A Response to a Friend: Labor, Delivery, and Breastfeeding

A facebook friend wrote me about yesterday's blog post: "Hello, I personally am glad you wrote that blog. I am so scared and the more I think about it the scarier it becomes. When I read what you wrote it helped me relax a little bit and think maybe I can do this. Your little girl is so precious!! I am excited for the next step in this wonderful journey and yet I am still scared a little bit when it comes to being able to feed him naturally. So if you have any more helpful tips or tricks sharing them helped me I could only imagine how someone else feels. Thank you! and Congrats to you and Colin on Margo."

I thought my response could be helpful to more people as well :) 

Wow, I'm so glad you found this helpful. I too was terrified of labor and delivery for a really long time. I read a book called "Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Natural Childbirth" and it changed EVERYTHING. I honestly didn't know if I wanted to do things naturally at that point, but wanted to know about all the comfort methods and have as much prep as possible. The best part of that book is the first third. It is FILLED with positive birthing stories. Some of them are pretty insane. Like, I've heard of at LEAST 3 people birthing breech babies on their own at home naturally and with little pain... in fact, one of those stories was from a close friend that lives in Germany and even had her cord come out first. The baby (Amara) is perfectly healthy. Our bodies are crazy amazing. It's just a perspective shift from the American medical system.

In the traditional American hospital, Epidurals and Pitocin are almost always used. They do this to make labor as fast and painless as possible. Honestly, if all goes as expected, I would imagine it to be a pretty sweet gig in the moment. The problems come after. Because you can't feel how to push, it usually takes a lot longer and tearing, episiotomy, or forceps/vaccum are used frequently. This makes recovery longer for you.

Here are some suggestions on how to make things easier (feel free to ignore any and everything lol).

Have a birth plan and keep it simple. Think about it as a thesis. Ours was "We would like as natural and peaceful birth as possible, but are open to suggestions. If natural comfort measures are not sufficient, we would like the freedom to request speedy medical intervention."

Think of contractions on levels of intensity, not pain. They are like waves that you are surfing. The intensity will crest and then you can rest.

I made notecards with positive affirmations on them to remind me of all the things that I knew to be true but might not remember if concentrating on other things. They are pretty hippie, but seriously so helpful. My favorite was "my labor cannot be stronger than me, because it is my body doing it." You can find some great ones here and here: http://desertbirthandwellness.com/pregnancy-and-birth-affirmations/ http://www.positivebirthstories.com/affirmations/

For the labor Coach: bring a book, get sleep, count her through contractions so that she can focus on breathing, repeat positive affirmations (you're getting there, you're doing great, you're so beautiful, you'll meet her soon, you're progressing), when she is about to push: remind her that she is almost done and her body will feel better when she pushes. Contractions slow down and pushing feels good.

Breastfeeding: I've been so lucky to have a really easy time with it. When your milk comes in, it's pretty uncomfortable. Keep nursing through it, and believe it or not, cold cabbage on the breast helps a TON. I have has zero nipple pain, which I feel like a lot of people talk about. Margo must just have a wicked solid latch. If your hospital has a lactation consultant, get them there as close to delivery as possible to start off on the right foot. I personally love the "football" hold. They can tell you about it. It makes it super easy to control both your baby's head and your breast at the same time. You WILL need both hands at the beginning, so don't expect to be able to have a hand free. We watched a DVD called "Simply Breastfeeding" that was super informative if not all that exciting.

Feel free to ask me any questions if you have them. Everything is still really fresh in my mind.

Labor and Delivery: 9 Days Later

It started at 5:00. I was waiting for Teaching Pool (my church group that meets to help whoever is preaching process the scripture for that week's sermon) to start and felt fairly rhythmic contractions that started in my back. I felt like things were happening, but I could talk through them and concentrate on the conversation. When I got home, Colin had made steak and veggies for dinner. After eating, we went on a walk around the Huntington University lake (about a mile). I bounced on the yoga ball, took a warm shower, and tried to relax in the nursery as contractions intensified and began timing them. I thought they were pretty bad (I had no idea) and was having some difficulty talking through them. I began my breathing techniques and found that “dancing” or swaying through them helped with the pain. I wouldn’t allow myself to call it pain. I tried to think of them as an interesting sensation and spoke about them in terms of intensity rather than hurt.

At about 1:00 I called the hospital to see if I should come in since I was timing contractions at 50 seconds and 2 minutes apart. Dr. Harrison, the doctor on call, said that I could come in or wait a little while if I wanted to try to have a natural birth (the less time at the hospital, the less chances of medical intervention). Colin ran to the store to pick up miso soup so that I could have something to eat that still fit the clear liquid diet I would be on if I was in active labor. When he returned, it was about 2:00 and we packed the car and headed to the hospital.

I was admitted to our room (103) and contractions continued to intensify. I was calling them 6s and 7s out of 10 on the hospital pain scale. The nurse checked my cervix and said I was only 2 cm dilated. I was crushed. I asked to take a shower to help cope with the contractions and hope that it would also release more oxytocin and speed up labor. After an hour in the shower, I hobbled back to the bed and continued to breathe through the contractions. Colin helped by counting me through them as we tried to play cards and watch shows on Netflix. I was too distracted and getting exhausted. I’m not sure what time this was, but I think it would have to be about 6:00am. I was told my obstetrician Dr. Stamm would come check on me about 9:00, but he had a C-section and didn’t make it. The nurse said he would be by at about 11:00. I was pretty discouraged about it because my pain was getting much worse and I was making no progress in dilation. I had decided that I wanted him to break my water to try to get things moving along.

By 11:00 contractions were so intense, and I was so exhausted that I no longer felt that a natural birth would be peaceful. I resigned myself to a medical birth without too much disappointment, as I knew that things would go much more smoothly if I could get some rest. At this point, I had been in labor for 18 hours and hadn’t had sleep in 26.

11:00 came and went with no sign of my OB. He had another C-section and I would have to wait until 2:00 for him to come. I still had only dilated to 3-4cm. I was crushed. Colin kept helping me count through the contractions, but I was losing it. I felt hopeless.

Finally, Dr. Stamm was able to leave the OR and visit me. He approved an epidural and the anesthetist arrived promptly. Getting the epidural did not hurt at all, however, I experienced some “shocks” that I wasn’t supposed to that made my left leg bounce around uncontrollably. I could still feel my contractions although my legs were completely numb and heavy. Even having my legs numb did help a lot since I have restless leg syndrome and couldn’t get any rest between contractions because of that discomfort. They kept giving me bolsters since the epidural wasn’t touching my contractions and tried to convince me that it was going to work.

I slept between contractions for about an hour before I consented to Pitocin under the impression that the epidural would balance them out if I could just get enough medicine. Apparently, the epidural only ever really took in my legs… specifically my left leg. Every bolster just went there. It was my worst fear: Pitocin without an epidural.

At that point, I had resigned myself to a medical labor and was no longer prepared mentally for the intensity of the contractions. Especially considering I was having both natural contractions and artificial Pitocin contractions back to back. A normal contraction feels like an ocean wave, and before Pitocin, I knew that at some point, it would peak and begin to decrease. Pitocin feels like a surprise shove into that ocean. I would have a minute to minute and a half long artificial contraction followed by a minute long natural one with about a minute break between. Colin was trying to count me through them, but I could no longer focus. I began to shake uncontrollably and had a small panic attack where I didn’t think that I could breathe although my oxygen levels were normal. Colin told me to squeeze his finger as hard as I could, and it actually made the shaking stop. I toyed with the idea of asking them to take me off the Pitocin, but also wanted to whole thing to be over as soon as possible. I stuck it out, more because I couldn’t speak during the contractions and needed to breathe between them. I could tell that I was making HUGE progress, but because it had been so slow moving the nurse was hesitant to check me.

At about 8:00pm, I vomited during a contraction and knew that it was almost time to meet my daughter. My nurse told me that I was fully effaced and dilated. We started to do some “practice pushes” along with the contractions and because I could feel everything, I knew exactly how to push. Once I gave over to the idea that I had no choice, and had to finish delivery, I felt myself surrender and relax into the pain. Those “practice” pushes brought baby Margo almost to crowning, and the nurse had to run out of the room to call Dr. Stamm. I actually had to actively NOT push through a couple contractions (which was extremely difficult) so that he could get to me.

At 8:30, I began to push. Breaking each contraction down into 3 ten second intervals where I would breathe in, hold my breath, and bear down. Everyone kept saying how great I was doing, and after only a half hour at 9:00pm, they put my daughter on my chest.

I was stunned. I didn’t think that she was ever going to make it. I had been terrified of delivery because I thought that I would feel empty and hollow after pregnancy was over. Unknowingly, I had believed that if she would just stay inside of me, I could protect her. With her in my arms, I felt like I was in a dream. She was healthy 7lbs 14oz, 20.5 inches long, and perfect.

9 days later, she is sleeping next to me as I write this. Her face is more defined and I’m learning so much about her. She loves to have her arms outstretched, even out of a swaddle. She has the most beautiful eyes and lips. Although I don’t know much, I know how to feed her, and it brings me such joy to have her close. Nights are hard with a maximum 2 hours of sleep at a time, but I love them because it’s just her and I in our own little world.

I love her more every day, and although my labor and delivery was 28 hours long and I had no sleep for 36, I am happy, easily recovering, and amazed by the capacities of my body. Even though it was my worst fear, I am fine. My baby is safe, and I could do it again. God has designed women for this. We are capable. We are strong.

A Blog about a Blog

This morning I stumbled upon this. The post is called "On Daughters and Dating: How to Intimidate Suitors" and provides perspective on how to best protect girls from the wrong kind of suitors by building walls of intimidation. It was a fascinating read.

"Instead of intimidating all your daughter’s potential suitors, raise a daughter who intimidates them just fine on her own."

Yup. That was me. It still is me.

Here's the thing: I'm not sure that I became this way through the parenting techniques described in the article. I think that I became this way out of fear. There is a delicate balance in having healthy boundaries, and isolating yourself from others. Unfortunately, I have used a facade of strength and confidence to intentionally intimidate others (especially my brothers in Christ) and keep them at a distance. If they don't get close to me, then they can't hurt me, but they also can't teach me.

It makes me uncomfortable how the article speaks of my brothers. Sure, there are some dudes out there that I wouldn't want within a mile of my daughter, but there are just as many ladies that I would feel the same way about. Why does someone's gender necessitate cautionary defensive measures?

I have NO IDEA what balance looks like. I would love if my daughter had the experience that I had when seeking a spouse (if she wants a spouse). Colin was my first date, my first kiss, my first everything. No one else on Earth knows me like he does. Still, it was a painful journey to him and although I never loved another real man in the way that I love Colin, I had crafted over years the image of the "perfect" man and I loved it. To this day, it is a huge temptation to project this onto my Husband. That image is essentially Jesus (or my perception of what Jesus would be like) and no human can ever hope to reach it.

Moreover, I really struggle to have positive relationships with men who are not my husband. Group environments are totally fine, but even a purely academic conversation with one of my favorite male professors can make me very uncomfortable. No matter how safe an appropriate the environment, I am still consciously putting up walls of "protection." It makes me sad that I see all men as potentially dangerous. It brings to mind the #yesallwomen campaign on twitter.

So little Margo... my unborn daughter and great love... I want you to have the "Strength and dignity. Deep faith. Self-assuredness. Wisdom. Kindness. Humility. Industriousness." that the article talks about, but I also want you have a gate to your walls. I want you to be strong enough to listen and learn from both your sisters and your brothers and to realize that true strength does not come from isolation. That doesn't mean that you should date all the people. It just means that they are more than potential love interests. Listen and discern with an open mind before putting up walls. Sometimes real strength is being open.

-Rachel

I think therefore...

I'm writing again. It's been a healthy catharsis, but I'm struggling to find my voice. I know who I used to be, but I don't know who I am right now. Major things that I hide behind have been stripped away, and I'm trying to sort out what is left. I have this image in my head of an overly confident, in control, perfectionistic, productive, and recklessly vocal young girl. I would observe a situation and wreck havoc upon anything I deemed incorrect. In order to have my way, I became an agent of destruction.

I don't want to be that girl. I want to plant gardens and speak hope. I want to participate in healthy, positive, change. Still, there is something about the image that I'm proud of. Where is my passion? Gradually, I feel more helpless and embarrassed when I speak. This can't be humility. I feel like it's just another form of narcissism.

So where is my place? Where is there balance and rhythm?

As I look upon Christ's crucible, I know that I wont find it until this world is made new.

What a buzzkill.

-Rachel

Margo Evelyn's Nursery

Colin and I love simple clean lines, and babies respond best to high contrast so we wanted Margo's nursery to be modern and soft with gender neutral color pops. Adventure and exploration are the main themes with woodland creature accents and an outdoorsy vibe. 

I found the crib blanket fabric on Spoonflower.com and fell in love. I decided to back it with a solid red-orange and rustic cable-thread edging detail... well, I didn't really DECIDE to give it rustic-cable thread detailing, but that's what I'm calling it since I really just learned to sew so that I could make things for the nursery (shout out to Nana B for teaching me). The whole room was inspired by the fabric. It feels modern AND woodsy. 

I designed the art above the crib and changing table printed it with our new canon pro-printer. It's the bee's knees and I've been thinking about selling some of the designs online. The mobiles were a pain in the booty since I had to hand sew all the little critters for the one near the crib and then hand watercolor all the cards for the one near the changing table. Friends contributed the "Margo Evelyn" painting and vintage "M." Finally, that giant acrylic over the dresser is in the style of a previous series of paintings I did called "Elementary" that have a tribal feel with and geometry.

I think it's all about the details. From Colin's childhood copy of "Where the Wild Things Are" to my worn out teddy bear, this room has been intentionally put together with care for our daughter. 

The coolest part is that we did it together. Sure, I might have done most of the detail work, but not a single thing went into that room without Colin's input and physical carrying. Seriously. He spent HOURS putting together that dresser. Actually, the only piece of furniture that did not require assembly is my Grandma's chair (not the rocker... that had to be put together too!). He hung the art work. He painted the walls. He hung the hardware and fabric for the curtains and organized the furniture. 

I cannot wait to spend time in this room with our little girl.

Feminist Mama

Pregnancy, Breastfeeding, & the Holy Eucharist, by Valerie Geer

You lived on my blood

What I ate, you ate

These breasts fed you…all of you

I have nourished a clan with my own flesh and blood

So when you tell me that it is difficult to understand a first-century male Jewish rabbi

I sigh…patronized

We women know what it means to have someone eat our flesh and drink our blood, for you to be part of us, for your very life to depend on us

I'm bringing another girl into this world by the end of this month, and you know what? It's really hard to be a girl. Frankly, it's really hard to be a human.

I never used to identify as a feminist. I thought that the word was a label for a woman who believed that she was better than men... maybe even hated them. The word made me uncomfortable. It seemed to demand things.

I have been told repeatedly that women and men are created differently... Men to lead, and women to help. I have been told that women are weaker than men. I have been told that wives should submit to their husbands, and a true Christian woman walks with a "quiet grace."

Here's the thing: I'm wild. I'm bold, and I lead.

Because I'm a woman, this isn't ok? Should I suppress the gifts that God has given me because some people interpret a few verses differently and out of context? I mean... should I REALLY be silent in church and wear a head covering?

I make some people uncomfortable. I am confident, and don't hesitate to speak when I have something to say. Even as I write this, I wonder if people will read it and think that I am irrational or coming on "too strong," but out of a man's mouth, these same words wouldn't be questioned. Still, that wondering has never stopped me.

The other day, someone posted an article on a social media website entitled "8 Essential Rules for Banging a Single Mom." Naturally, my eyes narrowed, and brow furrowed as soon as I read the title. I knew what I was getting into, but curiosity got the best of me, and I clicked the link. I have NEVER read something so hurtful, depraved, and oppressive. It talked about treating women like "bowling balls" (using all orifices) in order to shame her into realizing her place. The author wrote that single mom's are looking for a man to provide for them, so if you want to continue to have sex with her, you should be careful to never ever buy her anything. That way, she will continue to do more and more degrading things in bed with the hope of getting money from you. There were 6 more "tips" that I don't feel like talking about.

This is the world that my baby girl will live in.

It's true that not all men believe these things. I am a part of a wonderful community that would never condone such misogynistic language, and my husband is the person who first explained to me what Egalitarian marriage (mutual submission) looks like. Still, all women are confronted and shaped by these hateful beliefs.

Slavery was also justified using the Bible. Scripture is a double edged sword, that can be used to hurt people as much as it can be used to heal. When we forget to seek the author's original intent and historical context, human interpretations fail. Most people don't realize that American black men won the right to vote with the 15th Amendment in 1870, but American women (of any color) did not win theirs until the 19th Amendment, in 1920... a half-century later. Women have been systematically oppressed for a very very long time, but for some reason, vocalizing it is taboo... a glaring sign that the oppression continues.

I don't want to rule over men. I love my brothers. I just want to see as many women leaders as male leaders. I want to be asked my opinion. I want to be asked to teach. When there is vision being cast, I want to see women present. I want my words to be as effective at making change as a man's. I want to wear whatever I want to wear without hearing cat calls or being called a slut.

I want my daughter to be valued as a person... without limitation. Because you know what? She is.

-Rachel

It's Been Awhile

I've been really active on social media and with roots-creative.com but figure it's time to start writing about adventures again... mostly because of Margo.

Margo is the baby in my belly.

She should be here in about a month.

Oh. My. Dog.

Something about her immanent arrival reminds me of preparing to leave for Asia. The unknowns create in me an excited energy that easily lead to worry. I'm asking big questions again. I find myself looking at the broad picture of our lives at the end of this season and acknowledge that change is coming. Just like I wondered who I would become after living overseas, I wonder who will I be when I have a child.

This time, it's a permanent adventure. It's like I'm getting married to someone I've never met before. More than that, my every word and action will shape her. My beliefs will most likely become her beliefs. My bad habits will most likely become her bad habits. Gosh, I hope she doesn't bite her nails like her mama.

Welcome to this new adventure. Welcome to my processing.

-Rachel