Birth Story

Sixteen day old Rose is asleep in her bassinet and life has completely changed for the best possible reason. Being a mother is an absolute joy, but before I get too caught up in it I wanted to record the birth story before it all becomes a blur.

Sixteen days ago (Sunday August 9th) I had spent the morning tidying and feeling very pregnant. My bump was making it difficult to sleep and I kept waking myself up because I was on my back. On the Saturday, we had enjoyed a walk along the river and spent the evening clearing and organizing the basement. I apparently wasn't happy to just sit on the couch. (I was planing to do that in the last two weeks of my pregnancy!) Sunday rolled around. Lunchtime rolled around and I saw an afternoon was lazing ahead of me, lay down on the couch and felt liquid coming out of me - liquid I apparently couldn't control. I sprang up. Running up the stairs, desperately clenching my pelvic floor, Brent called out "there's some on the couch." I immediately thought - or wanted to believe - that it was just pee. More kept coming and I made a hilarious attempt to collect it in a new contact lens case.

We both sat in the bedroom and nervously discussed our choices. Both of us were sure it was just pee - though I was pretty sue it was coming out of the wrong hole. The doc also was sure it was just pee, but sent us to the hospital anyway. Just in case. Cue some desperate bag packing and deep breathes. At the hospital, I was examined and immediately told I was in labour. What. My mind just kept repeating oh shit oh shit oh shit. There's no way you can be ready, but I certainly wasn't ready.

Because my water had broken, or membrane had ruptured in doctor speak, it was important to get things moving quickly. My doc gave me three options for induction which I couldn't really take in. I ended up with the drug pitocin and a catheter I was sure they were calling a volleyball - turned out to be a Folley Bulb. Five hours in and nothing was hurting too badly. My doc arrived andchecked me - I think I was three cm. He upped the pitocin and removed the bulb, things began to hurt. They kept asking me one scale of 1 - 10 where is your pain. I had no idea as I hadn't really experienced much pain before. The contractions felt like period pain intensified. I found bending over, warm rice on my lower back and my darling husband counting one thousand and one one thousand and two, one thousand and three helped a lot. It got pretty bad - I wanted to get a taste of what it could feel like - and I asked for the epidural. That magical thing came and for the next 10 hours I read and slept. Nobody had told me that was possible. Our calm nurse, Vanessa, kept coming in and checking vitals, moving the monitors, asking if I wanted anything. I was calm and happy, something I really did not expect.

At 4. 45am on August 10th 2009, the beautiful resident came in checked me. She could not feel my cervix, my doc came to double check and confirmed. It was time to push. I started to shake. This was real. There were some tears. The pushing scared me, with the epidural I could feel a growing sensation of the contraction, but struggled to know exactly when to push. Pushing itself was hard because I really wasn't sure where I was pushing. I felt relieved when I was told that was an "awesome push, whatever you did there do it again" or "great job". I was lying there clueless. Unfortunately this experience went on for three hours. About two hours in I was told another 15 minutes. That gave me a goal that quickly went and I started to get frustrated and tired. Turns out that the baby was the wrong way up and had got stuck on my pelvic bone. I don;t know how close I was to being taken for a C Section. There was a lot of discussions happening out in the hallway. Finally, however, a few huge pushes and some help from the vacuum, Rose popped out.

She was immediately laid out on my stomach. She was slimy with white and red liquid, but I started stroking and talking to my little girl. She started to cry and for a few moments the whole family was crying. At the moment of her birth four or five extra people entered the room and she was whisked away for her tests and tidy. She came back bundled and beautiful. We had a perfect, healthy daughter.

I look back on my labour with fond memories! The pushing was, without doubt, the most uncomfortable, frustrating part, but I certainly didn't hate any moment of the nineteen hour epic. The following two days were spent on the post-partum floor. Breastfeeding was tough, but we had a super nurse who got us going - at least while in the hospital. It is clear that labour is really not the difficult part - the hard stuff comes after. You have a baby to look after.

Health-care La La Land

The Obama administration is attempting to reform America's health care system. How they plan to do this is highly complex and downright confusing. No matter how many articles, charts, and graphics I attempt to understand, I still emerged perplexed. I'm pretty sure that the bottom line is to provide insurance to all Americans though a number of convoluted programs. This costs money and threatens the health insurance tsars in charge of the current ridiculous system. An elderly lady was turned away because the doctor's office this week because the practice did not accept her insurance. If she has insurance, she should to have access to see a doctor at any office - isn't that a fundamental right?

Now, however, the debate has gone completely into la-la land. Instead of focusing on getting the reform passed, the media is filled with stories and videos of protesters heckling politicians in health-care reform town hall meetings. The protesters appear to be republican-backed citizens focused on stopping any kind of reform. Why they don't want the reform is very difficult to determine. The news paper articles don't seem to be explaining the protesters motives, instead they detail the shouting and fighting. Great. Many people are claiming that the protesters are being controlled by republican lobbying firms. So it is all, again, political bullshit and the media is playing into there hands. Why give these people any press? Why can't we focus on what is important - educating people on what the reform is actually trying to do and not sensationalize the actions of a few emotionally charged republicans? It would be a depressing if the reform fails because of these dirty tactics. Surely the Obama administration and the politicians driving the reform is strong enough to resist these attacks. Why are the important bottom lines always lost in the bullshit and why do people listen to the bullshit?

Some commentators are saying the motives driving the protesters is racism. The protesters are predominantly white and the people set to gain the most from the reform (the uninsured) are not white. If this is true then the whole situation dives even deeper into la-la land. Who, in their right mind, would begrudge anyone having access to medical care whatever color their skin happens to be? But again this gets back to the fact that it is so difficult to actually discover the real motives of these folks in the media. Maybe I just need to look harder - but why should I have to do that? Shouldn't their motives be clear?

Back to things I can actually control. Our interaction with the health care system has been equally as complex this week. I have seen my doctor twice this week and had my fifth ultrasound. On Monday, my check-up showed me to be measuring slightly small again (but my sneaking suspicion is my doctors had the wrong dates in his head) and I was advised to have 5 - 6 hours of rest a day and avoid unnecessary activity. I had planned to go to the zoo the next day and stupidly told him so. He advised me not to go. I went anyway - I think my doctor is being a little too careful. On Thursday, I went to the ultrasound. It showed her to be in the 57% percentile for size (7 pounds and 1 ounce for 37 weeks and 5 days). She is absolutely fine.

Finally, yesterday we met with the doctor again to discuss labour and delivery. He is a proponent of early induction to reduce the risk of C-section. A wonderful idea that means a very long, painful and highly medicated labour. We talked it though and our bottom line is not before Mum arrives. I would not be forgiven if we scheduled the birth before her arrival. We did, however, discuss August 25th as a potential induction date if she is still hanging out in there. I would be happy for that to happen. However, for the past 24 hours my BH contractions have been increasingly more frequent and powerful. I have had some cramping and a definite increase in discomfort. I don't know whether she is going to be happy to stay put until the 25th! Whatever happens I can't wait - though considering the tiny level of discomfort I'm feeling right now, this birth thing is going to hurt like a mother f****r.

The Male is Away

My husband left this morning for a three day trip to New Mexico. A few weeks ago I flipped at the thought of him leaving this close to D-day, which was incredibly unfair as I was supportive when he booked it. You have to love these hormones. Chances of my going into labour in the next two days are minimal. I am, however, feeling incredibly big and increasingly uncomfortable and doing normal things like walking the dog is like being asked to run 5K without training. I have a bowling ball in my belly. My swollen feet are doing an excellent impersonation of two flat-fish. My rings are stuck. Emotionally, though, I am still pretty upbeat.

Against doctor's orders, I went to the zoo this morning. They supply teachers with free passes in the summer months - apparently 34,000 teachers signed up for the program. Somehow I don't think the zoo will be getting 34,000 field trip bookings. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it and felt a particular connection to the pregnant/new mother animals. Firstly, the female orangutan had decided she was not coming out today - they believe she may be pregnant. I know how she feels. Also, the natural instinct to keep the little ones free from germs was on view at the otter enclosure. A new sea otter Mum was furiously cleaning the bums of her four newborns as we went passed. That will be me, but with nappy cream and not my tongue!

I got home, though, and crashed out. There was a half-hour nap on one couch, a move to another room, and then a half-hour nap on the other couch. Pregnant women are just like the animals at the zoo, an average of 20 hours of sleep is needed for us to function. I'm embracing my inner animal, especially while the male is away.

Skyping and big reading

Skype is something I am not yet comfortable with yet. Today, there have been two grandmother-to-be sykpe conversations. Well, less conversations and more belly showings. There is something very off putting at going from the comfortable faceless world of phone calls to the all-out-there-to-view Skype call. You really shouldn't feel you have to brush your hair before you ring your brother, should you? I find it hard to talk to the person while there I am staring back at me on a little screen. The conversation is always so stilted and frequently comes to a complete standstill as the monitor is adjusted and heads are centered. Also, my family haven't quite been able to get the sound to work on their end so we both have mobile phones to our ears anyway, or have been known to resort to writing notes to each other, some of them backwards, and holding them up to the screen. But, I'm sure as I use it I will learn to love it. There is something lovely about being able to see my familia - I haven;t been home since Christmas so I'm feeling a little England-homesick. Plus, with the baby coming it will be perfect we can stick her up to the camera and everyone can coo. I don't have to be on screen at all.

I have taken it upon myself to read the BBC's list of top 100 books by the time I am 35. I have read 27 of them so far and about 8 of those are Roald Dahl books. (It is a very British list.) I'm quite disappointed at my starting number, though I guess I got into this reading game late. I am currently in the final act of The Woman in White. Who killed Anne Catherick? What is Glyde's secret? Will Laura survive? I'm wallowing in the intricateness nature of the plot and the differing narrative voices. Mr. Fairlie is the most poisonous character I've come across in a long time. It is refreshing to be taken on such a convuluted, lengthy story. It is also perfect for my pining for all things British. I'm going to get back to it right now, while my dearest husband fixes a decidedly non-British dinner of ribs, corn bread, corn and beans.