Did you watch it yet? No? Yes?

Ok, now that you’ve watched it, what was your reaction? Be honest.

I’ve trolled through a bunch of comments on this video and I have my own reactions, mostly in the good category actually. But before going to my personal reactions, I have a few thoughts… I sometimes wonder what c-sectioned moms think about the plethora of natural birth stuff that I post links to. I wonder if they think that I’m not supportive of them or even look down on them. As if there is some sort of birth hierarchy where natural, unmediated birth is the pinnacle of existence and sectioners are the lowly pawns down at the bottom. That couldn’t be farther from the truth! (do you ever look at a phrase and wonder what that even means, just did now making sure I was using it correctly…lol)

Sometimes we look at birth as if it is Plan A, Plan B, Plan C when in reality, the birth you end up with was the plan for you all along, the ONLY plan for you. Now, of course, I need to qualify that with sometimes things don’t go as they COULD have gone. That is an entirely different subject altogether. One which I’m not going to address now. I think for the most part, women want to look back and think that it played out the way it was supposed to play out. We all want our birth experiences to be positive or at least remember positive moments.

Now… My gut  reaction to the video was “wow, finally a medical staff that gets it.” I think that c-section looked more memorable than some vaginal births that I’ve seen/heard of. They made that moment special for that family and isn’t that what it’s all about? Shouldn’t we all be treated with that level of respect and specialness? They get that immediate skin to skin is soooo very important for moms and their babies. The mom actually had some level of control; she wasn’t tied down to the operating table. She could feel free to cuddle, coo, count toes and nurse her baby immediately if she wanted. In most hospitals the baby is taken away to be measured, weighed, look over, etc, then cleaned up and swaddled and usually mom just gets to give the baby a little kiss before it’s taken to the nursery for observation (this is true for c-sections and very many vaginal births). I think that this should be offered to families in every hospital. No, let me rephrase that… I think that hospitals should be treating every family how that family was treated, with respect for the tiny life that is making it’s way into the world whether it be a normal, medicated or c-section birth. This is a sacred event. Literally once in a lifetime. No family wants to be treated as if they are just another notch in the belt of how many babies this practitioner has delivered. It’s like your wedding day; it’s just that special. Maybe even more special! No one would dare go to a reception hall or have a caterer that treated them poorly and without respect. Why do we expect this with birth?

I do have some downsides though. I think the title “natural c-section” is misleading. The surgery is pretty much exactly the same. That hasn’t changed. I think they could be more creative with the title. How about “family focused C-section” or “Gentle C-section” but calling it natural is misleading to women because it is only SIMULATING what a natural birth would be like. There’s nothing natural about it. I also would worry that it would dissuade many would be VBAC moms from attempting a vaginal birth. Why go the route of an actual vaginal birth when I can have one simulated? Well, there are many many many reasons why it’s a good idea to go after the VBAC. And better women than me have posted many times about these, so do your own research and make your own decisions!

I think EVERY mom deserves an awesome birth experience! I hope you go after yours!

This is the story of my bumpy introduction to motherhood via my firstborn. Lillie was born on Sunday at 9:40 pm May 13, 2007. Here are details surrounding her entrance earth side as I remember and process it.

About a week before Lillie was born I hit a case of the serious nesting urge. I’m not talking, “oh, look that looks dirty and needs to be cleaned.” I’m talking I would be just wiping something down normally and an hour later find myself on all fours scrubbing God only knows what off the floor. It was a compulsion and I didn’t even realize I was doing it. It all started with the bathroom closet. I was getting something out of there that I needed and several hours later I had cleaned, organized and polished it. Oh-boy, that means baby is coming soon, right? Well, that continued every day for a week until she was born. So it was not the “24 hour” thing that most moms experience. It continued until there was not a speck more I could possibly clean. I even took the glass shades off the sconces in our bedroom and Windex’ed those… My house has never been so clean! And I’m sure never will be again!

Lillie’s “due date” was actually May 9th and although I knew most first time births were overdue, I really had my heart set on her due date for some reason. I was super excited the day of the 9th, thinking “this could be it!” It came and went. The following day I was pretty pissed and avoided contact with most people. The day after that I had resolved to let it go and was looking forward to the weekend, hoping she would be born then.

Saturday the 12th came and we were resolved that she would be born that weekend because at my last appointment midweek they said if I made it to my next appointment, I would be set up for an induction. (I was 2 centimeters and almost totally effaced) I was resolved to not endure an induction, she was coming naturally. Ever since I was a young girl I had always wanted to do birth naturally, it just seemed the right course for me and I educated myself about how to avoid many of the pitfalls that lead to interventions. I thought I was pretty well informed at the time. So we set up a game plan for the day trying just about everything we could to bring on labor. Had spicy chicken wings the night before. And lots of other things, use your own imagination…  About midday we went for a very brisk walk around the neighborhood. Have you ever seen a 9+ month momma walk briskly, yeah, it looks ridiculous! And I was having contractions and would need to slow down several times. I remember getting mad at Eric because he kept walking ahead of me and wasn’t staying by my side. The contractions weren’t severe but definitely enough to slow me down to a creeping walk.

When we got home they pretty much stopped and I was really frustrated. We had lunch which was to be my last full meal. We were totally worn out from the day. That evening neither of us was very hungry and opted to have popcorn for dinner and watch some TV. Around 7:30 pm my contractions started to pick up again and this time they felt much stronger than Braxton-Hicks. In fact, it was uncomfortable to be sitting, so I walked around our living room in circles (there are archways between the 2 living rooms and hallway). Our floor wasn’t finished at the time and I got a splinter. Ouch! So now my foot hurt while walking around. Great! I tried sitting on my balance/yoga ball but it was super uncomfortable when the contraction hit. I kept a written log of the contractions; they were coming every 5-10 minutes.

A little after 11 pm my contractions had gotten a bit stronger and we were super excited! So excited that I forgot that I really wanted to labor at home. Stupidly excited that maybe I was really much farther along than I thought. Maybe we should go to the hospital, just to check. Is this really labor? Maybe I’m not really in labor. Maybe we should just go and get checked to see how far along I am and then go home. Yes, they’ll probably just send me home, I’m sure it’ll be ok to go. We arrived at the hospital a little after 11:30 pm; we only live a few minutes away. I wish we hadn’t gone in so early.

Checked into the triage and they hooked me up to the monitor. The triage was busy; all four rooms had someone in them. My contractions look impressive next to the other rooms (you can see all four rooms on the TV monitor-this link is not me, just an example). While mine looked like Hawaii waves, cresting high at regular intervals, another room just looked like a lake barely lapping, another room looked active and then shuts down suddenly. I later find out she was laughing and talking to her hubby one minute and the next on a gurney and rushed into a C-section at only 36 weeks. Our babies were destined to be NICU pals. But that’s skipping ahead too far.

They check my cervix and I am only 3 centimeters! UGH! I thought they would send me home but because I was already past my due date and they wanted to “monitor me” they opted to keep me in the triage. Not knowing any better we were actually really excited about it and chose to walk around the floor a bit before settling into a nap on the uncomfortable bed and pull-out chair. I wish we had just gone home instead, if only I knew then what I knew now…

Around 2 am we settled down and I fell asleep pretty quickly, exhausted from the day. Eric barely slept, the chair was really uncomfortable and the nurse came and went which woke him up. I was hooked up to the monitor and they had asked him if I was ok, and how was I sleeping through this? Honestly, the contractions weren’t bad at all and I was really tired. Around 4 am I awoke just as I had the sensation of my water breaking on its own. We called in the nurse. She wasn’t pleased that the amniotic fluid seemed to have meconium in it (baby’s first poop). This can POSSIBLY signal that the baby is in distress or it can also mean absolutely nothing since I was several days past my due date, this sometimes happens. But Lillie’s heart rate was seemingly fine on the monitor. Some of my contractions were coupling. That means that instead of the normal peak and valley, it peaks and then starts to valley and then peaks again and can last almost twice as long as a normal contraction. At the time, these weren’t bothering me yet.

Since my water had broken I was now admitted into the hospital for keeps around 4:20 am. I walked to my labor/delivery room on my own two feet and they had checked me before I left the room and I was at 4 cm now. The contractions had definitely gotten MUCH stronger after my water had broken. Or at least they felt stronger. You lose that water cushioning and although the pain is more intense it doesn’t mean that the contractions are actually getting stronger, they just hurt more. (one HUGE reason not to have your waters prematurely ruptured to “get this show on the road” doesn’t really make your labor any faster anyways).

My first L&D nurse was the sweetest thing! About our age and totally into the natural birth scene. She wanted to work at an actual birthing center. She knew when to offer help and when to just leave us be. She showed us around the place and let Eric know where he could get snacks. Snacks!!! I was sooooooooo hungry! Starving in fact! Hadn’t eaten since lunchtime and now it was nearly breakfast time the next day. I sweetly asked if I could have some of the peanut butter crackers to tide me over. She looked at me with a pained expression and said, “I’m so sorry, but no, hospital policy once you are admitted.” GROAN! I had actually packed some snacks for myself but was too much of a chicken to get them out and munch, I wish I had! I could have gnawed my arm off at that point. She offered some juice or ice chips. I settled for some much too sweet apple juice that turned my stomach. I had also let them do the Hep-lock (needle access for IV fluids or medication) which I later regretted also.

The contractions were starting to get a bit closer and definitely more sharp than earlier in the night. I decided to hop in the shower and maybe stay for a bit, labor in there. It was in the shower that I found my labor groove. The water was so soothing hitting my back and I felt confined and safe in that nice small space shut off from the outside world. I felt like I can do this, this will happen naturally, just the way I want it to happen. I was in a really good frame of mind and totally happy laboring in the shower all by myself. I’m not sure how long I was in there but the nursing shift change had occurred and our awesome angel nurse had to say good-bye. Still makes me sad thinking about losing her.

And now everything changes.

Our next L&D nurse came into the room. I was unaware. Eric came into the bathroom and informed me that the nurse would like to meet me and check on the baby. I said she was welcome to come into the bathroom to do so. I go back to laboring. He comes in again and repeats what he’s been told. I say the same thing back. I’m not sure how many times this went on but eventually my groove/trance whatever you want to call it was broken. Now I don’t blame him, how was he to know? Had the nurse heeded my wishes things might have been totally different. Now I was super annoyed. Once you get out of your labor groove it’s nearly impossible to get it back. And I never really did.

I dried myself off and got “dressed” if you can call the skimpy hospital garb clothing (btw-you can wear your own clothing if you’d rather). I came out to the bed and sat on the edge preparing for my next contraction which seemed world’s different than when I was in the shower just a moment ago. I’m starting to work through this new whopper contraction and this new nurse, I’ll call her Nurse Whyamiinthisprofession or Whiny for short proceeds to give me a several minute lecture holding and waving my birth plan in the air about how women that come in with birth plans like this never end up with what they want and end up with all sorts of interventions and c-sections, blah, blah, blah… Did I mention I was in the middle of a contraction? How rude comes to mind. Now I was far too polite as that is part of my personality and looking back I should have verbally torn her head off and presented it to her but I am much too nice for that. How I wish I would have asked the nurse manager on duty for a different nurse! It was like a continual assault on my resolve. She made comments to others just outside my door (as if I can’t hear you, hello?) “I don’t know why she just doesn’t get some drugs.” She had no bedside manor whatsoever. At one point the fetal monitor had slipped when I stood up for the contraction and it wasn’t reading Lillie’s heartbeat, so rather than kindly waiting for the contraction to end and then readjusting it-she grabbed that thing and forced it into my stomach so hard I grabbed her arm and forcefully told her that she was hurting me. Now I’m in the middle of a contraction and she is hurting me worse than the actual contraction! She did not back down and told me she “had” to do this. It was heinous! No one should do that to another human being. She could have waited until the contraction was over as Lillie’s heart rate was fine.

As a side note both my mother and mother-in-law had arrived at some point after I got out of the shower. My m-i-l ended up serving as my impromptu doula and she was fantastic! We got into a rhythm of counting to about 30 so I knew when the contraction would get to the sloping side and I knew I could make it through. She rubbed my back and was just generally coaching me and was so soothing, I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I did without her! My mom, I think, overcome with seeing her own daughter in pain was on the other side of the room near the couch swaying and silently crying. At one point I told her that she needed to sit down as it was getting distracting and hard to concentrate, because then I was concerned with her being upset.

At this point I had had enough of Nurse Whiny and was looking for an escape so I said that I wanted to go into the Jacuzzi. This could have been a great experience but once again Nurse Whiny to the rescue. She prattled on and on about her labors and how she had one natural and one with drugs and she didn’t see the big deal about going natural, blah, blah, blah. What the heck do you care so much, it’s MY experience! It’s MY call if I want drugs or not! It’s MY body and it’s MY baby (well, technically OUR baby including Eric). She said her nurse filled her tub up too cold and she didn’t like the tub at all. Well, she filled up my tub so hot that I literally couldn’t step into it. Ummm, hello, I’m pregnant! After she left we let out some water and made it cooler. However we didn’t make it cool enough and I started overheating. This was so disappointing because it really was nicer laboring in the tub. However because I had the Hep-lock in I had to keep that arm out of the water at all times which was really annoying and hard to do. We tried to keep making the water cooler and cooler but eventually I started to feel really sick and vomit so I got out and they wheeled me back to my room. Again at the mercy of Nurse Whiny. At some point they hooked me up to IV fluids. She also attached the continuous external fetal monitor to me, “well, if you’re going to sit here then I’m hooking you up” something I didn’t want and was against my birth plan. I was effectively tied to the bed. My movement was hindered by the continuously slipping monitor and I was constantly interrupted by the nurse readjusting it. She pretty much left me no choice but to wear it.

By this point in the story I was somewhere around 6 cm and about 14/15 or so hours into labor with contractions every 3-5 minutes depending on if it was a coupling contraction or not. A coupling contraction would last as long as 1 ½ to 1 ¾ minutes in length and a normal contraction would last about a minute. I had a lot of back labor. I really wanted to do the Bradley Method as I had planned and practiced but the pain was so much more intense when I would lay down as prescribed in the method. I just couldn’t do the Bradley Method although it works great for many mothers. I was really disappointed that it didn’t work, but I found other ways of coping. My labor was going about a centimeter every 2-3 hours. I was now sitting on the side of the bed with my feet on Eric’s feet and my head resting on his shoulder between contractions (I was so tired I would doze off for a minute or so-for some reason this scared me, I don’t know why, but I later read that this is totally normal, wish I had known this.) As the contraction would build, I would stand up on his feet while he held my hands and my m-i-l would be behind me massaging my back and counting. This went on for several hours. At some point my dad came walking into the room (I’m totally not decent) and I roared, “Get out!” Wish I would have had the same resolve for some of the medical staff.

Another side note-the anesthesiologist introduced himself several hours earlier and, of course, let me know if I wanted drugs that he would be administering them. This made me super annoyed because my birth plan SPECIFICALLY stated to please not offer me drugs, I know they are available and will or will not ask based on my wishes. If it had happened just that one time, I could have just let it go, but no that’s not what happened. About every 15-30 minutes he would peak his head in the door and ask if I was ready yet to get an epidural!!! Seriously!? Every time he was met with an overly polite, no thank-you. What I should have done was ask him to kindly NOT come back into my room.

So what happens when you have a very rude nurse, an anesthesiologist looking to make his next $1500 and one very tired, worn-down, exasperated mommy? Well, about 18 hours into my labor they had checked me again and for the second time I was still at 7 centimeters for the past 3 hours. I was checked by the resident and I swear to this day that I was really at 8 and in transition because the contractions had changed in nature and were far more intense then when they had checked me 3 hours before. I was feeling very defeated. I knew that the hospital staff had no faith in me to continue to progress or to do this naturally. The anesthesiologist came in one more time and said that a large trauma was coming in via helicopter and he didn’t know when or if he would be back and if I wanted to get an epidural the time was now, then he walked out. I calculated in my head that I had maybe another 6+ hours of labor to go before pushing-which I knew may or may not be accurate, things don’t always go like that. I was exhausted and was worried that if I didn’t get the epidural that I may end up with a c-section (my worst fear) thinking that I wouldn’t have enough energy left to push her out. I said, fine, go get him, I’ll have the epidural. Poor Eric, he immediately burst into tears! He was a total rock up until that point but I didn’t think he could take seeing me like this for another who knows how many hours.

It’s funny what happens when you give up or lose focus. I thought the contractions were pretty bad until I said I wanted drugs. Then they went through the roof! He couldn’t come quick enough to set the darn thing up. Around 5:30/6 pm Sunday, 18 hours into labor I got an epidural. Everyone kept saying you’re making the right decision, this will be good, maybe your body will relax and open up faster. The anesthesiologist kept saying, “oh, I’ve never seen a first time mom not get an epidural, everyone gets an epidural.” Yeah, hmmmm, I wonder why? Could it be that you’ve completely worn down all my resolve? I was screaming on the inside, “No! This isn’t what I want! Shut-up, just stop talking to me; I don’t want to hear you!” I wanted to give him a swift kick in the baby-maker, if you know what I mean and I’m not a mean, violent person. It took around 3 or 4 contractions until it was actually totally numb. And when I say numb, I mean, I couldn’t feel ANYTHING below my rib cage. It’s like I only existed from my rib cage to my head. I was deafeningly numb. I didn’t like it. It felt like the lower half of me was asleep. I felt trapped in my body and trapped on the bed. I felt like a tomb. They gave me an oxygen face mask. I felt like an invalid. I felt like now I was completely on display for any and all passerby. I felt like I had no control, like it had been taken away from me. I didn’t even feel human anymore; now I was just some numbers and waves on a monitor. I had gone from being a three dimensional person with thoughts, feelings and opinions to a two dimensional line drawing on a TV screen.

What happened next is why I rally for woman to know what they are getting into before getting an epidural. The anesthesiologist had left in a rush (remember the multiple person trauma was coming in) and things were starting to settle down, I was feeling more and more numb. Then all of a sudden something felt horribly wrong. I felt like I was sinking inside myself. I thought that this must be what dying feels like and I remember just not caring. I didn’t care. The staff was rushing around me trying to fix me, shooting medicine into my IV. I felt like I was in slow motion while everyone around me was in fast forward. My heart rate had started to tank and for someone that already has low blood pressure to begin with, this is bad, very bad. Lillie’s pressure was also tanking. Thankfully I responded to the medicine quickly and my heart rate normalized. Otherwise I’m sure I would have had an immediate C-section and/or be dead. Two years later I mentioned this to a nurse at my first visit when I was pregnant with Eve and she said, “oh, that’s totally normal.” What? Excuse me? I just stared at her. It’s not totally normal to nearly die while giving birth, or at least it shouldn’t be. How can you even say that to me?

So now I’m back with the land of the living, but my labor completely stopped for about the next 15 minutes. Great. They got the internal fetal monitor up and running and low and behold I was 8 centimeters… Hmmmm… Did I mention you have to get a catheter when you get an epidural? Yeah, not pleasant. I got in a comfortable position, as comfortable as you can sitting almost completely straight up and in about two seconds fell into a very deep sleep. Eric fell asleep too. I slept soundly for about an hour. They tell me that I snored, thanks, just what I wanted to hear… I woke up with the oxygen mask on and in a huge puddle of drool, lovely. Birth is so not glamorous. Someone asked if the dads could come in and say hi and give me a kiss. I consented. But instead of that happening I ended up with both dads, my aunt, cousin, brother and brother-in-law (at some point my sister-in-law had joined my labor party) and of course both mothers, all camped out in my room and chattering away. Now, I’m still totally exhausted, I look like hell and I can barely formulate a coherent sentence. And now I have to entertain guests! Groan. Finally after an hour or so I had to get checked again or there was some reason everyone had to leave the room. Thank God. I asked that no one come back in except for the moms and sister-in-law.

So another couple hours goes by and I’m still at 8 centimeters and you know what they want to start next, right? Pitocin. I wait another hour and then let them start a drip. It didn’t do anything. My body progressed at 1 centimeter every 3 hours just like it had my whole labor. The only thing I think it did was put Lillie into more distress then she already had been under. Pitocin contractions are harder on the baby and momma.

Nurse Whiny had to leave and I can’t say that I missed her. She was so disappointed that she didn’t get to see the baby be born. I was happy that she didn’t get to see Lillie, she didn’t deserve it. I try not to ever hate people, but I’d have to be honest and say that I hated her. The next nurse came in and she was totally unmemorable. Actually because Nurse Whiny was so constantly on top of me and constantly in my room, it was weird to have a nurse that just disappeared for great lengths of time. I was slightly worried, why is she gone all the time? Am I ok? Lol…

Side note about my OB-he had come and checked in on me towards the later part of my labor. Doctors don’t really stand by your side and cheer you on or really spend any great amount of time with you. I didn’t expect him to; I knew that is the way it would be. He was very professional and compassionate. When there was a decision to be made, we told me I was in charge and that it was my call. He was the one that caught my tanking blood pressure and seemed equally annoyed with the anesthesiologist who apparently had my dosage up too high from what I can gather. He was growing concerned however that my water had broken awhile ago and was eager to get the baby out by 10 pm that evening.

Finally around 8:30 pm I was checked and had reached 10 centimeters! My OB said we could try a few practice pushes. I could feel that he wasn’t convinced I was going to get this baby out. I can’t really say that I blame him, I was exhausted and she was only at -1 station which means I had to push her 5 centimeters until she would be crowning. But he didn’t know my resolve to not have a c-section! The first couple pushes however changed his mind pretty quickly. He asked if he could turn my epidural down so I could feel the contractions and push better. Not understanding that it takes at least two hours for an epidural to totally wear off, I said I wasn’t sure how much pain I could tolerate at this point and could you please turn it down some but not the whole way off? He turned it down a bit and after awhile I could just barely feel when the contractions would start in the top of my belly. I was ready to go and get her out, I pushed my heart out. When she reached a certain point, he attached the vacuum suction to help her keep from sucking back up with the end of the push. At one point he handed the vac to the resident and she was leaning back with all her body weight. It was very disconcerting. But this is a learning hospital. As I got closer and closer there seemed to be more and more staff in my room. I felt like a side show at the circus. I knew they had called the NICU staff but there was in excess of 5-10 extra staff there just watching. Hello! I’m not here for your entertainment!

My OB was actually a really good cheer leader when it came to helping me push. At one point he was practically yelling at me and later apologized for it, but I wasn’t offended at all, his zeal helped me get her out even though I was so tired. At one point one of the nurses declared that she had hair and that gave me a whole new surge of energy. “She has hair!” I said. Pushing out a baby has got to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. After just over an hour of pushing Lillie was born at 9:40 pm on Mother’s Day. When her head slipped out, the cord was wrapped around her neck twice. My OB quickly lifted them over her head and her body came tumbling out. He cut the cord right away (something I now know is not the best thing for a baby, especially one in distress, better to wait until the cord stops pulsating) and took her right over to the warming table. The nurses suctioned the heck out of her before she woke up and at one point it looked like that they were going to intubate her. She finally started screaming. But not that cute little newborn cry, this was a full blown scream! She was REALLY loud. They cleaned her up a bit, weighed her, measured her and swaddled her. Then they brought her over for me to give her a kiss, we had a “moment” where we looked at each other and it was like she knew that I was her mom and we connected for just a moment and then she went straight to the NICU. Eric and the moms followed and watched over her while I was stuck behind in my room. I had to be stitched up and cleaned up and the epidural had to wear off. It felt like within just a few minutes everyone was gone. Family went home, the nurses went onto other tasks. It was just me alone in my room. I was shaking. Not because I was cold but because the epidural was wearing off and that’s how my body responded with uncontrollable shaking. I felt totally alone.

All this time I hadn’t eaten since Saturday afternoon. They had ordered me dinner knowing that the kitchen would be closed when Lillie was finally born so my dinner was sitting there, cold. It didn’t matter, I couldn’t eat it. I ate a few Saltines. That was all I could muster.

Sometime before midnight they wheeled me over to the rooms by the NICU and set me up in a room there rather than the Mother/Baby Center as it was closer to Lillie. Eric wheeled me into the NICU to visit with Lillie. I was so weak I couldn’t stand long to look at her in her incubator. But I did get to hold her for a little while sitting. I’m pretty sure I cried. It was really hard to see her with all the wires and lines they had hooked up to her. She didn’t need a feeding tube or respirator, they were monitoring her heart rate, but there were at least two different lines hooked up to her little body. She had an IV. We said good night to her and went back to my new room. I had to pump and had no idea what I was doing. I sent Eric home to sleep that night. I knew he needed a break from the hospital and I knew that his brother and brother’s wife would take care of him.

As a nice little surprise, our first awesome nurse was my nurse that evening. She came in to help me get set up and give me my pain meds and vitamins. She was chatting with the aid as I was taking my pills. The aid looked over and said, “I think she’s choking.” I was choking, but not on the pills as you would think, but I was choking on the water. From having the oxygen mask on for so long it had totally dried out my throat and I was literally choking, not even making a sound. The nurse grabbed me and started doing the Heimlich maneuver. Thoughts were going through my head, “This is so not fair, I’m going to die and my baby is in the NICU and my husband is at home.” I’m so glad that he actually wasn’t there; I think he would have lost his mind. The Heimlich worked and I coughed and coughed until I was finally clear. After that I had them put all my pills in applesauce rather than taking them with water. I went to bed around 1 in the morning.

Everyone always says, oh how good it is that there are all those staff so that you can get some rest. Ummm, yeah, not so much! They wake you up in the middle of the night to take your blood pressure and pain assessment. I woke up in the morning on my own about 6 am and set up to pump for Lillie’s breakfast. Then I had a tirade of staff come through my room over the next 2-3 hours. The OB on rotation came through, my OB came through, several nurses, the birth registrar, the dining staff to set up the next several meals, my actual breakfast, the lady that does the hospital birth pictures and finally the cleaning lady. By the time everyone had come through and I had eaten my breakfast it was already 9 am and I hadn’t gotten to see Lillie yet! And it was time to pump again. I pumped hoping that I could take it over to her and wheel myself in but I was so exhausted I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. I fell asleep until 11 am. Eric, his brother and my sister-in-law came in shortly after. We went to go see her but were turned away because they were doing some sort of test on her. Defeated we went back to the room, watched TV and napped.

You know in war movies when there is a battle going on and a bomb is dropped and all the hero sees is the chaos going on around him, there is no sound but that inner ear ping? That’s kinda what the day after was like. A bomb going off. We were totally shell shocked. One of the NICU nurses came into my room that morning and told me that Lillie failed her hearing test in one ear, but not to worry because usually that will pass in a few months. OMG, my baby is deaf in one ear? How do I even begin to process this? Much later in the day she came back and told us that the battery was actually dead and that her hearing was indeed fine. Small sigh of relief. Our pastor stopped by at one point and was so happy and eager and had no idea what had just happened to us, “So, how was it?” Grinning from ear to ear. All I could muster was, “It’s not like on A Baby Story.” We took him to see her, but I think there was a nurse change happening or something and we couldn’t see her again. When I finally did get back there the nurse says, “I was wondering when you were going to come see her.” Doh! And then, “Oh, I can’t let you hold her.” Huh? Are you serious? “She just really needs to rest.” What about my needs?

I didn’t get to hold her again until Monday evening when there was a new nurse on duty. I didn’t get to try to nurse her until she was two days old on Tuesday. Thankfully I had an actual lactation consultant helping me. It took a little while but she latched on. All this time she had been given bottles of my expressed milk which she downed like crazy. Then they would give her a bottle of formula in case she was still hungry but she would let that dribble out of her mouth, she did not like the taste of it at all. So she had gotten used to the plastic feel of the bottle which made breastfeeding her a battle ground when we had finally taken her home. But while we were in the hospital she was able to latch on and nurse for 20-40 minutes when I was actually able to get in there in time before they had bottle fed her.

Monday evening Eric stayed the night. My room had two beds, so we each had a bed rather than the convert-a-chair that is in the Mother/Baby center. I was really uncomfortable that evening. My legs had swelled up to almost unrecognizable proportions. My ankles and feet were the same size as my thighs. I think it was from the many hours of IV fluids I had received. At one point in the night I had called the nurse and told her I was having a hard time just breathing. I think my body was having a hard time getting rid of all the extra fluid and the anxiety of the day wasn’t helping either. She hooked me up to a monitor just in case and propped my bed up better so that I could breathe easier.

I was such a mess! I didn’t finally get to take a shower until Tuesday morning-2 days after Lillie was born. I actually put on my own clothes which instantly made me feel more human again rather than wearing the hospital scrubs. I styled my hair and put on a little make-up. Finally feeling somewhat like me again. One of the nurses asked me if I had someone come in and do my hair! Bonus points for you lovely nurse!

That evening we packed up our things, we had stayed our 48 hours and it was time to leave-without Lillie. She had to stay one more day in the NICU even though she had been moved to a basic open air incubator and was seemingly doing fine. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry when we got home, but it felt so empty coming home with all our things and without our baby. Our dog greeted us at the door in a quiet sort of way, sort of like he knew what was happening.

Wednesday morning we got up and headed to the hospital with my mother-in-law in tow. We visited Lillie in the NICU and waited to hear when she would be released. Of course the NICU attending was doing his rounds starting at the baby just to Lillie’s right and working his way clockwise making Lillie last on the list. Groan!! We visited for awhile and went and got some lunch, it was a loooong wait. By the time we came back, he was almost up to Lillie. I think one of the nurses alerted him that we were waiting to take her home so he skipped over some of the other babies and came to us. Basically he gave her a clean bill of health and signed her release papers. She was finally ours! We dressed her in her going home outfit which was pink with bears on it. We were so relieved and I carried her out of the NICU and to our waiting car. I think I got a few dirty looks from passerby because I was actually carrying her in my arms rather than the car seat. Whatever! She was finally mine!

The rest of the day went a little rough. We weren’t used to having her yet 24-7 and had to jump in with both feet. The nurses told me that she had quite a temper and was a PURPLE crier, yeah, for sure! She was very impatient when it came time for feeding. I had no warning when she was hungry. She would go from completely dead asleep to instantly screaming her head off with nothing in between. Sometimes she would scream in her sleep. It was very jarring and we felt constantly on edge not knowing when she would be screaming next. I ended up pumping and giving her a few bottles because she had become used to that and she began to fight bloody murder nursing at the breast. But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. I had Eric buy me a nipple shield thinking that she might like the plastic feel of that as it was similar to the bottle. She did initially but since nursing is slower than bottle feeding, she quickly got impatient with that as well. Back to screaming at the top of her lungs! So I took a syringe of milk and squirted a bit in her mouth and then some in the nipple shield and it worked like a charm! By the time she had consumed the little I squirted, my own milk had let down and she was finally able to nurse. I did this a few times initially and then she settled into just using the nipple shield. It would be about 5 weeks until I really felt comfortable and like we had a normal breastfeeding relationship established. She wouldn’t nurse, however, without the nipple shield in place. We ended up using the it until she was about 4 months old and I just got sick of using it one day and stopped. She didn’t seem to mind; I only used it at night for another week or two and then stopped using it altogether. She nursed a total of 16 months and then I weaned her, not because I wanted to but because we wanted to give her a sibling and I couldn’t seem to get pregnant while nursing.

In the week after we had brought her home there were several times that she would cluster feed. These would last anywhere from 4-6 hours and she would literally go from side to side to side just constantly nursing. When I would tell people this, most would look at me in horror, but I was grateful for it! We had absolutely no chance to really bond in the hospital. Our visits were brief and despite the NICU’s attempts to give you a little privacy behind a screen, you were still in a big room with 20 some babies and 5-10 staff and other families visiting their babies. It’s just not conducive to getting to know your little one very well. Plus, she had wires attached to her and you just felt like she didn’t really belong to you yet. So her cluster feeding was a chance for just the two of us to spend uninterrupted time together. It was our bonding time. A few days later we had to pick something up at the NICU and I was showing her off to the staff and proudly relaying her eating habits. One of the nurses said, “Oh, she’s just using you as a pacifier.” Beg your pardon? “Just give her a pacifier.” Hmmm… And we wonder why breastfeeding relationships end before they begin? Her pediatrician was just about as helpful. “You are the mommy and are in charge and you say when it is time to feed and when she is done.” Huh?? Well if that’s the case then I say she is done when she chooses to be done. How about that? I was receiving some of the same info from well meaning family/friends. This only served to confuse me. I thought I was doing the right thing. My gut was telling me I am doing the right thing but everyone else is telling me that I was wrong. Frustrated and confused that evening during what seemed like the end of a cluster feed, I broke out a bottle of the liquid formula samples and gave that to her. Much to my dismay she sucked the whole thing down-all 2 ounces. Maybe my supply wasn’t as good as I thought it was, maybe I wasn’t producing enough milk for her… Much to my delight she vomited the entire contents back up all over both of us! I decided right then and there that I knew what was best for her and would feed her as I saw fit and that formula was never touching her lips again. The next time she had seen the pediatrician she had gained 5 ounces in two days. I took that as proof positive that she was fine and continued my course of action.

The first two weeks after Lillie’s birth were really hard. I felt like I was grieving rather than rejoicing in our new little life. I spent a lot of time processing the events that had occurred surrounding her birth and I spent a lot of time crying. People that tell you-be happy, you have a healthy baby and that is all that is important-have not a clue. I felt like my dream was shattered. I felt broken and damaged. No, I didn’t have “the baby blues.” I wasn’t depressed, I had post traumatic stress. Very different and neither is usually diagnosed in postpartum women.

Looking back on the first year of Lillie’s life, I didn’t realize the affects of PTSD. I felt distant from other mothers. I looked at other mothers cooing and playing with their babies, seemingly loving every moment and here I was hanging on by a thread with a colicy baby, struggling with breastfeeding and sleeping just about every night for the first month with Lillie in the rocking chair. When I finally got to sleep in my own bed, every night for a year I had a waking dream that Lillie was drowning in the comforters and sheets. Frantically, I would scoop with my arms and try to find and save her until Eric would wake up and calm me down and remind me that she was in her crib. This happened EVERY night for a whole year. Without question it was a struggle in our relationship. It affected our friendships and family relationships. It was probably a good one to two years before I felt mostly normal again. It took small steps day by day, some days were good and others were bad. I don’t think I’ll ever be quite the same person again. I wanted things to be different the second time around and thankfully they were for the most part. Eve’s birth was very healing and I felt a huge part of myself restored after she was born. But it’s been a struggle. Lillie is now almost 4 ½ years old and she still has her fiery personality. Her sister Eve is 2. I feel like I’ve settled into who I am as a mom, as their mom, and because of my birth experiences I’ve decided to start training as a doula. If I can help other moms not experience what I’ve experienced, or at the very least be there to say “I’ve been there and I’m sorry you’re going through this” then I think I can find some great fulfillment there.

If you’ve made it this far in the story-thank you for taking the time to read this! I hope that other women that have had similar circumstances will feel vindicated and not so alone. Facing your birth trauma can be very difficult but an empowering experience. Here are a few things I learned along the way:

- Enjoy the ride. Babies will come when they are good and ready. Trying to make them come early can prolong your labor excessively.

-Eat, Drink and Be Merry for tomorrow you give birth! Trust me, popcorn does not get you through 26 hours of labor. Eat even if you aren’t hungry BEFORE you go to the hospital. Unless you think you’ll vomit, eat a FULL meal and drink lots of clear fluids.

-Are you screaming yet? Then it’s probably NOT time to go to the hospital. Unless there is an actual MEDICAL reason to go to the hospital, wait until your “screaming for Jesus” as my friend would say. Even if your water in broken, you most likely need not rush to the hospital. (so long as the fluid is clear)

-Do you think you’re one in a million? Most women do. Reality check-you are most likely NOT that woman that labors for 45 minutes and pushes for 3. Most first time moms will be in labor for 12-24 hours and push for 1-3 hours. Are you REALLY ready to go to the hospital yet and start that circus? Wouldn’t you rather stay awhile longer at home where it’s much more comfortable and you can feel free to eat and drink and labor as nature intended? Once you get to the hospital you will be forbidden from eating and your laboring options may be limited.

-Get informed! Know what you are getting into when you sign the papers for meds and interventions. If you don’t know your options-you don’t have any! Many women spend more time researching a family pet or deciding on an outfit than researching their birth options. Don’t you owe it to yourself and your baby to know what potentially might lie ahead? Birth without fear.

-But he’s really nice! Yeah, I’m sure your OB is just ducky but personality tells you nothing about their birth stats. Ask ahead of time what their c-section rate is, induction rate is, episiotomy rate is and other pertinent info. What is their feeling about going natural? What would they do in this or that situation? Ask questions!

-Where’s my midwife? Consider having a midwife attend your birth rather than an OB. OBs are great at what they do but they are highly trained surgeons and are looking for pathology-their motto: birth is a medical event until proven otherwise. Midwife motto: birth is a natural event until proven otherwise.

-Doula what? Doulas are WONDERFUL! I wouldn’t birth without one! Whether you decide to use drugs or not, doulas are worth their weight in gold. Find one that you work well with. She or he will provide continuous labor support. In contrast, you will see a L&D nurse occasionally to frequently but they usually don’t help you much while in labor, rather they are monitoring you and the baby’s vitals. Your OB will check on you 2-5 minutes here and there and then swoop in for the catch at the end. A midwife will spend more time with you but hospital births are different than home births. A midwife at a home birth will act more like a doula.

-Home Sweet Home. Consider a home birth and avoid the hospital craziness. Home birth is a safe alternative for low risk pregnancies. Some think it is being brave to birth at home, I say it is the sisters who birth in the hospital that are the brave ones. Do your research and find out.

-Who’s the Mama? YOU ARE THE MAMA! This is your baby. This is your body and no one knows it better than you. Know your rights, know your options, be informed. Birth isn’t a speed bump on the road to your baby, it’s part of your amazing journey to motherhood, so make it a good one. This is YOUR story too!

If you are a husband/partner/friend attending the birth here are some tips:

-Never make the remark “You have a healthy baby and that’s all that is important.” This totally demeans any trauma the mother went through and undermines her emotions. Healthy mommies are important too. You wouldn’t tell a cancer survivor “Hey, you’re still alive, quit complaining.” No, we say, “I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m here to listen.”

-Gently remind your mamma about what she wanted to do going into the birth. Get her through one more contraction before she makes any final decisions. Believe in her and let her know it. Do whatever she asks you without question.

-Support & encourage your mamma above all else. You are there for her. Support her decisions even if you don’t totally agree at the time. Defend and protect her from health staff that think differently. Remember, a woman in labor is strong yet she is totally susceptible to being undermined in a moment’s notice. She knows her body better than you do.

-Defend & protect the laboring space. It’s your job to make her laboring space safe and to make her feel protected. If you have Chatty Cathy as a labor nurse and it’s bothering your lady, kindly ask Chatty Cathy to be chatty somewhere else. If you have staff that are not working well with your laboring momma, you can ask for someone else to take their place. Ask the nurse manager on duty to assign someone else to you if possible. If that’s not possible, tell her/him your concerns and let them address the staff in question.

Do you have any suggestions to add?

Yeah, that story has always bugged me. I’ve never been able to reconcile my brain to my heart to fully understand it. I get that Mary chose the wiser option, but I’m always left with that nagging feeling of yeah, but people still have to eat, things need to be prepared, it all takes time. Sure, I’d love to sit at the feet of Jesus all day and soak it in, but what if someone wants a sandwich? Who’s going to get that bird into the oven on time for the holiday meal? And what about the endless side dishes that you MUST have to make the meal complete? I have no problems letting dishes sit til tomorrow but who’s gonna dish out some pie? And make it a la mode? With sprinkles? And whipped cream?

So what brings this all up? Ugh! Why can’t I stick to trying to leave things simple? Tomorrow I’m having a few ladies over to listen to the Norah Jones concert that is playing at Musikfest. We can hear all the concerts on Sand Island from our backyard, it’s really great! And on the invite I say, bring a snack and a beverage to share. That’s it, just a snack and a drink, no big deal right? But my mind can’t leave well enough alone. I had planned on making brownies and iced tea and that was it, just that, no more. But today I found my mind wandering…. Hmmmm…. Maybe I could just pick up a few things at the store…. Cheese might be nice… What if someone doesn’t like cheese, maybe I should get some finger foods too… And brownies might not be enough, what about some cookies or another sweet item… And what about some other drinks than iced tea…

Seriously, it’s a sickness! We are talking about potentially 4-6 women here, that’s all, it’s not a full blown party. I don’t need to roll them outa my place. Well, some of them maybe, but they are preggers and that’s another story!

Why do I feel the need to go all out and run myself ragged for this? All I really want to do is sit on the patio, relax with some friends and enjoy the concert. Maybe you feel the same way but your addiction is cleanliness and order rather than making mounds of food. Do you have the urge to clean every nook and cranny before guests arrive? Please, come to my house then, it needs a good cleaning! Different face, same disease.

I think therein lies what Jesus was getting at. Martha could have chosen to quickly throw a chicken & veggies in the crock pot and use paper plates, but instead she chose to go all out. I can see her, rushing around the kitchen, flour on the floor, every counter covered with a cook book and supplies and she’s running herself ragged trying to come up with every combination of food that Jesus and his friends might want to eat. And in some ways I envy her, she got to cook for Jesus, seriously, that’s insanely cool to me! I bet she wanted to impress him too with her culinary talents and creativity. But what if he wasn’t impressed by the chicken… Maybe I should have made lamb… No good, Jesus is the Good Shepherd…. Ummmm, beef then. Oh, screw it, I’ll just do all three, he’s bound to be impressed by one of them!

Do you see? Looking for approval. Looking for him to say “this is why I love you.” But this is not why he loves Martha or me for that matter or you either. Do you hear him saying, “Martha, Dear Martha…” What tenderness! Stop fussing, I just want to be with you. You. Not the food you are preparing, although, I know if will be a feast. But it will taste empty if you are in the kitchen the whole party.

So, maybe I finally get it this time. We make the story too much about Mary. It’s really about the Martha in us all, wanting approval, needing approval. It’s really about how Jesus is waiting to sit and be with you, but we’re too busy preparing our empty feasts in our germ free homes to notice.

Come. Sit. Be.

So, tomorrow night I’m sticking to brownies and iced tea. And maybe some fruit…. What??? I already have it cut up, it just needs to go on a plate, seriously!

All right, let’s do this! Pho it is!

First impressions-clean, nice/new tables, friendly greeting, seated promptly, very empty (only two other couples/families there at the same time), TV was playing PBS Sprout-BONUS!!!

I had to chuckle walking in… In typical family owned fashion the first table near the cash register was filled with two little kids and baby strapped into a car seat with, and I’m assuming, grandma playing some cards and watching the little ones.

Now let’s get one thing straight first, the spelling of Pho is deceiving to its pronunciation. I’ve been told that it’s pronounced FA, like fa la la la la la la la laaaaa! Secondly, Pho equals fun. Why? Because they bring out this HUGE bowl of very tasty noodley soup and a large plate of side items and sauces and you can totally customize the taste of your soup. Love the idea already! And the price? I ordered a bowl with beef-the small is $6.50 and a large is $7.50 so you’re not breaking the bank either. Most bowls were about the same price. They also had some very tasty spring rolls and summer rolls (about $3 or $4)

Click to view slideshow.
It’s always interesting dining with children. You never know what is going to happen. Especially when daddy orders Lillie a Sprite! She was in rare form, even for her. She loved the noodles but was too busy watching Caillou to really eat well. Daddy helped shovel a few spoonfuls into her now very hyper body. Of course, she puked adding to the ambiance for the cute couple seated a few tables away. Not that the food was bad, she was just that hyper.

And what was Eve doing? Getting very sleepy of course! Momma doesn’t actually get to taste much of my much anticipated Pho while trying to pacify an increasingly grumpy baby. I was starting to consider packing it up and getting a doggie bag but then, Daddy to the rescue! Like a comforting blankie, daddy scoops up Evie for a quick walk outside while I finish up my very tasty bowl of beefy Pho. Dining with the sisters is always ever close to disaster but certainly never dull!

Will we go back?  I think so! Will we order Sprite again,  probably not!

Can’t wait to get started! I’ve been putting this off for awhile!