My Name Is Jonah

Hello! My name is Jonah, and I'm hijacking Mom's blog. Much like I've hijacked her life. That's right. Mom had no idea what was coming when I entered the world barely a week ago. And since she's still reeling from that experience, I thought I'd take over, at least temporarily, the sharing of our story...

Me, brand spankin' new.

So how did I enter the world?

Well, it all started with a little act of rebellion on my part. Last Wednesday night, Mom was lying in bed performing what she calls a "kick count" to make sure I was still moving about healthily. Since I was quiet and she wanted to spur me on a bit, Mom made a quick, light slap to her belly. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. But, as it happens, on that particular evening, I was in no mood to humor to my mother. (I suppose the fact that my quarters were becoming quite cramped may have left me feeling bilious.) In response to her touch, I swung a wide leg and kicked as hard as I could. Pop! Turns out my kick broke the bag of waters in which I'd been living these past nine months. And that put a clock on my debut. Bag of waters broken, I had 24 hours to get out.

It didn't take Mom long to figure out she was in labor. Within mere moments of that kick, in fact, she was feeling contractions in 3-5 minute intervals.  (For those of you who don't know, that's quick.)  Mom (between contractions) called the doula, Dad finished packing up the hospital bag, and, after laboring for just a few hours at home, everyone headed out to the hospital.

4 centimeters dilated.
100% effaced.

The nurses and midwife agreed I was well on my way.  Mom settled quickly into a delivery room, where for the next six or so hours we progressed toward full dilation.   It wasn't easy on Mom, who felt pretty sorry for having skipped her nap on (what was now) the previous day, but she pulled through each contraction like a champ.  Months of Bradley Method classes paid off as she used deep breathing exercises and a variety of labor positions to take the edge off the pain and let the contractions do their work of moving me into position.

And then, all of the sudden, Mom needed to push.

"This is why they call it 'labor'," was how one of the nurses put it.  And, when Mom later recalled learning that giving birth is the caloric equivalent of running of marathon, this is the part of the birth to which that thought most seemed to refer.  Mom pushed and pushed for over two hours in the hopes of seeing my little face for the first time.  It was the hardest thing she's ever done, she'll tell you.  But--if you'll excuse the cliche--also the most rewarding.

Shortly after noon on August 2nd, I found myself finally in my loving Mom's arms.  I think we were all in disbelief for a while after that. And maybe we still are.

Mom and me snuggling when I'm just a couple
hours old.  Don't tell her I posted this
one; she's not thrilled with her post-birth look.

I have to confess that my new presence in Mom's (and Dad's) life has been pretty all-consuming.  Fortunately for her (and me), though, I'm a real treasure, so she just can't seem to get enough.  Everything about me delights her, from my angelic sleeping face to my satisfied, post-meal burps.

My onesie's not lying when it says I'm a "cutie".

I'm sure Mom will be back online soon, posting updates about my progress and our new life as a family.  I know she already has a few stories she's looking forward to sharing; these first few days of life have been pretty exciting!  But for the moment, I think I'll give her a little chance to catch up on sleep and/or just stare love-struck into my eyes.  Nothing beats that.  And I think we both deserve as much of it as we can get.

Week 32

I seems like only yesterday day that Bryan and I were gawking at those two blue lines, silently asking each other and ourselves, "So now what?" But the fact is that that excited, happy day is now roughly seven months behind us, and, today, entering our 32nd week of pregnancy, we are a mere two months shy of our due date.  Two months!

So now what?

As the birth gets closer, that question has become a little more urgent. Where once "now what" meant little more than waiting and, later on, watching (but doing mostly nothing) today it means that we had really better get our gear in order. All the literature is warning me to watch out for signs of preterm labor. In our last Bradley Method class, we discussed what items to pack for the hospital and were tasked with finalizing our birth plan in writing as homework.  Our doula recently urged me to walk at least an hour every day from here on out (it's an exercise purported to help ensure a punctual delivery).  And we realize, though it's sometimes still a little shocking to think of it, that if I go into labor in as little as six weeks, I'll be considered full term and no one will try to stop the baby from making its "early" debut.

As you can probably tell, we've been focusing a lot of our attention lately on preparing for labor and delivery--a good thing since those two steps are pretty crucial to the somewhat longer term goal of bringing this baby home. But we also haven't forgotten that Baby will need postpartum care--and that we ought to prepare a bit for that, too, as Baby doesn't come with a tutorial or trial run.  That's why today, for instance, we attended a breastfeeding class (at Shining Light Prenatal Education in Lawrenceville--an excellent resource for local moms-to-be, by the way).

Having spoken with a lot of moms over the years--and particularly over the past few months, of course--I've developed the impression that breastfeeding is a learned skill that doesn't come to most (or maybe even any) mothers as naturally as evolutionary theory would tempt us to expect.  And these days, in particular, because we don't all grow up with frequent exposure to breastfeeding, we're more often than not forced to learn the tricks of the trade the hard way--that is, on the job.  So Bryan and I decided to attend a class to help us (well, me, mostly--but he'll play an important role as my primary support) to start out strong.

I'm so glad we attended.  Although it's obviously too early to say yet whether the class will play a pivotal role in easing Baby's and my transition to nursing, I did come out of the class with a much better sense of what to expect:  how the baby achieves its first latch (have you ever heard of the breast crawl?), how to best position the baby to avoid the pain and irritation sometimes associated with breastfeeding, what complications might arise and how to address them if they do, how to tell when Baby's hungry (before the crying begins, that is), when to best introduce the bottle, and so on.  We were fortunate to have signed up for an unusually small class--it was just Bryan and me and the instructor--so we had plenty of time to go over all of our questions and to amass a ton of information on matters we hadn't even considered.

Yes, we're getting closer, and thanks to a wonderful community of mothers and educators around us, we're feeling more and more prepared for what's to come.

What we have now, by the way, according to the books, is an approximately 4-pound, 19-inch squirmer, quickly running out of space for its squirmy antics.  I have to tell you:  I'm shocked sometimes to feel a little baby rump way over on my left side and then to feel little baby feet kicking way over on the right.  It makes me think our baby must have the longest legs in all the (baby) world.  And then I realize that our baby's almost done growing in the vertical direction.  At this point, it's very nearly at its birth height, and most of its continued growth is in the form of fat accumulation (growing out, not up). I'm not sure why I find that distinction so remarkable, but I do.  That's one long little peanut I have inside me already.  Though I also wouldn't be surprised if Archie did indeed inherit Daddy's lengthy gams, too!

Books & Birth Plans

This weekend we passed the 25-week mark of our pregnancy, which means we have less than 15 weeks to go until the birth (that is, if everything happens on time).  It's funny how our perception of time changes with context.  For instance, we now have about 10 weeks to go before we're scheduled to close on our new house, and that 10 weeks sounds like forever to me.*  But 15 weeks, when we're talking about beefing up this baby by about 6 more pounds and then finally pushing it out of my body, sounds like absolutely no time at all.  It's right around the corner!

Just a few of the baby books we've
 been referencing thus far.

Anyway, in an effort to better prepare myself for The Big Day, I've recently started attacking my stack of baby books with new vigor.  My favorites to read, for better or for worse, tend to be the ones about what to do after the baby comes.  Should we co-sleep?   Wear our baby?  What are tried and true ways to bond with baby after birth?  What gizmos and gadgets will we want at home to make life with baby more convenient or more fun or safer for baby?  These are the sorts of questions that are fun to consider as we anticipate the road ahead.

Regrettably, I've been less motivated to read about the labor process and what to do to prepare for labor.  This feels a lot more like homework than the former.  Nevertheless, I know that in a few weeks my midwives and my doula are going to start asking me for a copy of my birth plan, and, though I do already have a strong general sense of what it will be, it would probably benefit me to start fleshing out the details sooner than later.

Thus, these are the sorts of questions I've been pondering today--and will continue to ponder until I have a genuine plan on paper:

• How can I best achieve a drug- and intervention-free birth?
• Under what circumstances might my preferences regarding particular interventions change?
• How will I work with my medical team to preserve a sense of participation/cooperation in my care if something goes wrong?
• What methods or tools would I like to use for relaxation through labor?
• What are my preferences regarding testing and separation after the baby is born?
• Which parts of my birth plan are high priority?  And which are most negotiable?

For some of these questions, and for others I haven't listed here, I have easy answers, at least in part.  But some require a lot more thought.  And still more I'm sure will be added to the list as I continue to read and educate myself.

I'm hoping that, between the books and the advice of other, trusted moms I know, within a few weeks I'll be well-armed to compose a clear and confident plan to share with my birth team.  In the meantime, Moms-I-Know, keep sending along advice!  I'm glad to receive it; even when Bryan and I have already made a decision about our labor or our parenting thereafter, it feels good to have a wider sense of what our options are!


* Quick housing update:  Though the place we were under contract to buy earlier this month fell through, we were extremely fortunate to find another home--one which we love--almost right away.  We're under contract again and looking at closing at the end of June.  Let's hope we have better luck this time around!

Birth Classes & Our Latest Photo Shoot

Yesterday Bryan and I attended our first childbirth class.  After considering a variety of options, we've decided to study the Bradley Method, a set of birthing tools centered on childbirth as a natural process and on preparing husbands/fathers to play the role of coach throughout the pregnancy and (most importantly) labor.  So far we're feeling really good about it.  The class is made up of only two couples--us and another young set of academics also due in August.   Our teacher is a wonderful woman with a baffling amount of energy and years of experience as a mother, Bradley Method instructor, and both birth and postpartum doula.  We'll be attending the class every week for 12 weeks, two and a half hours per week.

Our first class focused on natural means of managing pain (mostly relaxation techniques such as massage and abdominal breathing) and on prenatal exercises that prepare the body for the act of giving birth (which, apparently, is the caloric equivalent of running a marathon--so I better get in shape!).  We also watched a couple of birth videos, which, I have to admit, can be a little overwhelming.  Seeing those children make their way into the world is simultaneously thrilling, heart-string pulling, and, no doubt, a little bit scary.

Luckily, though it can be hard to watch the women in those videos express the pain they're experiencing, pain in childbirth is one of the least of my worries (for now anyway).  I'm pretty sure I was born with my mother's imperviousness--and, in a real pinch, there are always drugs, though I'm hoping to avoid them.  But I have realized that I'm still working on managing two other fears related to childbirth.  First, I'm fearful of unnecessary medical interventions, which I've heard/seen/read can start innocently enough but often quickly cascade into a series of increasing dangerous and otherwise completely avoidable procedures.  I hope that by taking this class, both Bryan and I will find ourselves better informed about--and, therefore, better able to make decisions around--this particular kind of challenge during childbirth.  Second, I can't help but feel nervous anticipating my exposure during the birth.  It's difficult for me to imagine myself grunting and moaning and generally becoming so "raw" in front of other people, possibly even complete strangers.  But maybe attending this class will help me tap into that seldom-accessed part of myself, too.  In any case, it's a relief to know I still have time to get myself psychologically--as well as physically--prepared for what's to come.

In other news, Archimedes was the subject of another photo shoot today, this one at the ultrasound office.  Here are a couple of the pictures we snapped.  I can hardly believe how big we're getting!  (Compare these to the ones we took just 6 weeks ago.)

Archie's giving us a peace sign.  A hippie baby, perhaps?

Our baby in profile, displaying a little fist

Drama & Momma

If birthing babies were an Olympic sport, my mom would have been a gold medalist.  Six children.  The latter five of them born completely without medication.  And, the story goes, the very last was born breech after what amounted to about a twenty minute labor.  "We had just arrived at the hospital, and the doctor barely had time to put on his catching mitt," my dad will tell you.  Yes, when it comes to baby-birthing, Mom was the stuff of legend.

So when people ask me about my birth plan and I mention that I'm aiming for a natural birth primarily under the care of midwives, the surprise with which they sometimes respond always comes as a bit of a surprise to me.  For me, natural childbirth is one of those things I took for granted when a child myself and then easily adopted into my choices as an adult.  DO go to college.  DON'T wipe boogers on other people's shirtsleeves.  DO give birth without drugs.  Well, of course.

I bring all this up because it turns out that, for me at least, giving birth naturally isn't quite a matter "of course".  Finding a medical team willing to support my goals of a natural childbirth has been a challenge, and as I've shuffled between medical practices--and even between different practitioners within a single practice--I've found that views of my capacity and my potential to give birth naturally (even in a non-emergency setting) vary widely.  It's been the source of a lot of frustration--and a lot of questions.  For instance, what has evolution been up to all these years if I still can't be trusted to push a baby out of my business without intervention?  And don't I get any say in this?  (And also some genuine medical questions.)

When I started this blog, I thought that I'd keep these frustrations to myself.  Keep it upbeat.  Keep it apolitical.  Keep certain things private.  But this morning, after a particularly irritating appointment with a new doctor, I realized with regret that I don't have many peers to whom I can turn to ask, "How did you handle this?" or "Is it normal to feel frustrated when...?"  And I realized that maybe I don't have that system of peers because people don't generally talk about these things.  We all keep it upbeat, apolitical, private.

So here I am opening up--at least a little bit.  I want you to know that this is something I'm going through.  Sometimes I feel that my medical team is not listening to me.  Sometimes I have to struggle to obtain information and options.  Sometimes--I would even go so far as to say--I feel a bit like chattel being herded through the metaphorical abattoir of the medical establishment.  It's not always pretty, and sometimes it downright sucks.

In the end, I'm sure Archimedes will make his or her debut without much consideration of my ideal birth plan.  (Though, in a way, that's what I hope for:  birth on Baby's terms.)  But in the meantime, I will continue to strive for the best and healthiest birth that I have envisioned and to hope that on the big day my mom's good genes and good fortune show up in full force.   And, also in the meantime, I'll take comfort in knowing, rather than hoping, that regardless of what path eventually gets this baby into my arms, I have at least inherited many of my mother's other ample strengths--like conviction and determination and an unflinching devotion to her children--which I'll be able to apply to my relationship with Baby every day thereafter.

Wish me luck until then!