Tyler's birth story

Caveat: this is a birth story. Feel free to skip it if it's not your thing.

The pregnancy went well, very smoothly. I was still bellydancing, and had tentatively committed to performing in our big fall show a week before the due date. My troupe mates were nervous that I would give birth before the performance, but I figured I would perform. The week of the show we had dance practice Monday, Tuesday and Thursday for a couple of hours each. I joked that all that practicing would send me into labor. It didn't. We had our show on Friday, and I performed in all three of our choreographies. It was great. No sign of labor.

The following Wednesday afternoon, three days before the due date, J and I thought we'd try and start labor. We had some alone time, then took a walk with Doodle to the new Adventure Playground. We played for a while then took a quick walk home. I was having contractions, but they were less than 45 seconds long and sporadic. I texted Melissa to let her know I was contracting, and she said to keep her posted. I talked to Melissa again at 9:30pm and said we'd call if I had more consistent or powerful contractions. Otherwise we'd see her for our prenatal in the morning.

My Mom arrived around 10 that evening after a long day's drive from Spokane. We sat around and chatted for a while, then went to bed around 11:30. I woke up sometime around 1ish to pee. I had one strong contraction soon after laying down again, but was able to fall asleep after it passed. Again at 2ish I woke up to pee, and again had 1 strong contraction before going back to sleep.

I woke up yet again at 3:45am to pee. I laid down and had 1 strong contraction, same as before. But this time, about 9 minutes later, I had another contraction. Then another about 7 minutes after that. I wasn't certain that this was it, but I was sure it was something worth calling Melissa about. So at 4:30, after those three strong contractions, I woke J up. I told him what was going on, that I was going to take a bath and see if that would slow the contractions. I suggested he call Melissa. When he did, she said she'd hop right in her car and be on her way - being two hours away, I think she felt there was no time to dawdle.

J went out to the living room to tell my Mom what was going on. She had heard the bath water running and figured something was happening. J suggested that she could go back to sleep, but at that point I think we all knew there would be no more sleep that night. Meanwhile I continued to have contractions while in the bath. I got out and started leaning on the exercise ball propped on the couch, or on the bathroom counter during contractions, swaying my hips back and forth. My mom was timing contractions using the ContractionMaster website, and J was pushing on my back during contractions. Doodle was still sound asleep in the bedroom.

I was laboring leaning on bathroom counter when I realized that I was shaky and needed to eat. But my stomach was queasy and I had thrown up in labor with Doodle, so I was hesitant to eat anything. Finally I asked my mom to bring me a carrot - the same labor food I'd loved for Doodle's birth. Sweet and crunchy and not too heavy. Carrots were perfect. I kept laboring in our tiny bathroom, pushing down on the counter while J pushed on my back. I didn't need as forceful of counter-pressure this time as I had with Doodle, but I needed Josh there, supporting me. Throughout labor the baby was kicking & moving like crazy, especially during contractions, making each even more intense.

As the contractions became more intense I switched from swaying my hips side-to-side to an up-and-down shallow squat motion. This felt better, but I did think "oh no, I'm doing squats again. I didn't want to do squats this time." My concern was more that I didn't want to do squats for a long time. I shouldn't have worried. The contractions felt very intense, like I was nearly fully dilated and getting there fast. Then I felt a little bit pushy and grunty at the end of a couple really powerful contractions. I wondered if Melissa would be here soon, and thought "well, I'm not really pushing yet. I still have to go through transition, and I haven't even puked yet." I figured I had a little while yet.

Melissa arrived at 6:17am. I heard her car pull up as I grunted and gave a tiny push at the end of a contraction. I had two more contractions like that, with little pushes at the end, and I announced "umm, pushing." I could hear Melissa quickly setting things up in the living room. So much for transition! I gave one full push and my water broke, so I announced "umm, water." By this point Melissa and my mom had set things up in the living room, and they persuaded me to walk down the hall during a break between pushes so I could continue laboring in the much-less-cramped living room. I was not thrilled with having to walk down the hall right then, but figured if I gave birth in the middle of the hallway it was not my fault.

I made it to the living room and resumed labor holding onto the back of a dining chair, standing up. Melissa listened to the baby's heartbeat, then the next contraction hit. That push brought his head down to my perineum. I heard Melissa comment on me "being a pro" when I moved my hand there instinctively for counter pressure. Three quick, small pushes followed by one big, long push and his head was nearly out. I heard J say that his lip was stuck (which surprised me, because we didn't yet know the baby's sex). One more push and he was born into his Papa's waiting hands. A beautiful baby boy, Tyler Jesse D--, born at 6:25am.

Doodle woke up about 20 minutes later and got to meet her new baby brother. It all worked out perfectly.

Thursday October 8th 2009. 7lbs, 20" long. 39 weeks 5 days gestation, just like his big sister.

He's here!

Tyler Jesse was born on Thursday, 8 Oct. at 6:25am. He's 7lbs and 20 inches long. Labor was less than 3 hours long. Our midwife, Melissa, was here for 8 minutes before Tyler was born into his Papa's hands. We're all doing great.

I'll post the full birth story plus cute photos of my little harvest baby soon.

39 weeks

Less than a week left until our due date. Still feeling good, and baby has not dropped. J took some bellypics yesterday with our neighbor's very nice camera. These are my favorites.

Presenting: My Quilt!

At some point during this pregnancy I got a strange urge. Not to clean obsessively, nor to search Northern Utah for the fattiest food imaginable (though both of those urges did arise at some point). No, this urge was different. I wanted to learn to quilt.

Yes, quilt.

Being the good grad student I am *cough cough* I put off this urge for as long as possible. But with chapter drafts in my committee's hands and J needing lots of post-travel on-campus time, what else was there for me to do but indulge myself?

I started with this book, Bend-the-rules Sewing by Amy Karol. It's a perfect book for a rookie like myself who is totally overwhelmed by the precision required in fancy schmancy quilts and other advanced sewing projects. She encourages some level of winging it, which works perfectly for me.

I found a pattern in this book for an Easy Lap Quilt. It looked easy indeed. And I just so happened to have some pieces of fabric that went well together and I thought would look pretty in a quilt. Plus the directions specified that the quilting required to finish this piece was simple and easily done on a regular home sewing machine. I could do this! With nothing to hold me back, Doodle and I bought some fabrics to complement my stash and I pieced them together. A couple of hours of fussing over fabric order, plus one day of machine sewing and a couple hours here and there to sew the binding, and Ta Da!

I present my first quilt, completed today.

It's a lap quilt, so it measures ~40" x 40". Good for a full-size Doodle blanket, or smallish grownup blanket.

Here you can see the backing - just a solid piece of the green circle fabric.

It has passed family inspection, and will hopefully get a lot of snuggling time this winter.

Big

I feel big. Just... big.

Last night I decided to try on my troupe bellydance costume and make the necessary size adjustments before the show. Ho-ly cow. I knew I'd gained weight in my hips. And they've spread out some. I'm 38 weeks pregnant. This is normal. But inches? Plural? Whoa.

How my belt fits now - hooks are on the very ends of the pieces, though it *does* meet (thank goodness!)

The difference. Inches. The finger on the right is pointing to where the hooks attached back in May. Finger on the left indicates where they attach now. Yep, bit of a difference.

Practicing

"Pregnant" Doodle, practicing

In preparation for our homebirth, we've talked a lot with Doodle about the birth process and how things will go. We've even shown her some birth videos (with a running dialogue between Mama and Doodle all the while) to help her understand that it's okay when Mamas make noise. Things like that. I guess we're in the Open and Honest Explanation category when it comes to explaining birth.

Doodle seems to be processing all this birthy info really well. In fact, she has been practicing giving birth for the past three days. This is typically how it goes:

She shoves a baby up her shirt then tells me "I have a baby soon!"
She stands there for a second, then starts saying "Oh! Ohh! Baby's comin'!" as she pushes the baby down.
Baby comes out of her shirt, Doodle catches it.
She brings the baby up to her chest and starts making cute cooing "Ohhh, hi baby!" sounds.
She holds baby out to me, stating "Baby's messy."
I pretend to wipe off the baby while I tell her congratulations and that her baby is beautiful.
She holds the baby for a few seconds then tells me "Baby needs milk." Depending on her mood, she'll pretend to nurse the baby or she'll insist that I need to "because mama has big milk boobies."

I think she's ready for the big show.

Home Visit (37w3d)

Today our wonderful midwife Melissa came to our house for The Home Visit. I was excited to finally see her, as it'd been nearly five weeks since we'd met (I saw her midwifery partner for our last appointment). Oddly, I was nervous about the home visit. Nervous! I mean, really. She's been to my house before. She's helped with the birth of my child in my house before. Yet I was nervous that somehow my house wouldn't meet her approval? Yes, preggy logic strikes again.

The appointment went well. Very chill. Belly is measuring normal, my pee is good (though I seem to be perpetually spilling sugars... grrr). Still no internal exams, so no official numbers to offer up as to my cervical status. I know you're bummed. Tough. ;-) I told Melissa I've had pinchy cervical twinges off and on, and she said "Good!" I also told her that 1-2x/day I've had an actual contraction that feels labor-ish and makes me stop what I'm doing and pay attention. Her reply: "Great!" She's encouraged that my body seems to be getting ready, but also seems to be in no rush. Hooray for me.

Added bonus of the home visit: we now have drop cloths and chux pads and an inflatable kiddie pool at the ready for labor. I already have baby clothes laundered, towels at the ready, and the house is probably more tidy than it's been in a LONG time.

Now all we need is 1) J to come home, 2) me to complete my last few pre-delivery obligations of teaching and, hopefully, performing in the bellydance show coming up. Then baby gets the all clear and we're ready to go!

37 weeks

Some awful belly self-portraits taken in the mirror this morning. 37 weeks, 2 days. Officially to term, and our midwife can attend our homebirth from here on out.

Still feeling mostly good most of the time. Sitting is becoming uncomfortable because little one takes it as a cue to stretch out in my ribs. Other than that, all is well. We have our midwife home visit tomorrow and will get all of the birth supplies from her then(!). This pregnancy has really flown by. It's crazy.

Ooh, great idea!

I'm so curious to see what this newest little person will look like... time to go make some Punnett squares?

For Doodle

"Read me books, Mama.
All these."
She points to the pile.
We snuggle up, her head on my shoulder
her legs curved around my belly,
around her sibling.

We cuddle and read
book after book after book
with breaks for "what's that?"
and
"oh no, is he okay?"
My compassionate little bookworm.

I feel her drifting off to sleep
lulled by my voice
and my presence.
I'm glad I'm here now.
I have things to do,
lists upon lists of urgent projects

but right now, she needs me

and I need her.
We need this.

Soon she'll be a big sister
with big sister feelings
and a big sister portion of my time.
But right now, here,
we cuddle.

I know I'll love another
just as much as her.
I'll love watching her
embrace her new role: big sister.
It's just so hard to imagine.
Hard to think about
my divided attention,
my divided time.

I promise her I'll do my best
and kiss her sweet, sleepy head
as I settle in
and drift off to sleep with my Doodle.

The Belly

I seem to have officially crossed some pregnancy threshold: I'm huge. I say this not because I have passed a certain measurement or hit a wall of awkwardness. It's what others are saying. Comments have recently switched from the "aww, you're pregnant. How cute!" variety to the "Holy... wow. You're REALLY pregnant. Due soon?" variety.

Quick Public Service Announcement: As pregnant ladies we aware that we are pregnant. This is not news to us. Comments of the "oh, you look great" variety are always welcome. Comments tending toward "wow, you're huge" or "oh, poor thing... you must be miserable" are never welcome, at least not by me. If I want to bitch about pregnancy-related stuff, I will. But if I barely know you, chances are I'd rather stab myself in the eye with a spoon than receive your unwanted sympathy for how big I am and how uncomfortable I must be. Because really? I'm not that uncomfortable. Honest. Yes, there are actions that are difficult for me, namely putting on shoes or shaving my legs. So if you're offering to give me a pedicure or tie my shoe, your help would be welcome. But for the most part I feel really good, and don't want your damn sympathy thankyouverymuch.

(P.S. I am 34 weeks pregnant. That means I have somewhere between 3 and 8 weeks until this little one is born, probably somewhere around 6 weeks from now. So I'm not sure how making me feel ENORMOUS now will help the next six weeks pass easily and comfortably. Y'know?)

Alright, alright. Enough ranting. Tell me what you think. Here are a couple of photos Doodle and I took on a stroll up at Tony Grove Lake yesterday. Is this belly shock-worthy?

Self-portrait of the cuteness.

View from the front. Photo by Doodle.

Well?

What do you think?

due date stress, or lack thereof

If nearly everyone around me seems to be nervous on my behalf that I might give birth before my due date, does it make me foolish to not be nervous?

My rationale: I've planned as much as I can for alternate scenarios. I can't anticipate for certain when the baby will be born (somewhere in the 37-42 week window is my best guess. Not exactly something you can block out on the calendar as *the day*). Stressing about something that I can't control seems futile. Might as well just sit back and wait, right?

If the baby is born before I've taught all of the early-semester labs I'm scheduled to teach then we'll work something out. The prof in charge of the class and my fellow TA are both prepared for this.

If the baby is born before my bellydance show, they'll have to rework things without me. My fellow dancers know this.

If the baby is born while J is in Pennsylvania (I'll be 37 weeks), then I'll just have to do what I can. I have support I can call on.

It'll all work out. It may not be the easiest, best planned approach, but it'll work. Seems reasonable to me. Is there something I'm missing?

This post is worthless without photos

Tonight at dance I got the comment "I don't think you'll make it [read: stay pregnant] until the show." Our big bellydance show is October 2nd, 8 days before my supposed due date. It's a reasonable guess that I may not still be pregnant then. *shrug* Ok, fine. Whatever.

This was immediately followed by "are you sure you're not having twins?"

Excuse me while my head explodes. Twins?! Do I look like I could be 33.5 weeks pregnant with TWINS?! No. Certainly not.

At least I don't think so. Time to take another round of bellypics, I suppose.

Drowning in apricots

About 1.5 weeks ago we picked apricots. Lots of apricots. The friends of a friend of ours had a tree full of apricots and didn't want them to go to waste. I inquired about picking, and they happily invited us over to "take as much as we wanted."

We brought home six boxes worth of apricots.

This is where those who have processed and canned fruits ask "what in the world possessed you to take so many? What can any one family do with SIX BOXES of apricots?"

That is a very good question.

We made 31.5 pints worth of apricot goo - like applesauce, but with apricots. Doodle loves it, J likes it, and we could use it to feed a small army if necessary. No scurvy in the long winter months for this family!

We also made two dehydrator-loads worth of apricot-applesauce fruit leather, which will hopefully last our frugivorous child at least partway through the winter. *fingers crossed* Oh, and we gave ~3lbs to a friend to give to another friend to make into Apricot Hefeweisen and jam.

Yes, ridiculous amounts of apricot product. I know. Want to see what the process looked like?

Half of our sink was commandeered for the apricot cleansing.

Then the cooking of the goo. Lots of goo.

My view of the pitting process, 31 weeks pregnant. Added bonus: it was dang hot in our house, so I rarely had my shirt pulled down over my belly. Good for not overheating. Bad for avoiding the occasional squirt of apricot juice in the bellybutton. Blech!

Off the deep end

As a continuation of the nuttiness, I steam-cleaned our living room carpet yesterday. Thankfully J was willing to haul all of our crap out of said living room, and then haul it all back once the carpet was dry.

Only now we're reconfiguring our living room (and thus our office as well), so stuff is strewn EVERYWHERE. Ugh. It'll be great when everything has a home and the house is clean and free of clutter. Then our beautifully cleaned carpet will be visible and I will feel successful. In the meantime, though... blech.

Full-on nutty

The crazy preggy nesting hormones have kicked into high gear. I'm no longer content to merely obsess over dishes and vacuuming. The things that I am now fixating on are of the "if I don't clean it THIS MINUTE it won't happen in the next two years" variety. Which means that announcing "Hey J, I think I'm going to mop the kitchen this morning" really means moving all but the major appliances out of the kitchen, sweeping under the shelving, and mopping all of the linoleum in our house. Including behind the toilet (remember when I said that was nutty, and I wasn't THAT BAD, YET? It's happened. It's that bad.).

And when the sponge part on the mop starts falling apart ten minutes into the project, do I stop? Hell no. I am not to be deterred. I merely switch to scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees a la Cinderella. Okay, a 30-week-pregnant-and-totally-not-going-to-the-ball Cinderella, but still. It was crazy enough that J and Doodle stood in the doorway of the kitchen taking pictures of me.

At least I'm a happy nesting pregnant lady, right? RIGHT?!

Next on the list: pickling the box of cucumbers I insisted we buy at the Gardener's Market this weekend, followed by some apricot picking and canning/dehydrating later this week. Plus some reorganizing of tupperwares and canning jars, catching up on blogging, working on thesis chapters and maybe starting Xmas-related crafting (damn you, crafty blogs that have already started the holiday craftsiness tutorials!). Only ten weeks until the due date!!!

30 weeks

We took Doodle and her friend S climbing yesterday. Photos of the awesomeness will be posted soon. But in sorting through all the photos I realized there were a few of me and my belly. Hence the 30 week bellypic update. Here ya go:

Me belaying. Photo by Doodle.

Me belaying and getting a back scratch from J. Photo by Doodle (which is why we are lucky enough to have a picture with both J and I in it - together! - for once).

Belly of Doom shot. Photo by Doodle.

Doodle running around in the bouldering area. Photo by J.

A rant on maternity clothing and what I think looks "professional"

I hate clothing shopping. I always have. One of the things I dreaded most growing up was the back to school clothing shopping, especially the search for jeans that would actually fit me. None of this has changed. But now that I have a preggy belly it's more complicated.

All I wanted was a simple, professional looking shirt to wear for my 15-minute presentation at Botany on Monday. I did manage to find a shirt that will work. However, I also came away with shocking insight into my ideas of what looks "professional," "sciency" and "serious".

Beware: major ranting ahead.

I went to Motherhood Maternity to find The Shirt. Yes, Motherhood makes cheaply-assembled crappy clothes and is overpriced. It's also pretty much the only option in Logan for anything beyond maternity t-shirts and jeans. So I sucked it up and went in there. Overbearing, overeager salesperson aside, it was not terrible. But the three rounds of trying on shirts in the dressing room, coupled with excessive scrutiny on my part, made the task really suck.

Things that I realized I didn't like about the shirt options:

• Ribbons or bows. These are inherently feminine, and thus not "professional" or "serious" enough for what I needed. Yes, I recognize this is a bullshit assumption. I know I could pull off a cute skirt with a little bow on it and still look professional. But if you lived in my head you would understand that girly does not equal serious, so ribbons are out.
• Puffy sleeves. These are both too feminine and too matronly. I have never ever ever liked puffy sleeves and am not about to start now.
• That damn elastic between the boobs and the belly that's supposed to make me look more shapely and cute? Annoying as hell. It rides up in the back, causing a Quasimodo poof between my shoulder blades while emphasizing that the shirt was really cut for someone a little more well endowed than myself. Screw that. Oh, and if you put a ribbon ON TOP of this annoying elastic? Double no from me.
  
• Pleating that shows off the belly. Yes, I'm pregnant. Yes, I'm happy to be pregnant. No, I don't want my shirt screaming "LOOK AT MY FERTILE WOMB" from 50 yards away.
• Ditto on the boob pleating. I'm trying to look "professional" and "serious," which apparently in my brain means that I must look as androgynous or close to male as possible. Males do not have boobs. Therefore shirts that draw attention to my boobs are out.

The wiring in my head that says "serious" "professional" "scientists" must look androgynous or male is totally fucked up. I realize this. I'm a woman, and I'm a scientist. I should not need to make myself look as masculine as possible in order to be taken seriously. Yet that's how things are coded in my brain - so much so that I visibly sneer at my reflection after putting on a maternity shirt that draws attention to my curves which I otherwise love so much right now. Because when I'm talking science I don't want to accentuate those things, I want to downplay them. Ugh.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I am totally fed up with myself for thinking like this, but glad that I recognize that I'm thinking like this. Where do I start with the reprogramming? How do I make it okay for myself to wear something feminine and cute AND think I still look professional. And why does it matter what anyone else thinks about what I'm wearing? Shouldn't they be paying more attention to the information I'm trying to share with them?

I was going to suggest the alternative of a professional conference in the nude, but... ummm... no. That opens up a whole nother can of worms, and I'm not ready to go there either.

Nesting already?

Those familiar with pregnancy or pregnancy-related fables know that pregnant ladies, when nearing the point of popping, start "nesting". This is a highly technical term for cleaning like crazy, which may involve things like rearranging furniture, scrubbing walls, and generally becoming way more of a neat-freak than anyone thought possible. It's thought that this is the mother's way of preparing her home (or nest) for the impending arrival of her offspring. Some women go all-out with the nesting, while others never really feel the urge to scrub behind the toilet with a toothbrush. It's highly variable.

When I was pregnant with Doodle, I didn't really have any nesting urges. Sure, I got all excited about washing and preparing widdle bitty baby clothes and diapers and stuff, but I didn't really get into the "OMG, MUST SCRUB CEILING!!!" stage.

This time, Ohhh man.

I'm barely into the third trimester. Barely. I have PLENTY of time. So what have I spent the past few days doing? Do you really want to know? Alright, here goes. I have:

• cleaned the bathroom sink
  
• purged a bunch of my clothes
• washed the walls in the bathroom (yep, here come the nutty hormones)
  
• cleaned out the microwave and toaster oven (we usually dump the crumb tray of the toaster oven once in a blue moon. Scrubbing?! Very rare.)
  
• wiped down cabinets in the kitchen (pretty uncommon for me)
  
• reorganized storage baskets in the kitchen
  
• vacuumed out a window sill in the kitchen that had accumulated leaves and dead bugs (seriously, who does this?)
  
• and scrubbed the wall and floor near our kitchen trash can. On hands and knees. Really.

I know some people are regular wall- and baseboard-washers. That's not how I was raised. In our house my mom scrubbed the nasty creases on our kitchen cabinets maybe once every couple years. Baseboards? Pssh. Life is too short for scrubbing baseboards. Yet lately my eyes are drawn to the weird little cracks and creases in our house where dust and funk accumulates, and immediately my brain starts in with "Must Remove Ickiness NOW!" Never mind that it's in a corner that nobody ever pays attention to or, like the window sill, nobody even looks in. If I notice there is a funk accumulation, it must be remedied ASAP. Which explains why J walked into the kitchen this morning to see me scrubbing the fronts of the cabinets instead of getting food together to head to school. Because OMG DIRTY CABINETS!!! MUST SCRUB!

*sigh* I swear, this is so not normal for me. The hormones have saturated my brain. I'm not sure yet if this is a good thing or not. I guess by starting now I'll get a lot of the weird, out-of-the-way cleaning done before I'm too big and unweildy to do it. But what if this lasts until October?!

Preparation

I'm in the last trimester of this pregnancy. I'm feeling great. But a nagging voice has started up in the back of my brain. "You need to prepare," it keeps saying. Prepare what? We already have diapers, we're not changing around any sleeping arrangements for now, and I've done this before (the whole giving birth thing). What do I need to prepare?

I don't know. But I need to prepare something.

I feel like I've been totally slacking in the pregnancy front. I haven't been reading up on birth options, or breastfeeding, or cloth diaper choices, or the bazillion other things I researched while pregnant with Doodle. I haven't read any of the labor and birth books on our bookshelf that I poured over last time around. I haven't even pulled out my prenatal yoga dvd yet.

What HAVE I been doing?

Well, I've been writing and rewriting drafts of my thesis. I've started putting together my presentation for the Botany conference in a couple of weeks. I've done laundry, dishes, vacuuming, sewing, some cleaning, some wall scrubbing, and lots and lots of food prep. I've traveled to SoCal and EWa to visit family and celebrate with them. I've trudged through the long drives associated with the family visits. Best of all, I've been playing with my Doodle: embracing the imaginary play, dancing to Metallica, filling up the wading pool, coloring on the sidewalk, and loving the moments of "Mama, I love you" and "Mama, come cuddle".

I may not be filling my brain constantly with the latest research on newborn eye drops or the merits of certain diapers, but I am certainly filling my days. And this feels like what I should be doing right now.