Archive for the ‘babies’ Category

Sage’s Birth Story: Part Two

October 2nd, 2011

Now we come to the part of my labor which was not so light, where instead of feeling grounded and present I felt like I was falling apart at the seams. The contractions were very intense now, and close together. I felt like I was breaking, and couldn’t hold it together. I just wanted to cry. I needed far more support from Bryan and Shell than I had needed with my first labor. I tried to push with contractions, but still didn’t feel like anything was happening. At this point the physical pain seemed unbearable, but looking back (and I think I recognized this a little bit in the moment as well), even with as intense as the physical pain was the real struggle was with my psyche…it was emotional.

I felt weak, scared and tired. I didn’t feel like “one tough mamma.” Shell kept saying, “you’re so strong.” But, I didn’t believe her, I couldn’t believe her. I didn’t feel strong. I felt weak, in fact I felt all of the weaknesses and inadequacies that I’d wrestled with ever since becoming a mother two years ago come rushing over me. I felt like I couldn’t do it… and so I couldn’t. I didn’t really want to push her out. I was scared of feeling “that pain” again. I was scared of bleeding too much (as I had with Thaddeus). I was scared that she would be just as difficult as Thad was and scared that I wouldn’t be able to handle having two kids. I was scared that the pain was going to continue forever and just wanted it to be over, but I didn’t want to go through the only door that would make the pain stop.

Finally, I muttered out something about feeling discouraged. Shell decided to do an internal to see what was going on. I remember her putting her fingers against my coccyx on the inside and telling me that was where the baby needed to go, that I needed to push the baby into that space. I knew she was right and I tried to do what she was asking, but it was a half hearted attempt. As soon as she had touched that area I was flooded with the muscle memory of Thad’s birth, I remembered that spot and the pain it took to push Thad past it (Thad had gotten stuck at my coccyx since it hadn’t moved out of the way like it should have, Shell had to pull it out of the way and we are pretty sure I either broke or bruised it during that labor). The memory of that felt so tangible and I couldn’t bring myself to push past it.

It was at this point that Shell suggested we do something she called “the rotisserie” and took a moment to describe it to us. Basically the laboring women lays on her back for a contraction or two pushing her lower back into the floor then turns to lay on her side with her top leg bent and bottom leg relatively stretched out for a contraction or two and then on hands and knees for a contraction or two and then on the other side for a contraction or two and then back to her back for a contraction or two.

We did two rotations this way. I have never known pain like that. It was beyond intense, it was unbearable. I remember kind of hating Shell in that moment for making me do this. Normally I deal with contractions with a fair amount of movement so having to be in one position the whole contraction was excruciating and the fact that most of those positions were not comfortable positions for me made it extra hard.

During my last rotation Shell turned the water on in the bath and started filling it up, I can’t really explain the feeling I felt when I heard that tub turn on. On the one hand I was sort of ecstatic thinking that the end of the rotisserie must be soon and imagining how nice the water would feel. I spent almost all of my labor with Thad in the tub and felt such relief from that. Earlier in labor the tub had come up – I think my sister asked if I was going to use it – and I hesitated and didn’t really know how to answer. Shell said something about how it seemed I wanted to see which came first if I reached my breaking point or if the baby came. I remember thinking she was exactly right.

As I did that rotisserie and heard the tub filling up I knew I had reached my breaking point and it was time for the tub – really I felt like I had reached my breaking point long before this and was just so far past the breaking point as to be completely desperate by this time. I was also angry as the tub filled up though, because I just wanted to get in it right then, and Shell asked me to do another set on my back and on my side – I remember feeling really angry in that moment. I didn’t want to do any more. I wanted to get in the tub. I didn’t think I was capable of doing any more – I was already broken into pieces, there wasn’t any strength left. But, then I did it. When I thought that I was completely unable to, when I thought I had no strength left, when I thought I was already broken as far as I could be…I did it. I broke more. And even without strength I pressed through…screamed through, but made it.

When I finally got in the tub it was such a relief, but things were still moving pretty fast and intense. I remember the water felt like it was really cold to me, even though Shell and Bryan kept telling me that it was plenty warm. I shivered and turned on the hot anyway.

By this point I really wanted it over. I pushed a bit in the tub, but quickly felt like I had to pooh. I got out and went to the toilet. I poohed a little and worked through a contraction on the toilet and then it hit… My bottom split open – or at least that’s what it felt like. I jumped off the toilet and cried out “she’s coming!” Bryan had just then gone to get me more water, so Shell hollered for him to come back and he was there a second later. It was then that I really started to push.

I reached up to feel the head as I had with Thaddeus. It felt so different, so smooth, I was a little freaked out at first. It wasn’t until later that I realized what I was feeling wasn’t exactly the head – it was the head still wrapped in the membranes since my waters hadn’t broken yet.

I squatted in a sort of half kneeling half squatting position and pushed, Shell and Bryan pushed in on my hips from either side. I pushed more. There was a popping feeling and sound as my waters broke. It was 3:22am. I pushed more and reached down (Shell said I actually pushed her hands out of the way, but I don’t totally remember that) what I do remember is Bryan and I together catching our beautiful little girl. She was born at 3:25am on labor day, September 5th. She had her hand up by her ear and her chin tilted up instead of tucked down, which explained some of why the pain had been so intense.

I laid her down on the floor in front of me and waited a minute or two till I was feeling like I was back in my body and ready to pick her up. I held her for a moment, but felt pretty shaky and laid her back down in front of me as Shell gave me a shot of pitocin (we had decided to do pitocin right away after the birth since we had some concerns about hemorrhaging). Shell also gave me a drink of Chinese herbs after the shot.

After the cord had stopped pulsating we cut the cord. I remember asking Shell about waiting till I delivered the placenta and having her tell me with a little bit of urgency in her voice that she wanted to get it cut and me laying down. She showed me the cord then and it had clearly stopped pulsating so Bryan went ahead and cut it. Shell then had me lay down with the baby on my chest/belly. Bryan and Shell both kept telling me to look at them and keep my eyes open, which I remember being really annoyed with because I thought I felt fine… just tired. I remember thinking, “It’s all over now so why can’t I just rest for a second?” I also remember feeling a lot of pressure from the placenta and feeling so relieved when it was delivered. Shell said something about it coming out a different way from normal, something about how placentas coming out that way are more commonly low laying in the uterus.

Bryan was asking me what song was playing on the playlist, it was A Thankful Heart, which was the first song that had played from the playlist back at the beginning of my labor. He kept telling me to keep my eyes open and I still felt annoyed. By this point I couldn’t stop shaking, which is not uncommon for women after birth. Shell gave me some oxygen and kept asking “are you with us? Bethany! Look at me.” I guess I must have looked much worse than I felt.

Shell checked me out and told us my bleeding was really light (a big relief), she also told us I didn’t need any stitches (of course that was also a relief). I think she checked my heart rate and blood pressure as well and all was normal. She told us that physically I was perfectly fine. Nothing was wrong with me. But, she and Bryan still seemed worried about me and wouldn’t let me close my eyes. For the next little bit they seemed to focus on keeping me from passing out. Bryan brought me a couple of spoonfuls of raw honey and that seemed to really help. Once I started to feel a bit better I really wanted to sit up since my back hurt and I still felt pressure while laying on it.

I sat up, leaning against the bathroom cabinets and held Sage. It was the first time I really truly looked at her. Bryan sat next to me and we both just stared at her. It was a really sweet moment for all of us and I was glad that we were able to enjoy that time for a little while. I nursed Sage a little, but she wasn’t all that interested. I remember Shell telling us that the song that had been playing when Sage was born was “Hey Jude” – I hadn’t even noticed.

After a bit, Shell took Sage to look her over and weight her. It was about then that Brie came in carrying Thaddeus. Thad cuddled up to me and together, with Bryan next to us, we all watched as Shell checked Sage out.

She weighed 5 pounds 15 ounces and was 18.5 inches long. Shell guessed by her reflexes and size that she was actually about 38.5 weeks gestation (we had already been speculating that my original estimated due date was wrong and this confirmed it). She was a tiny little one, but healthy and strong with the most beautiful rudy coloring.

After Shell was done I got cleaned up and crawled into bed with Sage. Shell took a short nap before checking us out again and heading home to get some rest. Bryan got Thad breakfast and played with him. And thus began our very long first day as a family of four.

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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Sage’s Birth Story: Part One

October 1st, 2011

The Sunday I went into labor felt like a long day. I had spent the week before crying multiple times a day over a variety of things. The Friday before the birth my mom left for the Philippines to be with my brother and sister-in-law as their baby was in the hospital and they were still trying to figure out what was wrong. Saturday we had a nice day and my dad cooked us a wonderful dinner. Sunday morning my dad left for a business trip to Costa Rica. I spent most of Sunday feeling discouraged and down, even though Bryan and I were able to spend some nice time together during the day and we had a really nice family outing to the library in the afternoon.

I remember crying at the library. I checked email on the ipad while there and I got a really sweet and encouraging message from my friend, Melissa. In a moment when I was feeling especially discouraged about still being pregnant (I was a week past my estimated due date) she told me she was proud of me and wrote this “So today, instead of saying when is this baby going to get here?! I want you to say ‘I am one tough mama, I can handle this!! I can be patient for nature. Not everyone does this and I am proud of myself for waiting it out!!’ and give yourself a nice pat on the back. Or just pat your belly if that is easier.” It made me smile and then cry. And it made me feel a little better too. Little did I know how much I would need to hear, and remember her words that I was one tough momma in the hours to come.

My labor really got started Sunday evening around 6pm. I’d been having contractions steadily all afternoon, but they weren’t really labor contractions, they were just the same tightening feeling that I’d been having since I was about 20 weeks pregnant. But, around 6pm things changed, these contractions were different, they felt like labor. Suddenly as I felt them I remembered, really remembered, my first birth in a whole new way.

I continued having regular labor contractions as I made dinner and put Thaddeus to bed. When a contraction would hit I’d just lean over against the counter and do what I needed to do to deal with it and then go back to making dinner. We had a broccoli and green bean pasta for dinner. Bryan and I split a beer and toasted to the baby being born soon.

Dealing with the contractions got a little harder while putting Thad to sleep as they got more intense while I was nursing him. Thankfully he fell asleep quickly and I only had to work through two or three contractions while putting him to bed.

After Thad was asleep we called our midwife, Shell, and gave her a heads up about what was going on. Then I had some chocolate crème brûlée that my dad had made the night before and we tried to watch some tv. That didn’t last long.

It was getting later and things were moving along well so we started getting some stuff ready – moving birth supplies into the bedroom, changing the sheets on the bed, etc. We put on the playlist of songs I had made for the birth and danced our way through a few contractions. Shell called back to see how things were going and told us she was on her way. We called my sister and asked her to come be with Thad in case he woke up. We texted my mom (since we knew she was up any way because of the time difference in Cebu) and I sent off a quick email to some close friends who had agreed to pray with me throughout the last few weeks of pregnancy.

When Shell got here she started setting up her stuff, and helped me through a few contractions. Then we all moved out into the kitchen. Shell had one of dad’s crème brûlée’s and a coffee. Bryan and I had some tea and we all just sat and talked in-between contractions. Shell shared stories with us that made us laugh. (She really should write her memoirs some day – I know I would love to read that!)

Soon Brie arrived and joined us for a crème brûlée of her own and plenty of her own energy and talkativeness. The contractions at this point were difficult but manageable and Shell kept saying “I think you’ll be surprised. I think your farther along then you think you are.” which was of course an encouraging thing to hear.

After everyone had finished their desert and drinks we moved back into the bedroom and Shell did an internal exam – more for the opportunity to turn the baby since she was still posterior than to find out how dilated I was, but it was encouraging when she told us that my cervix was dilated to a five on it’s own but could easily stretch to an eight. My sister asked something about how much longer Shell thought it would be and Shell said something to the extent of it being up to me, that my cervix wasn’t really the issue, and it would quickly open and stretch as it needed to once I was ready and about how it was going to be more about me being ready and not afraid to push…or something like that. It was getting harder for me to concentrate at this point.

After I was checked Brie and Bryan started laying down the plastic floor covering stuff that we got to protect the carpet (my dad was worried we’d ruin the carpet in his bathroom again, like we had when my son was born). The stuff we got this time had adhesive on one side so it actually stuck to the carpet and didn’t slide around. It worked really well. My sister got really into the job of covering the carpet and even made a little “run way” from where I was laboring on the floor in the bedroom to the bathroom. It even had an arrow in the middle made out of duct tape. We all got a little chuckle out of it.

It was nice to laugh during labor – my labor with Thaddeus had been really, intense and heavy and even contemplative. Up to this point in my labor with Sage things were much lighter, more relaxed, and I felt much more present and grounded.

Once we moved into the bathroom with everything all set up I hit what I’m going to call the peeing stage of my labor. By this point the baby was very low in my pelvis and putting a lot of pressure on my bladder. For a while this was the pattern that was my reality – have a contraction, go to the toilet and pee, come back out, feel thirsty and have something to drink, have another contraction, get up again to pee, again have something to drink. It went on like this with me peeing about every two minutes for quite a while.

Then things slowed down a bit. I remember my sister asking numerous times “what are we waiting for?” and looking at her phone. I remember her asking Shell how much longer she thought it would be and how far along she thought I was now. I didn’t realize it at first but her anxiety and desire for it to be over started rubbing off on me. I was the one who really wanted it to be over, I was the one working through the pain every few minutes! My stress level rose.

I remember telling them that I felt a lot of pressure (which isn’t surprising since the baby was very low by now) and that I kind of wanted to push but didn’t really feel ready. Shell told me if I wanted to push I could try and that if I wasn’t ready it wouldn’t really do anything. For the next few contractions I pushed. Shell listened to the babies heart rate, which sounded great. The pushing felt nice with the contractions, but it didn’t really do anything.

I started to feel discouraged as Brie asked again “what are we waiting for”. There started to be longer distances between contractions. I remember during a particularly long break between contractions I thought to myself “you need to ask brie to leave” it was clear as day and I knew it was what I needed for everything to pick back up again. But I wrestled with telling her for what felt like a mini-eternity. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, I knew she had said she really wanted to be at the birth. I had planned on having her video the birth and take pictures (as long as Thad didn’t wake up), since I was always a little sad that I didn’t have video/pictures of Thad’s birth. Would brie take it the wrong way, or would she understand? I struggled with these things for a while, but I knew I had to ask her to leave. So, I asked her to go, and she did, and pretty much immediately things picked up again.

…. check back tomorrow for the rest of the story…

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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My Milksharing Experience

September 30th, 2011

This week is world milksharing week. Milk sharing is something that I never really thought of until I had a child. Honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind as a possibility or as something people did – which is weird since it really wasn’t that long ago that women sharing breast milk with one another and nursing each others babies would have been a normal part of society (think wet nurses).

I have to admit that even when I first realized that this was an option instead of formula I still felt a little strange about it. I mean I thought it was great and definitely supported women milk sharing, but when I thought about someone else nursing my child or giving my child someone else’s breast milk, well, then I felt a little strange about it. It felt a bit weird to me. I remember when my son was just a few months old talking with a friend about it and about how we would feel having someone else nurse our baby, or giving our baby someone else’s milk. I remember thinking that donor milk is probably the choice I would make if I ever needed to supplement for some reason, but I also remember thinking that I would probably feel a little uncomfortable about it.

But, when I actually had the opportunity to experience another women nursing my baby I felt none of the discomfort that I thought I would feel. In fact it felt like the most natural, normal thing in the world. You see when my daughter was born just three weeks ago she struggled with weight gain. When she was just three days old she had lost 12% of her birth weight and weighed only 5 pounds 2 ounces. Our midwife recommended supplementing with donor milk if my milk didn’t come in by that night. Well, it didn’t (in fact my milk didn’t come in until late in the day on day five). So, I called a friend and she came over right away with some frozen breast milk for us. While she was here she nursed baby Sage. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, I felt relieved and grateful, loved and cared for by a friend and fellow mommy. This simple act, that cost my friend very little, made me feel truly supported during the fragile first days that are the postpartum experience. I will always remember her generosity with gratitude and deep thankfulness.

I think the fact that I hadn’t really heard of milk sharing as a viable option for supplementation until about two years ago, and the fact that I at first felt an underlying sense of discomfort in the idea, even though I support it theoretically, just goes to show what a great job formula companies have done convincing us that their way is normal and best, instead of the more natural way that women have been dealing with things for centuries, through sisters and aunts and friends sharing the breast milk they had in a abundance with those who needed it.

That is why i think events like world milk sharing week are so important. We need women to speak out and help normalize milk sharing so that mothers recognize donor milk as an option for supplementation. So that no women thinks that formula is her ONLY choice. And we need women to talk about their own experience with milk sharing so

that we can begin to normalize societal feelings about milk sharing. I will never forget my own personal experience with donor milk and milk sharing and how significant and helpful it was for me and my daughter. I am so glad that I called that friend and didn’t let my discomfort in asking her to help me, or my uncertainty about how I would feel about it, get in the way. It was truly a beautiful gift that she gave my daughter and I am nothing but grateful.

Rejoicing in the journey -

Bethany Stedman

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Co-sleeping and Night Time Parenting

March 31st, 2011

For months now I’ve been writing a post in my head about why we eventually choose to co-sleep. I wanted to write about why I struggled with that decision, why I eventually decided it was the best thing for our family, and about the relief, rest and sanity that it’s brought to me. I wanted to write about why I now would never consider doing anything else with my future children and why I would encourage others to co-sleep as well. Maybe someday I’ll still write that post… but today I want to share with you another post, a post that made me cry, a post that I connected with so much I could have written it.

Connected Mom writes this beautiful post about Four Lies Sleep Trainers Tell You (And One Truth They Won’t!)

If you’ve ever struggled with a baby who just won’t sleep the way “they” tell you that your baby “should”, well, I encourage you to read this post.

I want to close by sharing a poem that Connect Mom shared at the end of her post. I thought this was absolutely beautiful, and inspiring, and SO encouraging! This is for all you mama’s out there who, like me, continue to struggle through sleep deprivation.

Selflessness

Everything which endures can

only do so because Eternal

Consciousness gives it a sentience.

A mother who gives herself

completely to her infant meets

herself in the dark and finds

fulfillment.

In the hours between midnight

and dawn, she crosses the

threshold of self-concern and

discovers a Self that has no limits.

A wise mother meets this

Presence with humility and steps

through time into selflessness.

Infants know when their mothers

have done this, and they

become peaceful.

Who, then, is the doer? Is it the

infant who brings its mother

through the veil of self-concern

into limitlessness? Is it the

mother, who chooses to hold

sacred her infant’s needs and

surrender herself? Or is it the

One, which weaves them both

through a spiraling path

toward wholeness?

You can sit and meditate while

your baby cries himself to sleep.

Or you can go to him and share

his tears, and find your Self.

By Vimala McClure, from The Tao of Motherhood

Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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With My Baby Close to My Heart, I Babywear

October 8th, 2010

With my baby close to my heart, I walk the street.
With my baby close to my heart, I fold the laundry.
With my baby close to my heart, I eat a sandwich.
With my baby close to my heart, I pick up the toys,
singing all the while.
With my baby close enough to kiss, he nurses.
With my baby close enough to kiss, he dreams.
With my baby close enough to kiss, he coos,
and I smile.
With my baby close to my heart, he is at peace.
With my baby close enough to kiss, I am free.
I wear my baby close to my heart.
I wear my baby close enough to kiss.

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This week is International Babywearing Week. Happy Babywearing, friends!!

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Check out these links for more information about babywearing and International Babywearing Week:

Code Name: Mama writes a great overview about babywearing and International Babywearing Week.

Here is a Scientific paper written by Dr. Mara Blois all about the benefits of babywearing.

When the Watchdog Goes Awry: The CPSC’s Misguided Assault on Slings is a helpful article explaining the CPSC’s recall of sling baby carriers.

This post gives great information on babywearing safety and also wonderfully helpful recommendations on which baby carriers are best.

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Rejoicing in the journey -
Bethany Stedman

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