Dane's Birth Story

In order for this birth story to make any sense you need to know that Marvin and I took a 12 week Bradley Method Class to prepare for this natural childbirth.  Marvin knows very, very little about the technical details of labor and the main thing he got out of the class was "say no to everything".  I just wanted to be left alone and I didn't want anything done to me.  I didn't want cervical checks.  I didn't want pitocin.  I didn't want my water broken.  I didn't want any of the things doctors do to "speed" labor along. His role was to support me and speak up when I couldn't speak for myself.  He took his role VERY seriously.

This is a birth story.  Birth isn't a neat or clean thing.  There's blood involved.  A baby comes out of your body.  If you have a problem with the word "vagina" you should stop reading now.  I'm going to tell you the story exactly as it happened because I'm Diana and it's how I tell a story: unnecessary details added.  Dane was born on May 30th at 3:13 AM.  I "knew" I was in labor every single day beginning on May 20th when I had some slight spotting and started to lose pieces of my mucous plug (remember the disclaimer about birth not being neat?).  "Knowing" I was in labor and then waking up pregnant was a real blasty blast.  It made life drag by SO slowly.  I won't spare you the details of all of those days, but just know that waiting for labor is harrrrrrd!

So, on Wednesday May 29th I wake up pregnant....again.  I was so sure that he would be born before this point that it was making me slightly crazy.  I wake up around 5AM because of a contraction.  I've had random contractions all week.  I roll my eyes.  I shift and try to get comfortable.  I try to ignore it.  Blah.  It's not working.  Whatever.   I accept defeat and surf Facebook.  Marvin wakes up for work and asks me why I'm not sleeping.  "My stomach hurts," I say.  I don't even want to say the word 'contraction' at this point.  I figure that a stomach ache is as close to telling him why I'm awake as I can get without flat out lying.  We both are so tired of hypothesizing when labor will begin and trying to figure out if "this" is real that I decide to at least spare him.  Marvin goes to work.

I get up to pee and there's some bloody mucous on the toilet paper.  I've had blood.  I've had mucous.  I have NOT had bloody mucous.  Maybe that means something?  I continue having contractions but they are not lasting long and they are sporadic and not getting closer together.  I have a feeling this might really be it. Maybe?  Probably not, though.  I decide to alert the pregnant ladies in our secret Facebook group and tell no one else.  I mostly go to them so they can all tell me about the time that they had blood tinged mucous and it meant absolutely nothing.  I don't need to get my hopes up for the millionth time.  I decide to do my normal morning cleaning and ignore these contractions that way when they go away in an hour I will at least be happy that I have a clean house.  I refuse to look at the clock when they come.  I don't want to time them.

The house is clean and I'm still having contractions.  They still aren't getting closer together.  Sometimes I have to move through them, but mostly they are just slightly uncomfortable, sort of like a period cramp.  A normal person in maybe-labor would stay home and, ya know, labor.  I'm so done with being in fake labor that I decide to go run errands and ignore these stupid, pointless, annoying contractions.  This will probably fizzle out anyway, and I would rather not notice when they do.  

Elaina and I go to the bank and then we decide to walk around K-Mart and waste time.  We spend about two hours running errands, and by the time we come home it is Elaina's nap time.  My contractions haven't died down, but they haven't really picked up either.  They come randomly and with no pattern.  I never experienced false labor with Elaina and I'm so over this whole thing.  I decide to google "prodromal labor" to see how long this junk can last.  Bad idea.  The answer is: forfreakingever.  This fake labor is for the birds!  Elaina is napping and the house is clean, I may as well take a nap.  I lay on the couch and am unable to sleep.  Boo.  My sister-in-law, Dee, comes to stay with Elaina while I go to my doctor's appointment.  She arrives and I head out.  My doctor's appointment is at 2:45, but it always takes at least an hour until I'm seen.  Marvin doesn't get off of work until 3:30, but we're sure he'll make the appointment with time to spare.  At precisely 2:46 I get called back.  Wowzers.  They are actually on time?  This is THE FIRST time they aren't running behind.  Typical.  I text my mom to come hang with me at the appointment since it looks like Marvin won't make it and she works right next door.  

The nurse listens to Dane's heartbeat and I have a contraction while she does. It's a strong one and she looks at me like I'm crazy. "Maybe he'll tell you to go to the hospital," she says.  I think to myself: He may, but I'm not going.  I ask her how Dane's heartbeat responded to the contraction and she says it went up. Not a decel!  Good to hear!  The nurse leaves.  My mom and I spend our time waiting for Dr. Brown laughing and cracking jokes.  I think my water breaks while I'm sitting on the table because some..... stuff comes out.  I contemplate not mentioning it to Dr. Brown because if it did break he's going to make me head to the hospital, and start pitocin and I am not about laboring naturally on pitocin, plus I'm not crazy about what pitocin (and the unnaturally strong contractions it causes) could do to Dane's heartrate.  Pitocin = stronger than normal contractions = possible stress on baby = c-section.  That's how it works in my head.  One intervention leads to another and then another etc. etc.  

My mom thinks I'm crazy at this point.  I decide to mention it to Dr. Brown so she doesn't freak out.  I decide I'll just ignore him if he tells me I have to go to the hospital.  "So, my water either broke or I peed myself while I was sitting here 3 minutes ago, but if it did, I don't want to go to the hospital until labor has a chance to establish naturally," I say.  "If your water broke, it's not negotiable," he says.  He checks and it turns out my water didn't break.  He gives me a speech about how IF my water breaks I need to come to the hospital immediately.  I agree when he tells me that he will give me 12 hours from the time my water broke to let labor begin naturally before beginning pitocin. I can always fib the time my water broke, too. Ok, ok, I agree that if my water breaks, I'll come in!! I am 3 cm and 90% effaced.  Dr. Brown says the way I'm contracting he thinks it will be very, very soon.

I go home and Marvin is home at this point.  He, Dee and Elaina are in the play room visiting.  I tell them about my appointment and have a few contractions that are painful enough that I have to change positions.  Dee leaves and Marvin suggests going out to dinner.  Why not?  I'm still contracting, but I still haven't timed them.  I am in major denial at this point.  We drive to Mongolian Grill and when we get out of the car I have a contraction so strong that it makes me sweat and I have to REALLY focus through it.  I wonder if having dinner out was such a great idea afterall.  Throughout dinner I am contracting and they are coming rather frequently and they're getting more painful.  I'm having dinner at a restaurant and I'm in maybe-labor.  Am I dumb?   I'm trying to play it off for the onlookers, but the sweat, big pregnant belly and swaying may be giving me away? 

Marvin decides we should rent some movies and then we head home.  Marvin is in denial, too.  At this point no one is talking about the contracting-regularly elephant in the room.  Marvin and Elaina lay in bed and watch a cartoon movie and I go to take a bath.  My contractions are pretty intense at this point.  I need to move through them.  I can't lay down in the bathtub, it hurts too badly.  I sit in the tub sideways and rest my head forward against the side of the tub.  Marvin asks me to do something and I snap at him, "I'm in labor here, can you handle it?!?".  He looks confused: "Wait, you are?".  "Yes, duh!! What do you think is going on?".  "I don't know," he looks confused.  He gets a big smile on his face and comes and kisses me and tells me we are going to get through this labor with no problem and to let him know if I need something   I'm saying the words "I'm in labor" out loud, but I don't really, truly believe them.  I still keep waiting for things to fizzle out.  I'm so worried that everyone will have been alerted for nothing and I'll look stupid. 

After I get out of the bathtub, I decide it's a good idea to text my mom and let her know I'm in labor and, since she will be taking care of Elaina while we are at the hospital, that she should be on alert for our "it's time" phone call.  It's about 7:40 PM. 

                                                                                                                        I decide to start timing contractions.  They are coming every 4 minutes and are lasting about a minute.  That's the time frame that we are taught to go to the hospital in our class.  I decide that we're going to have to ignore that and go by the intensity of the contractions because it still feels too early to me.  I spend the next hour packing Elaina's bag.  It takes that long because I have to focus through the contractions.  I put Elaina to sleep and Marvin and I decide to watch a movie.  He keeps telling me to lay down, but the contractions are roughly 378 times harder to manage while laying down.  I watch the movie rocking on the birth ball and walking when I get the urge. I officially know that I am in labor now.  No ifs ands or buts about it.  This hurts too bad and too often to be a tease.  I've been having contractions since 5AM, and they haven't died down once.  This is labor.  Wow.  Ok, so, this is labor.   They are now strong enough that each one needs my concentration and I have to breathe through them and focus on relaxing.  

When the movie is over I tell Marvin that we should finish packing our bags.  We pack through my contractions.  When the bags are packed we put on music and work through labor together.  The contractions are really strong now.  Talking is not allowed during the contractions and in between contractions I am not my lively normal self.  I start to notice that I'm nauseated.  In my Bradley class we are taught that nausea can be a sign of transition.  I know this can't be transition because it's too soon, and it doesn't hurt like I imagine transition will, but the nausea coupled with the intensity of the contractions makes me think we should head to the hospital now.  I definitely don't want to be on the road when transition comes.  I tell Marvin to let my mom know it's time.  It's about 11:00 PM. 

At this point Marvin is the world's best husband.  He times the contractions, packs up the vehicle, helps me sway through them and keeps praising me.  So far, he is allowed to be awake (remember Elaina's labor?).  "You are doing so good!!  I know it's not easy, but you are making it look so easy."  I worry that when things REALLY get hard and I start acting like a crazy person I'll let him down.  "It's still early, though," I say.  "Don't judge me later when it's harder."

We head to the hospital.  My mom reminds me to wear my seatbelt.  Yeah, right.  No seatbelts will be worn tonight.  I cannot sit in the seat in the conventional way.  I lean the seat all the way back and face the back of the vehicle. Picture: my ass facing the windshield.  I have three contractions on the way to the hospital. I want to get into the room and not have to move again.  Traveling through labor is stupid and I hate it.

We arrive at the hospital and I have a contraction in the parking lot. We get to the ER entrance and Marvin goes to handle the paperwork.  He is still allowed to be awake and I still love him at this point.  A woman comes to me and asks me if she needs to send for someone from Labor & Delivery to come and get me.  "No, thanks, I'm good," I tell her.  She responds that she just wanted to make sure because she's never been in labor before.  A contraction comes and I lean over the desk and breath and sway.  I am not making any noise, just breathing through it.  The same woman comes back.  "Miss Diana, I need to put this bracelet on you," she says.  I'm having a contraction and it effing hurts so I do what any woman in labor would do: ignore her.  She doesn't get it.  "Miss Diana? MISS DIANA? MISS DIANA".  Yep, she definitely hasn't been in labor before.  Is she effing serious??  The contraction is over and I look up at her like she is the dumbest human being alive.  She doesn't notice. It's about 12:00AM. 

We go on our merry way upstairs and I have a contraction in the elevator and the elevator starts to beep because I'm not getting off.  I force myself to walk out of the elevator.  Someone meets us in our room.  It's the huge L&D room reserved for mothers laboring naturally.  There's a tub in there.  I have never seen something more beautiful in my life.  

A nurse comes in and tells me to change into the gown.  I tell her that I am going to be laboring in my own clothing.  She tells me that it will make checking me and delivery very difficult, and they really need something more loose on bottom.  They are already challenging the things in my birth plan.  I'm not being polite!  I'm going to get what I want.  I've been ready for this fight all along.  Try me, woman!  "Dr. Brown signed off on my birth plan.  It says I can labor in my own clothes."  A contraction comes and I close my eyes and sway.  The nurse says, "That's fine, but you..... Oh, are you having a contraction?  Ok, you can wait till it's done to answer me or tell me to shut up if you want."  Instantly I love her.  I trust her.  That's all it took.  This woman is my friend and she gets it.  I take off my bottoms and put on the oober sexy mesh panties she gives me.

It's hospital policy that they get a "strip" on you.  Meaning they have to monitor your contractions and the baby's heartbeat on the monitor for about 20 minutes.  I'm ok with this and was prepared for this part.  They hook me up and I sit on the birth ball.  They have some questions to ask me.  The nurse asks the questions in between contractions and she is completely silent during contractions.  On purpose.  Like, she takes her time asking these questions waiting for my contractions.  Wow.  Thank you, God, for this nurse.  Dane's heartrate goes up during contractions.  No decels.  All is good.  

Now it's time for my initial cervical check (the only one I plan on having, apart from when I'm ready to push).  Brittany, the nurse, waits for the contraction to be over to check my cervix.  (Have I mentioned that I love her?)  I am 6cm and Dane is at 0 station.  I'm done with all the intake stuff and it is tub time.  Brittany, also known as God's gift to laboring mothers, runs the water for me and I cannot wait to get in the tub.  It's about 12:45AM. 

The tub is a magical, magical place.  We have the music going.  Brittany dimmed the lights (I know, right?).  At this point, my contractions are bad enough that I have to really, really focus on them.  They feel like they last a really long time.  Our birth photographer, Annie, walks in during a contraction.  When the contraction is over I say hi to her and tell her it's nice to meet her.  "Y'all don't know each other?!," Marvin asks as if I'm crazy.  I don't even notice Annie is there after that.  She is so quiet and out of the way.  She is now on the "I love these people" list along with Brittany and Marvin.  For clarification purposes, the intake lady who has "never been in labor" is NOT on this list.  

The contractions get out of control.  Making noise feels good.  Up until this point I have been silent.  They are double peaking.  Meaning, they start off dull-ish and reach I'm-going-to-die levels and then become less intense and then reach I'm-going-to-die levels again before dying off.  They last about a minute and a half.  There is no comfortable position during the double peak contractions.  The contractions are coming close together now and while I do have a break in between it is short.  The noises coming out of my mouth are getting more Cristina Aguillera-ish and less cow-ish.  

I have a few more double peaking contractions and feel alot of "down below" pressure.  I know it's not time to push yet because I haven't reached the "I can't do it anymore, give me meds" irrationality that transition brings.  I say nothing.  I have two more contractions and I feel like I am going to poop in the tub.  I decide to mention it to Marvin.  Brittany comes in to listen to Dane's hearbeat on the doppler.  After the contraction is over I tell her that I feel like I need to poop.  "It's too early to push, though, right?"  She suggests I go through two more contractions and see how they feel. During the next two contractions Marvin suggests I "put a little pressure" behind the contraction to see how it feels.  He says this twice in a row and it pisses me off and I tell him to "shut the fuck up".  Oops.  I go through two more and I want to be checked NOW.  I think I need to push!  In my head it feels too soon, but my body isn't on board.  I tell Brittany I want to be checked.  Marvin interrupts, "No! You said you didn't want to be checked."  I tell him I feel alot of pressure and need to be checked.  He argues with me.  "No, you're ok.  You don't want to be checked."  I lose my patience: "MARVIN! Don't argue with me when I'm in labor! I didn't want to be checked because I didn't want to get disappointed by the number.  If I feel like I need to push I need to be checked.  I don't care what the number is.  I won't get disappointed."  Brittany checks me while I'm in the water.  (Pause and remind yourself how much I love this person.) "You're a 9.  You have a little lip left on the right side.  Lean on that side.  I'm going to call Dr. Brown.  If you start having an uncontrollable need to push, come get me.  I have no qualms with catching a baby if I need to.  When you can, it's time to get out of the tub."  

I lean on the side Brittany suggests and have one more contraction before hurrying along to the bed.  It really doesn't feel real.  It's time to push already?  But, I didn't go through transition yet!  I don't feel self doubt yet.  The Bradley class said I would feel self doubt.  

I get in the bed and get on all fours and stick my naked ass in the air for all to see.  You're welcome, guys.  Brittany comes back and tells me Dr. Brown is on his way and I have an irrational conversation with her about "is it really time to push?".  I can't get over it.  This is really it?  Are y'all sure?

Dr. Brown walks in.  "That was fast," I tell him.  Brittany says, "You don't want your water broken at all?". "NO!," Marvin answers.  Brittany says that she's just asking because pushing may be easier and faster if Dane doesn't have the water cushioning his head.  "NO!!!," Marvin answers again.  No one is talking to him, but he is on a mission.  "Well, should we break it now or wait?," I ask.  "NO!," Marvin says.  I take a break from birthing our second child to explain to Marvin that the reason I didn't want my bag of waters artificially broken is because laboring is easier with the water intact and I didn't want to be put on a timeframe to produce the baby because of the fear of infection, but now we're pushing and if it'll speed things along, I'm all for it.  He explains to me that I told him I didn't want my water broken.  He says I told him I wanted it to happen on it's own.  Note to self: next time you're in labor teach Marvin the WHY behind saying no.  A contraction comes and the water talk stops.  I push with all of my might.  It feels EXACTLY like your pooping.  Like, the same way you would "push out a poop" is EXACTLY how you push out a baby.  It literally feels like I'm going to poop on the table.  

The contraction is over. "Ok, is this going to be like 2 hours of pushing?  Because if so, I will die," I ask Dr. Brown.  "No, the baby is coming this contraction or the next."  A contraction comes and I close my eyes and push.  They tell me they see the head and he has hair and it's DARK.  Oh my.  I can't wait to see!!  I push and I feel a gush of fluid.  My water broke!  "What was that," Marvin asks.  "It was my water," I answer.  Marvin looks at Dr. Brown with a seriousness I rarely see.  "Did you break it," he asks Dr. Brown.  Dr. Brown nods and Marvin gives him a "look" and then looks at me.  Uh oh.  Marvin is angry. 

A contraction comes and so does a burning sensation known as "the ring of fire".  Brittany is a magical human being so she knows that I'm feeling the ring of fire without me saying anything and tells me to push through the burn and I'll meet my baby.  This woman is a goddess.  I push through the burn and it feels like I ripped my urethra open.  Dane's head is out.  

Soon after his body is born and I am in disbelief.  "He's here," I say.  I keep saying over and over how I can't believe he's really here.  That's it?  That was so much easier than I thought.  They tug him and move him in a weird way and I can feel them pulling the cord.  Weird.  They immediately put him on my chest and I am in awe.  I can't believe this is really happening. We stimulate him and suction him.  Dr. Brown says it's time to birth the placenta and to give a push.  I push and the placenta comes out.  I have never felt more relief in my life.  "That felt so good.  I can breathe," I say.  I put Dane on my chest to nurse him and he latches on right away and sucks like there's no tomorrow.

"You're bleeding more than we like to see.  Is it ok if we give you some pitocin," Brittany asks me.  "NO!," Marvin answers.  "Yes, if I need it to stop from hemorrhaging."  I say.  Marvin looks at me and reminds me that I don't want pitocin.  I kindly let him know if my choices are bleeding out and pitocin, I'll take the pitocin.  Dr. Brown suggests she massage my fundus more and wait and see.  She does, and we end up not needing the pitocin.  Marvin is no longer mad at Dr. Brown.  

Dane lays on my chest and nurses and I just keep talking about how I can't believe he's here and it's done.  We lay there and he nurses and eventually I get up and shower and bathe Dane.  Yep, that's right, I bathed him myself.  Brittany, my BFF for life, brings me Honey Nut Cheerios and they tell us what recovery room we are in.  I put Dane in his isolette and start to push him to our room.  Brittany finds me and starts busting out laughing and trying to hide me from the other nurses "you can't go by yourself, crazy!".  Oops.

*-*-*-*-*-*

I still cannot believe it went down like this.  Was it hard? yeah.  Was it doable? totally.  It was honestly easier than I thought it would be.  My first labor was a million times harder than I expected and my second was significantly easier than I expected.  It's all because of Charisse Campbell, our Bradley method instructor.  We were both SO prepared, and we knew relaxation was key.  I owe it all to her, Brittany and Marvin.  My husband was so sweet and supportive (even when I told him to shut the f up).  And, thanks to Annie Robert Hammons I have these great pictures.  Click below to see Annie's work (and Dane's birth story: the visual version). 

Dane's Birth

Dane's Birth Plan

I have an appointment with Dr. Brown on Thursday.  I'll be 30 weeks.  Time has FLOWN by this pregnancy.  All props for a fly-by pregnancy go to Elaina.  (It's hard to have time drag when you're trying to keep up with a 2.5 year old!!) 

Below is the birth plan I'm going to present to him on Thursday.  I'm so nervous!  I didn't do a birth plan with Elaina.  Birth plans are what crazy pregnant people do and I didn't want to be perceived as weird or crazy.  Time has passed and I've grown up a little and I don't care who thinks I'm crazy.  So far, he's let me do whatever I wish.  I mean, how many doctors let you eat jelly beans for your glucose test?  I'm hoping he receives the birth plan openly.  I will update on how it goes! 

Diana Vallette                                                          Patient of Dr. James Brown, Women & Children’s Hospital

We are confident that we are in excellent hands and appreciate efforts in helping us bring our baby into this world in a gentle, natural manner.  We fully understand that certain emergencies and/or other medical circumstances may not allow for our birth preferences listed below. 

LABOR

·        - No outside visitors during labor and delivery.

·        - I wish to labor in my own clothing.

·         -I would like intermittent fetal monitoring.

·         -I would like a saline/heparin lock if necessary.

·         -I would like the opportunity to move around, utilize my birth ball and utilize the shower/tub between intermittent monitoring. I would like to be free to walk/change positions as desired.

·         -I would like for the lights to be dim and for the room to be as quiet as possible during labor & delivery. I would really appreciate necessary conversation take place in between contractions.

·        - I would like to keep the vaginal exams to a minimum.

·        - I do not want to be offered an epidural or any sedatives/narcotics.

·        - I do not wish to have the amniotic membrane ruptured artificially.

DELIVERY

·        - I would like to deliver in the position that I feel comfortable (not limited to lithotomy position.)

·        - Even if I am fully dilated, and assuming the baby is in no distress, I would like to wait until I feel the urge to begin the pushing phase.

·         -Perineal massage and warm compresses are welcomed: no episiotomy please.

·         -I would appreciate guidance on when to push and when to stop pushing.

·         -I would like a local anesthetic if I require stitching.

POSTPARTUM

·        - I would like to have the baby placed on my chest (skin-to-skin) immediately after delivery.

·        - I would like to have the baby on my chest during any assessments/treatments if at all possible.

·        - I would like to wait until the cord stops pulsing before having my husband cut it.

·        - I would like to hold my baby and breastfeed while the placenta is delivered. I would like to avoid postpartum pitocin unless medically necessary (hemorrhage).

·         -I would like to delay the administration of erythromycin until after breastfeeding is established (a few hours). My records clearly indicate that I do not have gonorrhea. 

·        - I would like for the baby to receive Vitamin K shot.

·        - I do not want the baby to receive the Hep B vaccination.

·        - I do not want the baby to have any bottles, pacifiers or water (unless medically necessary).

·        - I would like to have my baby circumcised by Dr. Brown the day after delivery.

·        - The baby will remain with me (or I with him) at all times from the moment he is born until we are discharged from the hospital.  I would like the opportunity to have the pediatrician assess the baby in our room so that I may have the chance to speak with him/her. This is extremely important to me; I realize this may go against normal practice and I would really appreciate any and all support in this matter.

·        - I am experienced at breastfeeding, but would like to meet with a lactation consultant at her earliest convenience.

Hippie Mom

I've joked before that "if you're not at least 50% more of a hippie after becoming a mom, you're doing it wrong."  I was joking (kind of?) cause who am I to say that YOU are mothering wrongly?  I mean, me and my husband  critically analyze everyone's parenting style like the parenting professionals we are not.  We've probably talked about your parenting style behind your back.  It's a testament to how cool and fun our lives are "did you see how x handled that situation?".  We're definitely judgey parents, but we're judgey in secret (only with one another).  So, that makes us not annoying, right?

Marvin and I are more hippie than we were before children.  I guess?  We weren't real hippie (at all) to begin with, so it was an "improvement".  For all the non-parents wondering what in the heck I mean by "more hippie", I guess I just mean going against the norm.  Actually taking the time to research things like vaccines or cloth diapers or breastfeeding or the chemicals in every-flipping-thing.  Being a conscious parent (aka not just doing what "they" --the professionals-- tell you to do). Striving to give your child a natural, healthy start.  As an example, I mean those people who grew up being all "spare the rod, spoil the child" and, after having children themselves, are all "spanking is unnecessary" and they research gentler methods of discipline.  (Please don't think this is an attack on spanking;  I just used spanking as an example.  I'm not looking to debate discipline styles.  Do what works for you!)  Basically the test is: if your family doesn't think you're at least a LITTLE weird as a mother then you're probably not hippie-ish. If your family hasn't felt the need to have an intervention about how you're teaching your 2 month old to cry by picking them up or holding them all the time, then you're probably not weird like me.  And, that's ok!  I mean, Marvin and I will talk about you behind your back, but our lives are boring and that's all we've got.

In the spirit of weirdness, Marvin and I are taking a birthing class.  Which is weird  because we've already been through birthing once.  But, I want to do it naturally this time.  I want to trust my body to produce a baby.  The first go round I was SO nervous about all the what ifs that I mostly just listened to what my (wonderful) OB said.  I grew up with a Dad who would anonymously talk about his cases.  Knowing what an ectopic pregnancy is at age 10 is not normal practice, I don't think?  Anyway, couple that with parents who had a child born with a neural tube defect and you end up with an over-educated and scared little momma-to-be.

So, we're taking a Bradley Method class.  We're hoping it'll give us some tools to use during labor.  We're on class 3 (of 12) now and it's already been really beneficial.  Who knows, maybe Marvin won't be forced to fake sleep through this labor. Ha!  

Anyway, it's weird how labor and delivery is handled, right?  I don't know if it's just in Louisiana or what, but it's really started to annoy me.  I'm not judgey about birth (not even in private to my husband), handle your birth however in the heck you want!  But, I don't get why the natural approach is received with so much hesitation (if received at all).  I mean, I KIND OF get it.  I saw the malpractice stresses on my Dad and how they affected his life.  The fear of being sued pushes doctors to try to manipulate the experience.  I guess they think if they just cut you open and take the baby out, they can control how things go and reduce the likelihood of getting sued?  Doctors kind of have to handle care from a fear standpoint.  My Dad used to say his job was the best job in the world, he got to help bring life into the world.  But then, you have people suing you left and right and you are now fearful of your patients.  You basically handle their care covering your butt the whole time.  I mean, I get it!  Doctors have families and this is their job.  Who wants to go to work every day scared that someone will sue them?  It's not fun, I imagine. 

My doctor thinks I'm weird.  I mean, he has never told me that he thinks I'm crazy, but I know he does.  Some of the questions I ask him throw him for a loop, and that has to say a lot when he does this everyday and has, like, a billion patients.  I'm not scared to ask this man anything.  I mean, I took my glucose tolerance test with jelly beans (instead of the drink most people take).  He probably has a golden star on my chart that means "difficult patient".  I imagine most of his patients let him call the shots, and that's just not my style.  I am a questioner.  He doesn't have some super human quality because he is a medical professional.  To me, he is a man that is helping me along.  He isn't all knowing and he isn't always right.  I value his opinion, of course, or I wouldn't be seeing him.  My arrogance (I realize that it's arrogant; I just don't care) doesn't extend to every profession.  If I bring my car into a shop and they tell me the transmission is ruined, I'll just blindly believe them.  I don't know anything about cars.  If I go to see a lawyer and they tell me that I don't have a case, I'll just blindly believe them.  I don't know anything about law.  But, I know my stuff when it comes to medicine.  I'm not saying I'm all knowing about medicine.  That would be silly.  I have a degree in Journalism.  But, you know what?  I have a good amount of faith in myself when it comes to medical issues.  And I don't have a problem going against protocol or asking questions that rock the boat.  I mean, this is mine and my family's health we are talking about here.  I need to take responsibility in it.

Anyway, at my next appointment I'm going to throw all my labor wishes (which go against protocol) on my OB.  I'm hoping he'll receive them openly. I'll give details of my weird labor wishes and how he received them on my next post. He's taken everything else I've thrown at him in stride.  I know that most of his patients are "ok with planning things" (his words).  And, so, I know that I'm his pain in the butt patient.  I'm ok with that.  

Breastfeeding

During my pregnancy with Elaina, I heard about all the wonderful parts of breastfeeding.  I mean, I knew that "breast is best" before my pregnancy, but I learned WHY.  It helps you lose weight, they said.  It reduces the risk of SIDs, they told me.  Breastfed babies are less likely to be sick because they're receiving their mother's immunities.  It's free.  (I could go on...)  The more I learned, the more I was DETERMINED to breastfeed.

I was worried that I wouldn't be able to.  I had a breast augmentation about 5 months before learning I was pregnant with Elaina.  I researched and googled like a mad woman.  I read different stories about women who had undergone breast surgeries and their triumphs/failures with breastfeeding.  I asked Dr. Brown what he thought.  I called my plastic surgeon, Dr. Glass, to ask about her patients' experiences.  I asked questions on my Baby Center Birth Board (those ladies are IN-TENSE!).

I bought "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding" and read and re-read all the breastfeeding sections in my 8 (yes, 8) baby books. I have a confession, though.  I found "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding" extremely boring and I just didn't get the information I was looking for from it.  (That's basically considered blasphemy to my mommy-friends, but...... it's true.)  I got some good information from the 8 baby books, but I still didn't feel prepared.  So, I signed up for a Breastfeeding Class at Women & Children's.  THAT was what made me successful at breastfeeding.  Not the books, not the googling, THE CLASS made us successful.

The class was given by one of their Lactation Consultants (side note: this woman had like 4 kids and she was SO tiny and blonde and cute. UGH).  Anyway, the class cost $15 and was literally the best money I've ever spent in my "preparation" for motherhood.  Why was the class so helpful?  You know, I don't know.  I mean, one part stood out:  the lactation consultant held up little balls that represented the size of your baby's belly at different stages.  I was AMAZED at how freaking tiny the just-born baby's tummy was.  It was, like, as big as an almond.  Besides the stomach sizes, the class just told me the specifics of what I should and shouldn't worry about.  It told me what to expect and it MADE ME FEEL CONFIDENT.  Like, I knew I would be able to do it after the class.  They gave us each a sheet of paper.  The paper was a way to keep track of feedings the first few days.  You circled R or L (for right or left boob) and you would write down how long the baby fed for.  Then, when the baby had a dirty or wet diaper you would circle that on the paper, too.  The paper had how many wet/dirty diapers were needed for each day postpartum.  The lactation consultant said that if your baby was producing the right amount of dirty diapers you were golden and don't worry.  Wait....that's it?  You count diapers and if you have the right amount of wet and dirty you're ok?  I can DO THIS!  The lactation consultant also told us that someone would stop by and "help" if we needed  while we were in the hospital.

After I got the epidural with Elaina and I was able to talk freely, I asked the nurse if there was a lactation consultant who could come by when she was "out" to help me.  She said she'd make sure to let them know.  Elaina was born, the nurse took forever to clean her off, she put her on my chest and then in walked a lactation consultant.  She told everyone that we were about to try to feed Elaina and asked them to leave.  That made me instantly love her.  She put on these blue gloves and said she was going to "watch" me feed Elaina.  I was so nervous.  I plopped out my boob and she showed me a better way to hold her.  The way I was holding her was the way I had seen everyone hold their babies.  The way she taught me allowed me to hold her head AND my boob at the same time, so I had more control.  I had read and learned about the cheek tickle, so I tried it.  Elaina opened her mouth a few times and I gently nudged my nipple at her.  "You're not going to hurt her," the lactation consultant said.  "SHOVE it in her mouth."  So, I cheek-tickled and nudged my nipple at her a little harder.  Then something happened.....the lactation consultant grabbed my boob.  She didn't ask.  She just grabbed it and shoved it in Elaina's mouth.  I mean SHOVED.  (Thaaaaat's why she needed those blue gloves.)  I was amazed by how hard she was pushing my nipple into Elaina's mouth.  Elaina grabbed on and sucked a few times and the LC pointed out how her latch was wrong.  She showed me how she could tell that the latch was wrong.  She told me how to break the latch and had me try again.  I shoved my nipple back in her mouth, she latched on correctly and she sucked maybe 5 times and unlatched herself.  The lactation consultant told me to try again.  And, again I shoved myself in her mouth, she sucked a few times and unlatched herself.  I was worried.  Why wasn't she staying on?  We tried the other boob and the same thing happened a few times.  Elaina never sucked for more than 5 seconds before she would get off.  The lactation consultant said I was doing great.  She took off her gloves.  We're done?  I was scared.  Something was obviously wrong.  Why wasn't she staying on?  I asked the LC "so, that doesn't count as a feeding, though, right?".  She said what Elaina had just done was "great" and I should consider it a successful feeding.  What?  Really?  She reminded me about the stomach sizes and the fact that Elaina had just been through 24 hours of labor and had probably drank a lot of amniotic fluid so she wasn't particularly hungry.  She said those few "sucks" got the colostrum out which is all we were looking for at this point.  I should be proud and happy, she said.  Keep track of dirty diapers and we would do great.  Wow.

That was just what I needed.  From that point forward I never questioned myself.  Elaina was born at 2:30 and every two hours on the dot after that I would unswaddle her to wake her up and attempt to feed her.  She never sucked more than 10 times before unlatching herself.  Sometimes unswaddling her didn't work and I had to pretend to change her diaper.  Sometimes changing her diaper didn't even help and I would dribble colostrum on her lips.  Sometimes nothing worked and she would just sleep.  But, I was ok with that because I offered every 2 hours like clock work.  

Around 9:00 we were ready to go to bed.  The lights in the room were turned off, but I left the TV on for light so I could see Elaina was breathing when I checked on her approximately every 10 seconds.  Throughout the night, I woke her up (or tried to) every 2 hours to get her to feed.  She didn't wake up at nighttime, though.  That chick was tired!  She was having the right amount of dirty diapers, though, and I was offering so I knew we were golden!  

The nurse would come in every 3ish hours and ask "how are y'all doing? do y'all need anything? did she eat?".  I didn't sleep that night so her constant interruptions didn't bother me.  I was too busy doing breathing checks.  I wasn't tired.  It was weird because the night before I was in labor so I didn't sleep then either.  My last time sleeping was during Dr. Phil.  That was about 48 hours ago?  I would always tell her we were fine and didn't need anything and I would proudly inform her that Elaina did NOT eat.  I was kind of daring her to question me.  Try to tell me she needs formula.  TRY!  She never did.  I guess I looked pretty confident when I would say "no, she didn't eat.  I offered, but she wasn't interested.  We're ok."  At around 12:14 (I know because I watched the clock like a crazy person) the nurse came in and told me the pediatrician was here to check on the babies.  She said she was going to take Elaina to the nursery and asked me if I wanted her to keep her in the nursery or bring her back.  I had to try HARD not to LOL in her face.  "Ummm...no.  Bring her back.  Definitely bring her back."  I am way too crazy to allow my child to chill in the nursery.  At approximately 12:20 (6 minutes later) I told Marvin to wake up and go to the nursery and ask what was taking so long.  He came back a few minutes later and told me that she was in the nursery and they said they were almost done.  At approximately 12:25 I got up and went to the nursery.  I was mad.  She was gone for eleven minutes now.  How long does the doctor need?  Give me my baby back.  The nurse saw me and told me they were bringing her back now.  They brought her back three minutes later.  

The next day Dr. Brown came and told me I could go or I could stay another day.  He said it was up to me.  Ummmm...DUH! I want to go home where visitors can't just pop in and nurses can't hold my baby hostage for eleven minutes.  (I know that I'm crazy; I don't care.)

We went home and at about three days postpartum my milk came in.   It didn't hurt and I wasn't engorged.  I only noticed because I was in the bathroom, leaning over to get something in the cabinet and I was soaking wet.  It took a while for me to figure out where the "water" was coming from.  Breastfeeding went wonderfully after that, I only had one time that I got nervous.  Elaina was having the right amount of poop diapers, but no pee diapers!  I called the Lactation Consultant.  Turns out that Elaina WAS peeing (toilet paper in the diaper confirmed this), but newborn baby pee is clear and I was changing her before every feeding (every 2 hours) so her diapers never "felt" wet.  

I joined La Leche League and all the moms sat in a circle and talked breastfeeding.  Throughout the meeting, moms whipped out their boobs and fed their babies without blinking an eye.  I liked this.  I fed Elaina in public if we were out and she was hungry.  You know those people who are nervous and embarrassed to feed in public?  I wasn't one of them.  I was a master public feeder.  You never saw any skin.  I used to daydream that someone would come up to me and make a comment about my feeding in public.  I would prepare what I would say.  I had a whole speech ready to go if anyone wanted to try me.  No one ever seemed to mind, though.  Most people ignored me completely.  A few people gave me "been there" smiles.  All went smoothly.  

Breastfeeding was great.  I loved it.  Me and Elaina were good at it.  Wanna know my favorite part about breastdfeeding?  When someone would ask to hold Elaina and I didn't want them to (read: ANYONE other than me) I would lie and say she needed to eat.  No one else could feed her, and by the time I was "done" they would forget, or she'd be asleep (and my baby was not passed around while sleeping....I didn't want to disturb her.  DUH!) Ha ha. Crazy mom win!!  

What was your favorite part of breastfeeding? What did you find challenging?  How did you feel about breastfeeding in public? Did you ever have an "issue" with onlookers being rude?