Moments 2014

It's so easy to look ahead that I always struggle to live in and savor the moments. If I don't make a conscious effort those moments can quickly fade from my memory. These are some of the things I want to remember.

When Gemma was in NICU, there was a night where she had to eat every 3 hours on the dot because they were monitoring her blood sugar. If it was too low they would give her formula. After waking up so many times that night, I sat in the rocker pumping while Mike held Gemma. There were dividers up around us, but I could hear the day starting and see the sun filtering in through the always closed blinds. I was beyond exhausted but the hormones from pumping were relaxing me and I managed to doze off.

One of our last mornings in NICU, I was sitting in the rocker nursing Gemma and I could see out the small window in our semi private room. I had grown to love these early mornings and watching the stars ebb to daylight.

I went to visit my 95 year old grandpa with my parents. Gemma was with me and Grandpa was elated to be holding sweet Gemma Lorraine, the latter which was named for his wife. She started fussing and he asked if I had a bottle. I smiled sweetly and said, "nope, just me". "You nursing her?", he asked. I replied yes and took her into the bedroom. As I was getting her on I heard him say, "she doesn't have to be concerned about feeding her child in front of me, I've been down that road many times." I never knew my grandma nursed her babies and I was grateful for the surprising support from my sweet stubborn, old grandpa.

I was swimming with Gemma in my parents pool. I was holding her tight and letting her get used to the water. I was smiling at her and she was smiling back at me from underneath her eyelet sunhat when this song came on.

Back when all my little goals seemed so important

Every pot of gold fill and full of distortion

Heaven was a place still in space not in motion

But soon

I got you

I got everything

I’ve got you

I don’t need nothing

More than you

I got everything

I’ve got you

We went walking through the hills

Tryin’ to pretend that we both know

Maybe if we save up

We can build a little home

But then the hell storm came and yelled, 

“You need to let go, you’ve got no control. No.”

I got you

I got everything

I’ve got you

I don’t need nothing

More than you

I got everything

I’ve got you

This weight’s too much alone

Some days I can't hold it at all

You take it on for me

When tomorrow’s too much

I’ll carry it all

I’ve got you

And when tomorrow’s too much

I’ll carry it all

I got you

I got you

I got everything

I’ve got you

I don’t need nothing

More than you

I got everything

I’ve got you

I woke up to Max having a small seizure in bed. I stared into his eye and told him he was ok, that he was safe and I was with him. The fan blew my hair around his face and I could see my face reflected in his eyes. 

September

Gem and I were in her rocker nursing. Max finally figured out he could lay on the ottoman and we all sat that way dozing. Gemma looked up at me as I was looking down at her, she gave me a sleepy smile and we both closed our eyes and napped.

I often nap with Gemma during the day. She comes into bed with me and nurses to sleep. She reaches up to play with her hair and holds onto my hands.

Thing I've Learned about Motherhood

Things I've learned about pregnancy and birth

It's crazy

It's the most amazing thing in the world.

Everyone has an opinion.

You're female coworkers may not have a lot of sympathy.

Enjoy every milestone. 

If you're very particular in your aesthetic. Don't have a baby shower. You'll get many things that other people like. 

Multipurpose and gender neutral is a good idea.

You cannot control the birth of your baby. Planning isn't a waste of time, however. Being educated helps you tremendously, but know you must be fluid. 

Things I've learned in my past 6 months as a mother.

Be as you wish to be as a parent. Raise your children the way you want. 

Take advice politely and consider it. It may not be something you care for, but it might be.

Stand your ground. 

Even if you don't feel it right away, you will feel a love you never thought possible.

Your husband loves your child more than you can imagine. 

Babywearing is a good idea.

If something doesn't work, try something else.

You are the perfect mother to your child

A Certain Kind of Woman

I wanted to be a certain kind of woman. I became that kind of woman. - Diane Von Furstenberg

I constantly find myself split between two ideals of self. I find myself wanting to be a lady, loosely following traditional gender roles and striving to be a respectable, mannered woman. I believe in dressing for yourself and your husband, maintaining some of the 'feminine mystique" if you will. Some may find this old fashioned, and self deprecating even, but I believe find this to be my own form of feminism. I expect respect from all but especially men, who should hold doors and act like gentleman to me and other women around me. This view extends to my views and intentions of raising children. Although I have no plans to quash individuality and expression, I expect my children to respect my authority and learn to become properly dressed, well mannered and respectful people.

The other ideal is of the more natural type. The one who tries to save the world from waste and obsolescence. The one who prays to the moon and loves the smell of fresh flowers. I often wish I could  break my tether to technology and be fully present in nature. Again this side of me extends to my goals for motherhood. I want to wear my babies and clothe them in cloth diapers, for them to fall asleep in my arms around a bonfire after a day of playing in the water under the warm Michigan sun.

The point of this is that there is no one type of person, although I find it hard to comprehend. We are all products of our experiences. Our families, friends, education, and careers shape who we are and who we strive to be. I am everything I've experienced, enjoy, dream about, love, and find solace in. This is the kind of woman I am.

The Power of 29

I read this article the other day about The Power of 29: An Ode to Being Almost 30. This article talks about how around this age, my age, we "give fewer fucks" and start feeling like we're living the lives we set up for ourselves. We also learn to accept the truths about ourselves and our lives. Sometimes it's hard to give up your ideal self and live with your real self. A couple of things I've recently accepted about myself.

My nails, rarely, if ever, will be painted. You're lucky if my toes are painted.

I'll never wear a lot of makeup. If it's a choice between sleeping in and getting up early enough to put on makeup, sleeping in will always win.

I love fashion but hate spending money.

I'm a night owl and will NEVER be an early bird. 

I fucking hate exercise.

I am a homebody. 

I'd rather drink with friends around a fire than drink with friends at a bar.

I'm happy to be middle class with a modest home.

I simultaneously love and hate being a nurse.

I'm sometimes self righteous

I swear. A lot.

There's a lot of power in accepting yourself. I think it actually allows you to focus on your real priorities and living your best life, even without painted nails.

The Birth of Gemma Lorraine

The day started like the rest of the days had recently. I was nine months pregnant and getting awfully uncomfortable as the weeks passed. I had been sleeping on the couch to curb the heartburn but nothing was helping the joint pain in my hands and feet or the backache. I was snoring and peeing almost every hour. Mike had been making me breakfast every morning before he got ready for work. I was sitting at the peninsula when I noticed I was having cramps. They were like menstrual cramps and very irregular. Mike went to work and I spent the day laying around as I had to work my last shift the next day and the cramps were still there but unchanged from before. I took a hot bath and Max laid outside the tub the entire time.  I was watching TV and getting ready to go to bed early when I decided to time my cramps. They were 6 minutes apart and I was assuming they were Braxton hicks contractions. I had a feeling though and packed my hospital bag before going to bed with a heating pad on my lower back. I had been laying down not five minutes when I had a contraction and I heard or felt a small pop. I knew what it was and I ran to the bathroom just in time.

I called Mike immediately and told him my water had broken. He was floored and drove 90 on the highway to get home. I called the midwife who told me to try to relax and that she didn't expect to hear from me for several hours. I called my mom, who was at our family cabin in southwest Michigan and told her to get ready to come. The contractions picked up immediately and by the time Mike got home they were 2-3 minutes apart and about 30 seconds long. Mike decided we were going to the hospital then. I re-paged the midwife and although I didn't hear back, we headed to the hospital.  The contractions were still bearable but I didn't trust that they'd remain that way. I got to the hospital entrance and got out and leaned across the valet desk during a contraction. Two security guards arrived, put me in a wheelchair and took me up to L&D.

I arrived upstairs and was immediately put in a room. Since the midwife never actually got re-paged, the nurses upstairs didn't know I was coming, but could tell things were moving. I was checked and was 4 cm dilated, fully effaced and at 0 station. When the midwife arrived I had already decided I wanted an epidural. I was 6 centimeters, the back labor was terrible and I didn't feel I had any support from the midwife with pain relief. The anesthesiologist arrived and had the epidural in in between contractions, within three minutes. While waiting for the epidural to take full effect I tried to relax although my legs shook from the adrenaline for another 40 minutes. The midwife left and went to sleep until I was ready to push. I was really disappointed with how checked out she seemed although I didn't really realize until much later.

The midwife knew nothing about me and when my heart rate spiked while pushing, she just stepped back and I was forced to accept the medicalized OB birth I didn't want. Pushing wasn't bad, but the OB was concerned about my heart rate and after a short trial of pushing, they suggested I "labor down". This meant I got an epidural bolus and let my body bring my baby farther down to decrease the amount of time pushing and thus prevent my heart rate from spiking. I remember laying in the bed trying to sleep while the sun started to come up and filter through the windows. I started pushing after some time and after about 30 minutes, the table was broken down and I was ready to deliver. Although I'm not sure what happened, at some point the OB became worried about the baby, as evident by the terse whispers between her and the midwife. Her heart rate dropped (a late deceleration) a few times in response to my rapid heart rate which had decreased blood flow to the placenta. Neonatology was brought in,  and I consented to forceps to get her out quickly. Right as her head was about to be delivered, the OB put a vacuum extractor on the baby's head. I gave another big push and she removed the vacuum, as it was unnecessary. I felt her head and shoulders come out, an amazing feeling, and she came out the rest of the way. The OB cut the cord and she was immediately given to the neonatologist. The placenta was pulled out and I was stitched up due to an episiotomy that was something I didn't want or consent to and something I probably didn't need. Her Apgars were beautiful, 8 and 9, Mike held her and she was finally given to me.

It's hard for me not to dwell on the negatives. The midwife that I saw 95% of the time was actually supposed to work that weekend but switched with the other midwife. Things would have gone much differently had she been there. She was aware of the issues with my heart rate and although I had an epidural, I could have had intermittent monitoring, no vacuum or episiotomy, Mike getting to cut her cord, her being placed right on me after birth. The midwife would've coached me instead of sleeping during my labor and standing next to the doctor during delivery. I'm glad however that I was able to have a vaginal birth without contraction inducing pitocin. I was able to push her out myself with my Mom and my husband helping me through.

Expecting

In the middle of August as my cycle was coming to an end I started to have the most vivid and intense dreams. I've heard that pregnant women experience this but didn't want to get my hopes up. As the days passed no cramps arrived but there was a mild but constant twinge on the right side in front of my hip. My breasts were sore but only slightly more than any other month. I was a day late when I decided to test and saw a line quickly appear in the test window. It was an emotional time with the death of one of Mike's friends only the day before we found out. We told our family and closest friends and made an appointment to see the midwife.

The first week after we found out I was pregnant was full of emotions. I remember being at work and every time I remembered that I was pregnant and my stomach would drop a little. We went to the River House and I voiced my fears and anxiety about this big change. My obsessive thoughts got the best of my and the first  month or so pregnancy were wrought with anxiety and tears. I questioned whether it was the right decision for me to carry a child. Fortunately, with help from my doc and a wonderful psychiatrist, the fog lifted and I returned to my old self. It was the most relief I've ever experienced.

I was feeling much better emotionally when the morning sickness kicked in. I was sick all the time, often throwing up at work with little sympathy from the management of a short staffed floor. But the sickness I could handle. I'd look in the mirror in our bathroom every time I walked by to check and see if my belly was getting any bigger. By 12 weeks we'd seen the midwife and a maternal fetal medicine doc for our ultrasound and found out that the baby looked beautiful with incredibly low risk for genetic disorders. We couldn't tell, but I felt pretty sure it was a boy.

I told a couple of close friends at work right away. I told my manager around 6 weeks and told her I was interested in switching to days. I had been working nights for almost a full year, and although I loved having the time with Mike, I was not sleeping at night and sleeping all day everyday, not just between shifts. I also figured it would be better for me to get on a normal sleep schedule during pregnancy. I was told I'd have to wait until the New Year, which was fine, so I continued working night shift but was down to 2 nights a week.

One night before work I felt my heart racing and upon arriving at work found my heart rate to be 140. My manager called down to L&D and the nurses encouraged me to come down to triage. I went down, was told I was dehydrated, given a liter of fluid and some zofran and told to go home. A week or so had passed, I had been switched to day shift earlier than expected (it was mid November), and I could feel my heart racing again. I was in the 150s, starting to get worried, and was sent home. An ER visit, a holter monitor, a cardiologist and an echo showed pregnancy induced sinus tachycardia. No risk to the baby, no need for medication, no problems with my heart and the reassurance that it would go away after pregnancy. I was told to take it easy with no intense cardio (me?). During our 20 week appointment, the maternal fetal medicine doc discussed the low risk of pulmonary embolism and the need to take it easy on the IV fluids when in labor. This appointment also informed us of the gender of our little honeybee.

The day of our ultrasound, Mike and I were both off work and were planning to make a day of it. We got dressed up and went to the ultrasound. The tech, unenthusiastically announced it was a girl, and Mike and I were taken aback. I was certain it was a boy and with six nieces and no nephews between us it was definitely the hope of a few family members that we'd finally have the first boy. We didn't get to look at her face as that's where she loves to keep her hands (even in the 12 week ultrasound) . We went to dinner afterward and started talking names. After a few days we were back to our usual level of excitement. I started putting ideas together for her nursery, settled on her name and now I couldn't imagine having a boy.

I don't know why it took me so long to write about this pregnancy. I guess living with family and not having a home to care for, decorating for the holidays or having access to our usual things has left me uninspired. But I couldn't let my whole pregnancy go by undocumented. Despite the tough times, I love being pregnant. I'm 31 weeks and this little girl is full of wiggles all the time. The nursery is almost done and we're starting to get ready for the big day that we meet our sweet honeybee.