Archive for January, 2010
We have decided to have a hospital birth because we are a couple of weenies and at the beginning of this insane process thought that it would be safer. After reading so many birthing stories and attending our 3rd Lamaze class, we are second guessing ourselves. I don’t want any intervention if I can help it. I don’t even want an I.V. in my arm. I want to be free to move around, get in a tub. Not to mention the fact that I don’t want anyone to have open access to my insides, allowing them to inject whatever medication they feel will get them out of there faster while I am in a state of intense pain or panic. Hopefully not panic, but you never know, right?
Steve and I both walked out of the class at half time and said, “Let’s just go get a birthing pool and have Matilda at home.” That sounds so nice and relaxing. I know some people go into the hospital and feel safe and well cared for, but I am going to be a nervous wreck, thinking that everything the peeps at the hospital ask me has ulterior motives. It makes my blood pressure rise just thinking about it.
Intervention scares me more than the pain of natural childbirth.
I hate needles. They make me woozy, even if they are in a cartoon animation.
Speaking of animations, we saw one last night of a cesarean. Ooga Booga. I know that most of my friends who have had one say that it is no biggie. And honestly, I was fine when they cartoonly sliced through the skin and muscle. And when they cartoonly sliced through the uterus. But, when they pried it all open with big metal salad tongs, the cartoon didn’t seem so cartoony anymore and I about rolled off of my chair. No biggie though, I am sure.
And cesareans only happen with one out of every three births at the hospital that we are having Matilda. Sometimes higher, but who’s counting? And the odds are really with us with those numbers, right?
But that’s only if the vacuum cleaner that they attach to her head to suck her out doesn’t work. No wait, one more thing they can try: salad tongs up your va-jay-jay, clamped to your sweet, little baby’s soft little head. Don’t worry, it only causes paralysis in some babies.
I do understand that we are going to a hospital that performs a lot of difficult, high risk births, but most of the moms that I know who ended up in these precarious (ahem understatement) situations were not high risk. No, they were given pitocin to speed that little baby up. I mean really, come on baby, what’s taking so long? Get it together and get your shit out here.
Oh shit! Now my contractions hurt to all high hell and I can’t even handle this shit anymore. Will someone please, please stick me in the back with a super long needle and then insert a tube into my back that injects medication that makes me unable to walk and not feel my legs or anything in or around my va-jay-jay? Did I mention that I now have a hole in my back that is shooting medicine into myself and my baby?
Woozy again just talking about it.
So yeah, I have a bit of a fear of hospital births. I am sure that it is not as bad as I am foreseeing it. I am sure that it will all go fine and I will be relaxed and that the nurses will do everything that my husband, myself and our doula tell them to do. That is why I am bringing in the troops. If anyone tries to touch me with any bullshit that I have not approved, Steve will get them from behind and the doula will take them from the front. Down. If anyone asks me the same question more than once like, “Would you like us to induce?” I am going to go ballistic on their asses and then they are gonna try to tie me down like they did in the olden days.
Anyway, Steve and I really want a natural birth. We are so afraid that we are jeopardizing the chances of having one by doing this in a hospital. But again, we are afraid of the consequences of a home birth that could go awry, not to mention the fact that home births are illegal in Missouri. Gotta love the midwest.
Maybe I need you internet people. Maybe I need you to tell me about your births. Even if you planned for an epidural and wanted all of the drugs, maybe your stories will calm me into feeling like this can go smoothly without the pressure from outside sources to just “get ‘er dun.”
Getterdun.
***Clarification*** This post reflects my insane fears and concerns for myself during labor and delivery. All of what I wrote is what is in my ahead about the fears that I have of my own pregnancy experience. I was also flabbergasted at the lackadaisical approach of presenting all of this intervention to us in my lamaze class. It is in no way a reflection on anyone’s experience during their own delivery. I truly believe that anything that happens during labor and delivery, so long as the mom wanted it, is what needed to happen for herself and her baby to get through the process in a manner that was safe and right for them. I don’t want anyone to ever think that I am judging decisions they have made. I, for my first birthing experience need the safety of the hospital and am too scared to have a home birth. I also truly love to hear everyone’s birthing experiences. Whether they are insane or went totally smooth, drugs, no drugs, home, hospital. I feel like people mostly write about their scary experiences and my brain is lacking positive birthing stories.
January 13, 2010
I read this really great blog post today about trying not to let the negative things that happened in the past affect your present. The post really could not have come on a better day for me. Or shall I say could not have come at a more convenient time when I was feeling pretty crappy about some of the decisions I had made within the last day.
I have not talked much about the animal rescue work I do for a few reasons. First, it tends to take over. When I start to write about it, it becomes addictive and I forget about the rest of my life, so instead I started to write a book about my adventures in pet rescue. I also wanted to make myself more vulnerable by sharing more than just rescue with you through this blog.
Anyway, I just had a really shitty day in the rescue arena. One of the dogs we rescued last week got away from her new foster. I feel like it was my fault because I should have advised the woman better on how to transport this sweet dog. I should have been more thorough in the foster interview process. I should have done a lot of things that I did not do.
We put so much time, love, effort, life into caring for and rescuing and thinking about these dogs that when one does not go well it is heartbreaking. Unfortunately, this particular dog just had surgery, was treated for heartworm and is out in the cold in an unknown area on the two coldest nights of the year. She is feral, so there is really no chance of us finding her again. I cannot shake the fact that had I made better decisions, this dog could be safe and in a warm home.
These types of incidents make me want to stop doing rescue, they make me want to eradicate the heartache that rescue work sometimes brings. I keep telling myself that I need to stop pondering on the negative. There is only so much I can control and if I let the negatives affect all of the positive that can be done in the future, well things just won’t get done that way.
I suppose the only way things can change and the world can be a better place is for people to stop looking over their shoulders at the decisions that they regret, not hole yourself up in a box ignoring the things that may bring you heartache, but allowing yourself to work through them and move on to continue to do the work that really does bring more joy than heartache. Not to mention that it is not heartache for the thousands of other dogs that we have rescued and will rescue in the future.
I am a hormonal crying mess that can’t stop blubbering about this poor dog and I wish the stupid fucking weather woman would stop telling me how fucking cold it is going to be tonight. It’s like rubbing salt in my wound.
January 9, 2010
Lamaze class always makes for good jokes and fun. This week we watched a video of a live birth of a baby. When the baby was born, they set her on the mother’s stomach and wiped her down with a towel, cut the cord and allowed her to nurse. After the movie was over the teacher asked if we had any questions. A girl raised her hand and said, “Are they going to set that disgusting baby on me without cleaning it up.” I am not kidding. I tried to smile at her because I don’t like anyone to feel uncomfortable and I thought maybe she was joking about it. But, she went on and on and I found myself staring at her with a sour puss look on my face, jaw dropped, scoffing. Maybe she didn’t mean to get pregnant.
And then came the moment where the baby daddy was supposed to tell the baby mama 3 phrases of encouragement that they might say to us when we are dying of pain. When it came to the aforementioned scared of her own disgusting baby’s filth husband, he pulled a pickle wrapped in plastic wrap out of his pocket and said that he would bribe her to keep going with a pickle.
What?
But really, I would like to hear how you got through your birth. Was there anything you wish you would have done differently…like not touch your baby until it was clean? All joking aside, really was there anything you wish you would have brought with you, asked for more directly, made more clear before the whole insanity started? I am getting ready to make my birthing plan. I realize that nothing is set in stone when it comes to childbirth, but I do have a pretty clear idea of how I want things to be handled that are in my control. I would love to hear about yours.
I just hope my baby comes out clean.
January 9, 2010
2010 is the first year that Steve and I stayed home to celebrate the New Year quietly and just the two of us (+dogs who were so happy to celebrate with their humans for the first time ever). It may have been my favorite New Year yet…well, the days of the rented out restaurant and belligerence were a LOT of fun, but this one was special. My first New Year to not drink since I was probably 15…which goes back to my old post of how I am going to keep Matilda on the straight and narrow.
Anyway, Steve and I have a ritual of naming each year. The year 2009 was “The Year of the Burp” and that is because Steve burped a lot in 2009, but I told him it had to be over by 2010. We named 2008 “The Year of Fun” and that is because Floyd decided it was going to be a fun year. 2010 is going to be “The Year of Pee & Poo”. A little gross, I realize, but we foresee a lot of pee and poo in our future. Looking forward to it.
Our exciting evening started out at the brand spankin’ new Blockbuster Express Box at our local 7-11.
We bought some fancy steaks–not from 7-11 (even though pre-pregnancy I did not eat Steak), but they were so good and they were well taken care of before they were cut up for our consumption.
Steve grilled in the single digit weather with no socks.
I made twice baked potatoes and Julia Child’s cooked cucumbers because we just watched Julie and Julia the other night and then I bought “Mastering the Art of French Cooking
” because that’s how I roll.
Don’t tell the pregnancy police, but I had a splash of wine. Mine was much smaller than the one pictured above. Hardly even worth it, but it was great with the steak.
Forgot to take a picture of our pretty dessert until it was half eaten because it was so good and nothing comes between a pregnant lady and her dessert, not even a camera.
The face that Steve gives me when he is done with me taking pictures.
Floyd got a terrible eye infection, but it healed pretty quickly. It did not slow him down either. Don’t worry, he still had a great new year.
Happy New Year all! I hope 2010 is everything you want it to be.
January 7, 2010
I finally decided on a car seat. As mentioned in this post it was quite difficult to find a seat that has good safety standards, isn’t going to choke my kid to death with its gassing, and didn’t get a thousand terrible reviews on how other people’s children screamed and cried because the car seat was so uncomfortable. There are not a lot of reviews that I could find on this car seat, but their company philosophy is phenomenal.
Hopefully if you are having the same problem I was having matching safety standards with toxin standards (which I don’t think we should have to compromise), you have happened upon this post before you completely pulled your hair out or bought something that was less than up to your standards.
I would love to hear about companies and products that you have come across that you could not live without or think that their philosophy is above and beyond what most other company’s philosophies are.
January 4, 2010
