, while getting the necessary paperwork signed, it was obvious that even the professionals were on alert, and trying to work quickly. Tiffany was a great help again, just providing support for me, making sure Erika’s purse and sandals were taken care of, running to get our bags with the camera in it, and even taking some pictures of the process.

Erika was obviously in pain and doing a lot of physical effort at this point. She did not want to sit, but wasn’t able to walk, either. By this point I definitely had adrenaline flowing, but by focusing on her, I didn’t feel scared or overly concerned. In a sense, things were happening too fast for me to worry overly much, so I just concentrated on what was happening with my wife.

The staff wanted to get her to a room, but Erika was not feeling like walking; and while sitting didn’t sound much better, she agreed a wheelchair would probably be best. However, by the time a nurse ran to fetch a wheelchair and return, Shana decided we would not be moving, as the baby’s head had already crowned. So for a contraction or two, I just provided support as Erika held on to me while standing. She then agreed she could probably make it back to one of the gurney beds in the triage room, and we helped her in, onto her hands and knees.

I helped her with more water, and rubbed her shoulders in between contractions. I listened to the nurses debating which room they might be able to get her to, and deciding between just keeping her in triage, or trying to make it to a room. Shana announced that if the baby wasn’t out after the next contraction, we would be running for the room. The nurses tossed a blanket over Erika, and we hurried out the door, as I kept as close as I could to Erika while her bed was wheeled out the back doors of triage, down a short corridor, around a corner, and into the closest room.

I had gotten a quick glimpse of Sylvia’s head earlier, but it was finally when we were in the room that I got a better look at the birthing process. It is not a pretty sight (as most medical-/biological-related are not, to my eyes at least), but it was also not an ugly or offensive sight. There was a bit of wonder present in it. At this point I could see a good portion of the top of Sylvia’s head, and the covering of dark hair that it already had. Shana decided it would probably help the process if we could get Erika onto her side, so several of us managed to tip her over, and I held up her leg to make delivery easier.

It was around this point that I was able to really watch during the contractions, and I could see Sylvia’s head slowly being pushed out into this world. I was suddenly struck by emotion at this new baby, my daughter, arriving. I started tearing up, but was able to hold on to Erika, and help through another couple pushes. Shana then was able to pull Sylvia the rest of the way out. It was 6:33am; we had been at the hospital for half-an-hour, and it was only a bit over two hours since we had woken up.

Sylvia was brought straight to Erika’s chest, still covered in goo and with umbilical cord attached; and not in any way disgusting. She gave her first cry, and I think that let loose the intensity and focus I had had. This new baby had arrived, and the hard work was over.

I noticed I was feeling a bit light-headed, and remembered that I hadn’t had a chance to eat that morning, due to the rush of everything. A nurse made me lie down on the floor, and brought me some crackers and juice, while Tiffany grabbed me a granola bar from our stash of healthy snacks. I was able to recover a bit, and move to sitting on the daybed in the room where I could watch the remaining work. I agreed to cut the umbilical cord after it had stopped pulsing. This was not as bad as I had feared; however, it ended up not being an emotional moment for me, either; it was just a task.

While Shana and the nurses got Erika cleaned up, patched up, and moved to the real bed in the room, I got a chance to hold Sylvia. It was strange holding this new baby: she seemed fragile, with her tiny digits and floppy head; but she also felt dense and warm in my arms. It still didn’t feel completely real, though; this little life in my arms felt special, but not yet personal.

A bit later I watched Erika nurse Sylvia, and it seemed like a significant moment, but I was unsure of the emotions I had: perhaps mostly a fondness for my wife and new baby. Throughout the rest of the day, and even several days later, I haven’t felt like a “father”, or that Sylvia is my “daughter”. I have definitely developed a relationship with her over these past few days, and I do love her very much, but it is also a quickly-changing feeling as I get to know my daughter, and learn her ways (even as those change), and slowly start to see her as a human being instead of just a helpless little creature. But when I pause to really look at her, and think about what she is, and what she will be, it is difficult not to get teary-eyed at how precious and special she is, and how significant she has already become in our lives.

bookmark_borderThe Birth of Sylvia: Erika’s Perspective

Posted on by ErikaRS
Sunday evening, I showered and then went to bed. I slept well, but at 4:15am, I woke up to a staccato punch in my lower abdomen. As soon as the thought that this might be my water breaking seeped into my mind, it was confirmed by a seeping feeling between my legs.

TV and movies aside, this is not common. As this article notes, prelabor rupture of membranes—water breaking— only happens for about 1 in 10 women. It was a surprise.

As my amniotic fluid dribbled out, I made my way to the toilet. Jeff fetched a towel. There, I saw that the fluid was accompanied by a fair bit of bloody show, which indicates that the cervix is really getting ready to let the baby through. Having blood come out of you, even when it’s expected, is worrisome, so I appreciated that Jeff was able to confirm with our doula, Tiffany, that it was perfectly bloody show.

Speaking of our doula, I love living in the future. Jeff was texting with Tiffany from nearly the beginning. Since they were texting he and she were both able to get ready while still getting us the support we needed.

I made my way back to bed, towel placed to catch dribbles, and called Shana, the midwife on call. I hadn’t had any contractions yet, and I already had an appointment scheduled for 9:15am, so we agreed that it would be best for Jeff and I to get what rest we could.

It was a lovely plan. Like all lovely plans, it was destined to failure. Within 10 minutes of laying back down—about 30 minutes after my water broke—contractions started. We knew we weren’t going to get any more rest, so we prepared for the day. I could not even make it through the 3 minute Sonicare toothbrush cycle without a contraction. Good thing I had showered in the evening.

The contractions were intense even from the beginning. I think it was my second contraction when I commented to Jeff, “Is this a contraction? I don’t think I like this.” Once the contractions started, my sense of time became hazy. My concentration was fully on dealing with the contractions. From the start, these were lasting 30 to 60 seconds and coming 2-5 minutes apart.

I spent my early contractions semi-squatting on the toilet. The position made them more tolerable, but at the same time more intense. It felt like I was working with my body to bring down the baby. It wasn’t too many contractions before this intensity became too much, and I started standing on my toes and pressing on the counter during contractions. I knew I was supposed to work with the contractions, but it felt too fast. I was right. By the time I had my last contractions upstairs, my vaginal area felt distinctly bulgy and I felt what I realized later was an urge to push. At that point I decided to go downstairs; I was afraid I wouldn’t make it later.

Jeff was trying to comfort me as much as he could between the small list of things that had to be handled before we left: communications with the midwife and doula, getting himself ready, getting the car packed, and making sure the cats had enough food to last a couple days. Even what he could do helped a lot. He reminded me to vocalize with low noises. He reassured me. He was a presence for me to lean on, emotionally and physically.

During one of my contractions downstairs, Jeff called Tiffany so she could hear me going through a contraction. She knew I was in active labor from my vocalizations and lack of ability to respond to questions and left for our place. Although it wasn’t the reason we chose her, we ended up being extremely grateful that she lives relatively near us.

Jeff used his cell phone dual wielding skills to also get in touch with Shana, our midwife. At this point, their conversation was pretty much “I’ll meet you at the hospital.” While we waited for Tiffany, Jeff finished getting things ready, and I breathed my way through more contractions. By this point, I knew we had to leave for the hospital right away.

I went in the entry and managed to put my shoes on while standing — no way I was going to be comfortable sitting down on the hard bench—and fashionably wrapped a towel around my waist—pants were also not an option. We waited a couple more minutes for Tiffany to arrive, and then went out to the car.

We’d been having hot weather in Seattle—high 80s and even a bit into the 90s—so it was nice that it was only about 5:30am and still relatively cool for the 15 feet we had to walk outside to get to the garage. The one contraction I had during that walk was bad enough. I would hate to think how miserable a contraction in 85F air would have been.

Jeff and Tiffany got me settled in the car, and we were ready to leave. Tiffany warned us that if we pulled over for any reason, she would call 911. We were off to the hospital.

Fortunately, traffic was still light. Those of you who know I-405 N in Bellevue, know that even an hour later, traffic would have been painful.

I had my first car contraction before we made it to the onramp. Jeff put his hand on my leg to comfort me, but I’m paranoid about safety in vehicles, so I reassured him that the best thing he could do for me was concentrate on driving. Contractions in the car are supposed to be more miserable, but by that point, my contractions were so intense that I hardly noticed the difference.

What I did notice was really strong urges to push. They were almost irresistible. Every contraction I straightened and stiffened my body. I knew I was pushing at that point, and I knew that I had to wait until we got to the hospital. I decided it would be best not to mention this urge to Jeff.

At about 6:00am we arrived at the hospital and pulled up in front of the Family Maternity Center. Jeff and Tiffany supported me on both sides, and Shana was waiting for us at the door. I don’t think I would have been able to get in without the three of them. I walked into triage, and the nurses and Shana started checking things out.

At this point, things become even more blurred, and I’m not sure of the sequence of events. I think I had my blood pressure checked. Maybe I was laying down. Jeff gave Tiffany the car key so she could get the camera and take pictures. Jeff never left my side, for which I was grateful. I wanted him there. Shana and the nurses were discussing which room to take me too. They wanted it to be a close one that was already ready since at that point, it was obvious the baby was coming imminently.

Finally, they decided to take me to a room and went to get a wheelchair. I got up off the triage gurney bed and tried to walk. I couldn’t. Not because it hurt. It was just physically impossible. Shana checked, and baby was crowning. I couldn’t walk because there was a head between my legs. At this point, she had me get back on the gurney bed, because it was obvious that I wasn’t going to make it to the bed in the room before this baby came out. I got on my hands and knees because that was the only position that seemed bearable.

One of the nurses tried to put a warm sheet over me—or maybe that was earlier, the first time I was on the bed? I protested with an eloquent “Warm bad.” and it was removed. I pushed through several contractions, and baby was definitely coming out, but since she wasn’t out yet, Shana and the nurses decided to make a quick dash to the room that had been prepped for me. We rushed an extremely long distance—Jeff claims it was a fast walk to the closest room, but you couldn’t have convinced me of that at the time—and made it to the room.

I pushed once, maybe twice, and Shana convinced me to try moving to my side. I was convinced getting onto my side was impossible, but with help, I was able to go from on my hands and knees to on my right side. I lifted my left leg over Shana’s shoulder to open up my pelvis, pushed a couple more times through the intense burning, and out came baby! After the head, the rest was easy. It was 6:33am, about two and a quarter hours since labor had started.

Pushing hurt, although in a different way than contractions. Contractions were intense and encompassing. Pushing was sharp and localized. What made pushing harder than contractions, in some ways, is that there wasn’t the full relief between pushes that there had been between contractions. Even at their most intense, between contractions, I felt nearly normal. But between pushes I still felt strained and stretched from baby’s partially extruded head.

They put Sylvia straight onto my abdomen with her little gooey head barely nestled between my breasts. We left the umbilical cord attached until it stopped pulsing, someone clamped it, and Jeff cut it. (Even with waiting, there was a small vial of cord blood left for donation!) At this point, I more or less started ignoring everyone else around me — okay, I had been doing that already — and concentrated on my beautiful little baby.

After Jeff cut the umbilical cord, the nurses had him lie down. Between the lack of food, the adrenaline, and perhaps the sight of all of the blood and goo and whatnot, he was feeling a bit light headed.

After the umbilical cord was cut, Shana had me push out the placenta. This was a bit harder than pushing out Sylvia’s body since by that point, I had started to relax a bit, but it was still relatively easy. The placenta was very interesting to look at, but seeing it just reinforced our lack of desire to save or process it in any way.

There was some cleanup. Shana gave me a few stitches for my one tiny vaginal tear. Sylvia and I were moved to the bed. At this point, it finally started to hit me. We had a baby. A sweet, precious, brand new, cute-even-though-she-was-slimy-and-slightly-bluish baby! It had all gone so quickly that it was almost hard to process. But there she was.

They did some initial checks, and Sylvia and I had our first breastfeeding experience—with Tiffany’s help to get us on the right track. Jeff recovered and joined us by the bedside. We were a little family.

In retrospect, it seems like I may have more or less started labor in transition (the third stage of labor where your body switches from opening the cervix to pushing the baby out). This is incredibly fast; much faster than the dozen or two hours that is more standard for a first baby. Shana said, quite seriously, that next time we have a baby, if the waters break, we should head to the hospital immediately.

I certainly don’t mind having missed out on the hours of painful contractions, but I wouldn’t characterize this labor—or any labor—as easy. Because I started labor so late into the process, I went straight to the most intense contractions, from nothing to incredibly intense pain. I’ve read that pain of the uterus contracting back to normal size after birth can be as intense as early contractions. None of my contractions were anywhere near that mild (and those healing contractions were still quite unpleasant).

Having labor progress so quickly was quite frightening in retrospect. At the time, I didn’t have a chance to be afraid. But I very very realistically could have ended up giving birth at home or in the car or an ambulance on the side of the freeway.

I am grateful now that I learned coping techniques for dealing with labor pain and Jeff and Tiffany’s reminders of these techniques. I learned these because I planned to have an unmedicated birth (unless there was a medical reason to do otherwise). But it’s impossible to predict what will happen in birth. If I had been planning on an epidural, I would not have had a chance to get one. Even if I had teleported to the hospital immediately, it would almost certainly have been too late. Because I was able to get the support I needed to work through other coping techniques, I was able to make it through an intense labor.

And now, Jeff, Sylvia, and I are learning how to build our lives together. It’s a whole new adventure, and one I look forward to experiencing.

bookmark_borderWaiting

Posted on by ErikaRS
“Traditionally used by women”
… but we won’t say what for because
then we’d be making medical claims

No baby yet. It’s only two days past the due date, so that’s not too surprising. For women who were still pregnant at 35 weeks, the probability of spontaneous birth having happened by the due date is only  ~50%. See, for example, this birth data[1][2]. Which makes sense. The due date is the single day with the highest probability of the baby being born in what is a normalish distribution. Even that date is fairly suspect when the date of conception is not known.

But that doesn’t mean nothing has changed. Planning is more frustrating the further along we get. Even normally simple things like meal planning become hard. How many meals should we plan? Which ingredients need to be used this week and which can wait?

Practicalities of math and planning aside, mentally, I am in the space of feeling like something should be happening. I want to meet Baby! Plus, now that I’ve reached my due date, the social pressure to have the baby has gone way up — even if, mathematically, that’s completely unfair. I very much appreciated the well wishes, but this year easily sets a record for the number of Happy Forth of July messages sent to me.

I will admit to have tried some of the things on the list of probably-not-effective-but-known-to-be-harmless ways to make labor come sooner[3]: walking, sex, raspberry leaf tea. Even if I don’t actually think these will do anything, at least it gives me the illusion of some influence — and they’re all enjoyable. I’m also trying ice cream as an induction method. No luck yet, but I definitely need more data. I’ve may try massage too. =)

Baby will come when it comes. I just have to be patient. But patience is hard.

[1] Note that the data is not normalized for spontaneous births, so the 42.7% of the births by the due date represents ~56^ of all spontaneous births (since ~76% of the births in the data set were spontaneous).

[2] If you like poking at graphs, click through to the other charts on that site. It’s pretty interesting.

[3] As opposed to the much longer list of things that are definitely not at all effective, the things I have tried do at least have the possibility of maybe doing something, but the evidence is sketchy and the effects tiny at best.

bookmark_borderWhat does it feel like to be pregnant?

Posted on by ErikaRS

I’ve been terrible at writing about the physical experience of pregnancy. I’ve been fortunate enough to have an easy pregnancy. So here is my experience of pregnancy, in one large go.

I’m heavier and larger than I’ve ever been. Since the weight has mostly gone where pregnancy weight is expected to go, my fundamental body image hasn’t changed.

But the size and shape changes have had an impact (especially when combined with recent joint loosening). Getting up from sitting is hard, especially if the seat is cushy. I can’t l lay on my stomach or, without propping, my back. My balance is off. I haven’t fallen or injured myself (and hopefully won’t), but I have found myself using the wall or a table for support from time to time.

My reach is shorter. With an extra 6 – 8 inches between me and whatever I’m reaching for, I effectively have shorter arms. When I’m washing the dishes, for example, I have to strain to reach the bottom of the sink.

My abdominal muscles are less effective. Now that I can’t use them well, I realize how much they are used for. They, as much as the shape and weight changes, are implicated in my problems getting up. But they also make basic activities like twisting my torso and reaching for things noticeably more difficult. Fortunately, I can replace using my abdominal muscles with using my arms much of the time.

Probably the most frustrating thing for me — both practically and for my self-image — is that I walk slowly and can cover less distance. Late April was the last time I was able to handle a 2.5 mile walk. These days, I can still handle 1 – 2 miles, but I have to take it slowly, and it had better not include much in the way of hills or heat. I’ve lowered my weekly step goal from 80,000 to 50,000 — and I’m really happy if I get it. All this is partially due to the general weight gain and fatigue, but it’s also due to lower blood pressure which leads me to feel dizzy if I over exert myself. (There was only one time I almost fainted, but that one time was by myself at a bus stop with no bench; I was scared until I felt passed the point where I knew I wouldn’t loose consciousness.)

Of course, no post on what it feels like to be pregnant would be complete without discussing the classic trio of nausea, pee, and sleep problems. (Lovely, I know.)

If there was any part of my pregnancy where I experienced symptoms that were worse than average, it was nausea. I didn’t have nausea to a point where it was medically worrisome, but I was generally sick daily, sometimes multiple times in a day. My nausea lasted through the second trimester, and it was into the third trimester before I stopped having minor nausea triggered by long bus rides and brushing my teeth wrong. Nausea more commonly is gone early in the second trimester, and while feeling sick every day is common, being sick every day is not. I learned to be very careful about how much I ate and how often. Not eating enough would make me feel sick, but eating too much at once would also lead to me feeling sick. I also carried around my emergency tupperware container until I stopped commuting to work (takes up more space than a bag, but way easier to deal with once it’s been used).

On the positive side for digestive problems, it’s really only been the last couple of weeks that I’ve started having acid reflux issues, and those mainly when I go to bed too soon after eating. Many women have to deal with reflux during most of the third trimester. Ah, the joys of a compressed stomach.

Another internal organ that’s compressed is the bladder. Yes, the stereotypes are true: pregnant women need to pee a lot. Fortunately, since my mobility has not been much impaired, this has not been too hard to deal with. I did end up being late for meetings more often; I can’t take as many back-to-back meetings without a bio break as I usually can. What’s been more difficult has been losing my ability to really tell if I need to urinate. Sometimes nothing feels the same as a significant volume waiting to come out. (Isn’t this part fun?!)

Urination is one of the big contributors to not being able to sleep well, but far from the only one. I wake up 2 – 4 times a night due to needing to urinate or being uncomfortable (in the latter case, I’ll probably take a bathroom break anyway, because I’ve learned to never turn down a good bathroom break opportunity). It’s really hard to get and stay comfortable when you can only sleep on your side — and I’m normally a side sleeper — and when flipping from one side to the other is an olympic event.

Then there are the random things. Like having my belly button go flat, the general increased soreness/bleeding of my gums (minor, but annoying), and being warm all the time. There are probably a dozen more of these, but at this point, I’ve gotten so use to them as to not notice.

There are also the symptoms I’ve been fortunate enough to mostly avoid such as back and hip pain, food cravings, swelling, hemorroids, constipation, visually prominent veins, etc.

Overall, I’ve had a pretty reasonable pregnancy so far. I haven’t had any magical feelings of glowing — I’m definitely not one of those women who enjoys pregnancy for its own sake — but I haven’t had too much suffering either.

I like to look at the problems I have as practice for having baby. Bad sleep gets me use to waking frequently. Nausea gets me use to having to deal with bodily fluids at awkward times. Small frequent meals prepare me for small frequent feedings. Walking slowly and shorter distances prepares me for life carrying or walking with a small child. Obviously, none of these are the same as it will be with baby, but it’s still practice. I’m just grateful my pregnancy has been mild enough that I can look at it positively.

bookmark_borderOpening my heart

Posted on by ErikaRS

Love makes us vulnerable. Even in our most intimate relationships, we tend to hold some part of ourselves in close to avoid being hurt. We love conditionally — usually, on the condition of being loved — even when we think we’re giving our whole selves.

But with a child, with Baby, I expect the flood gates to open. I already love Baby so much, and we haven’t even met yet. I love Baby just because Baby is Baby. And the unqualified nature of that love opens me to all the vulnerability of love.

It’s scary — more scary than the day-to-day changes that will be coming to my life soon (and those are intimidating enough). The day-to-day changes will affect the outer shape of my life. They will bring me stress and bring me joy. But they won’t, fundamentally, be a threat to my innermost being. But loving this little person with my whole heart? That touches my sense of self more deeply than even the other loves in my life.

But I believe it will be a change for the better, that it will be a change that makes my life richer and open me up to love more deeply all the time. At least, I sure hope so, because this love is happening, whatever the consequences.

bookmark_borderWhy can’t my registry be magically generated?

Posted on by ErikaRS

Here’s a product idea for anyone looking for one.

There are lots of baby registry guides out there, but I want one that’s a bit smarter. That knows more about me. Baby products are one of those areas where there’s a lot of choice and where some decisions matter much more than others — and a new parent doesn’t know which is which.

I don’t want a registry guide. I want a registry generator. It would take into account baby’s gender (or unstated), how elaborate of a setup you want (bare bones or all the bells and whistles?), general spending criteria (are you trying to spend as little as you can? is money no object? somewhere between?), and some aesthetic guidelines.

Given this, it would generate a base registry with suggested items and quantities, with no more than 3 options per item. You could then use the same criteria to customize specific items — I might generally be cheap, but want a really high quality stroller. The base registry could then be tweaked like a normal registry: items could be added, removed, replaced, quantity updated.

So who’s going to be the wonderful person to tell me this already exists? =)