Nursing Down

it's been a couple of months, i guess, since i've been able to consistently nurse you down to sleep and then sneak away. it's bitter-sweet, really. there are nights like tonight when i just want to keep you with me on the couch so we can snuggle up and watch tv for hours. but then there is the reality of sneaking away and actually getting an hour or two to myself. i spend those moments in a very exciting way...i take my vitamins, make some tea, sneak in some computer time and maybe catch a re-run of how i met your mother. i eat some peanuts and glance at the monitor every 60 seconds or so. i never want you to have to cry, so as soon as i see you stir...well, really stirring is ok these days...you can usually get yourself back to sleep with a minor stir. when i see you rub your nose i run to you and snuggle up next to you and nurse you back down. at that point i usually just pull up the covers and kiss your sweet head and whisper "i love you" and go to sleep. the truth is, i look forward to that moment the entire time i am away from you. it's nice to reunite after that hour or so apart. when i am away from you, something just doesn't feel right. i am not the mom who needs to be away from you. i don't need my own time. my own time is the time that i am with you. i am lucky you are here with me. i am lucky you chose me. and i will always cherish every minute i spend with you. there will be a time in the not so near future when you won't be around. you'll be at school. with your friends. out with your dad. and i will miss you. and i will miss these days when all you needed was me. nursing down is a cherished activity in our lives together. one that will be short-lived. one that i will be sad to see go someday...someday not so far away.

The Hospital Nursery

Mason, I am so thankful I knew enough not to send you to the nursery. I had a C-section. It was major abdominal surgery. It hurt. I was in pain. It was difficult to move around. I was tired. But I was a mother.

I could have sent you to the nursery. But I didn't. You stayed with me for four days in the hospital. I nursed you in my bed, even though the sign said not to sleep with you. I only left you to shower. Once. I was tired. Exhausted. But you were here on this Earth with me. Safely. You did not know anyone else. You knew me. Only me. My voice. My smell. The sound of my heart beat. You knew that with me you were safe.

I can't imagine sending you to the nursery to be cared for by someone else. Some stranger, who yes, may have loved to hold you and snuggle you. But she would be a stranger...not your mother. She might also have given you a wild bath and scared you terribly with the water. She may have given you a bottle. Or a pacifier. Or she may have ignored your cries.

I imagine the babies in the nursery feel sad and lonely. They miss their mommies. They must wonder where their mommies went and why they are all of a sudden all alone in a new and scary place. A place that is foreign to them with people who are foreign to them.

I am so happy I kept you with me. It wasn't a difficult decision. It wasn't hard. It wasn't a sacrifice. There was no way I could even consider letting you out of my sight. You are my baby and I am your mother.

magnets

we were playing together on the kitchen floor yesterday. playing with magnets. not kid magnets. just magnets that are boring and for grown-ups to hold up their boring stuff. we sat there and played with these three magnets for about fifteen minutes.

and i realized that this is what i will miss when...well, if, i have to go back to work someday. yes, i'll miss big stuff. but i'll also miss little stuff like the luxury of having the time to sit on the floor in the kitchen with you and play with magnets. and the curiosity in your eyes while you play.

you and i are like magnets. and i want it to stay that way as long as possible.

mason and sleep

baby boy you have never been a great sleeper. i suppose it has something to do with me. but it also has a lot to do with you. i never wanted to put you down. never. never. never ever never. and i don't regret that i never did. but you and your sleep have been a source of tension for me and your daddy for your entire life.
right now you are on my lap. oh my god, no you aren't. i just wrote that out of habit. you are actually in my bed. alone. i nursed you down and here i am with free time and no baby clinging to me. no baby stuck to my boob. no baby on my lap. or in my arms.
i am waiting for you to srart crying. no. screaming. you scream. you scream as if you are being set on fire (that's how jude's mom erica describes it...gotta give props). so i have been terrified your whole life to leave you. i cannot handle that scream. you need me. you need to be touching me. and i am ok with that.
it took a long time for me to get there, though. i still remember the few times i tried to put you down in your crib and leave you there. the look on your face sends chills down my spine even now. you would reach for me and scream with your red face. tears running out of the corners of your eyes. the outside corners. i sat there and patted your bum and "shhhh"ed you and told you it was ok. but it wasn't. it was wrong and terrible and i hope that you do not remember it. i only did it a few times. for maybe six minutes each time before scooping you up. and sometimes you fell asleep. you even slept for a long time once. it sucked. i hated it.
so i let it go. and i just figured that if you need to nap on me and sleep on me, then that's my job. and i will be ok and so will you. someday you will sleep alone.
and that night, i'm sure i won't get any sleep.

my cesarean

yes. i had a cesarean. not the homebirth i had planned. a cesarean. and i am still torn up about it. well, not still. at first i was ok. now i am torn up. the more time i have had to process it, the worse i get.

it was the best it could have been. or at least close to it. meredith was there. daddy was there. you nursed beautifully in the recovery room.

but i did not birth you. we did not labor together. we missed it.

is that why you are so pissed off? i mean you are a happy boy now. but you still get quite pissed pretty easily. and your transition to this earth was not easy. you were really pissed off for about three months.

everyone says that i cannot regret my decision because i had no choice. but i did have a choice. i chose to allow you to be cut out of my abdomen. i chose it over the very small possibility that if we were to labor at home at the time of your choosing, we could lose you. so no, it wasn't much of a choice, but it was a choice. one i will always have to live with.

i will never know what would have happened if i had not made that choice. i can only imagine. maybe we could have labored together. maybe you would even have turned at some point and i could have birthed you at home into my arms. or daddy's.

or maybe your cord would have prolapsed and maybe you would have died.

i chose. i chose to have a cesarean. i chose something that i never even believed would be a possibility for me. i chose because when a doctor says there is a chance, even the most valiant of mothers makes that choice.

it was a brave choice. it was an informed choice. it was a choice.

i do not regret it. i mourn it. i mourn the loss of our birth at home. i mourn the loss of being the first to hold you.

i am sorry they put that shit in your eyes when you were born even though i told them not to. i am sorry for the lights. for the cold. for the masks. i am sorry for the smells. for the strangers. for the being pulled out. i am sorry.

but i love you. and i was afraid to lose you.

three years

i realized last night that i'm not quite sure how i have anything left to give of myself. it was three years ago last month that your dad and i started trying to become parents. it took us three months to conceive your brother. i was pregnant for five months. they were an easy and exciting five months, for the most part.

but ever since coooper's birth and death, my life has been a non-stop expulsion of energy. i've been spending my energy for two and a half years.

just after cooper was born, i spent months trying to figure out what caused his prematurity. i read. i googled. i went for acupuncture. ayurveda. workshops. journaling. grief support group. i spent all of my energy trying to find out the cause. and to be ok with the result.

then there was the infertility, which overlapped with the previous spending. blood drawn. tests. meditation. yoga. ultrasounds. shots, pills, suppositories. planned sex. chinese herbal teas.

all of this time obsessing about every little thing that crossed my lips.

then, ivf. more shots and suppositories. and ultrasounds. and bloodwork. egg retrieval surgery.

and then there was you.

my pregnancy was wonderful. i loved carrying you in my belly. but i was stressed. i ate obsessively, drank water obsessively. acupuncture appointments. more disgusting herbal teas. ultrasounds. worry. little sleep. herbal supplements.vitamin supplements. what can i eat safely? what should i eat for your benefit? will i lose you, too?

then there was the low-lying placenta. avoiding certain yoga poses.

then you were breech. seven weeks of trying to help you turn. i tried everything (i listed the long list on an earlier post, so we don't need to revisit that). so let's just say that everything i did or thought was about turning you. for seven long weeks.

and then there was the cesarean. and the healing. physical, not mental, because that hasn't happened yet. that is a whole post of it's own. i will brave that one soon. i hope.

then the breastfeeding. that took a good three months to get down. oh, and you cried a lot, too. so every second was spent either bouncing or walking or nursing. and i cried a lot.

and now you are you. you are my baby. and i am your mom. your attached mom. super attached. i have you with me nearly every second of every day. and i love it. i would not have it any other way. all of my energy goes to you.

it leads me to wonder how i have anything left. (i do.)
and it makes me wonder how anyone can expect me to. (they do.)

becoming me

i've always had friends. and good ones. i love my friends. friends from childhood when i was shy and sneaky, from high school when i was a real bitch, from my early twenties when i was a drunken pot smoker, and friends from teaching, when i was close to becoming me.

they've all acepted me. and the sarcasm, the knowing-it-all, the impulsivity, the compassion, the honesty, the going-with-the-flow, the flying-off-the-handle, the silliness, the seriousness, the dichotomy, the bullshit of me.

but until now, i wasn't me. i kind of feel like there was no me. i was looking real hard for a long time. but i never really found me. i never knew who i really was. i mean, who i was at the true core of my being. but now i finally know.

until there was you, there was no me.

i am your mother.

one important thing i forgot to say

i actually was in labor on your birthday. dr. salvatore said my cervix was super thin. i was having conrtactions, which i think might have started the day before. dr. s. said that she could guarantee that if i went home i'd be back either that night or the next day. so at least i didn't really pick your birthday.

transition

so i've decided to continue updating this blog. there are things people should know. i am ALWAYS typing with you on my lap, usually sleeping and sucking. well, always sleeping. sometimes you fall off of the nipple. that's nice. also, i should be doing other things. like typing my papers for my birthworks cert. or reading my required books. or trying to sell...well, anything, so i can stay home with you. i'm trying to sell barefoot books. i'm getting back into teaching yoga. i'd also like to set up a business so i can sell babywearing stuff and other things. oh, and erica and i want to write a book. but here i am, usually wasting time on facebook. typing with one hand. my left hand, which is not the right one.

so i'll continue writing to you. and maybe people will read it. and maybe they'll share it. and maybe someday, someone will advertise here and i can stay home with you. that was aunt tammy's idea. i like it.

see, it's not that i don't like to work. well, i don't love it, but teaching is fun for me. i love those kids. and my subject is fun. but i have a new passion now. so, we'll see.

this is one boring post.

4. i really miss cooper this week. especially today.

not sure why, but i'm missing your brother a lot this week. i was lying there with you snuggled close last night thinking about cooper's birth. i couldn't believe it was real. i feel like i talk so much about him, that sometimes i forget the reality of it. the reality that he was here and that he died. you have a brother that you will never know. i imagine times will come when you will speak of him as if you knew him, but you won't. no one will. only me, really.

people are reading this story now and many are dying to know how this all worked out. but i feel like first have to honestly address the sheer anger i voiced earlier towards good people who did nothing wrong. i was so full of anger and jealousy that people who were having babies just pissed me off with their blind ignorance. i am sorry. but these were just my honest feelings. i never planned to let anyone read this.

so back to the story.

we were there in that OR. i was shivering and uncertain about what to do. at one point i yelled, "i cannot think with all of these people staring at me!" the room was lined with doctors, nurses, anesthesiologist, anesthesis, pediatricians, etc. upon hearing my exclamation, they all abruptly left the room. they must have been wondering what all of the thought was about. of course i would have a c-section. i was there. i was prepped. you were 39 weeks. breech. no brainer.

they just don't know, i guess, about how important that experience of labor is. so many moms don't think about labor, or pregnancy for that matter, as anything but a means to an end. many moms even choose a c-section. but there we were, faced with this choice. we went back and forth. i'm going to go. no stay. let' get out of here. wait. maybe not. then i stopped. what can i live with? can i live with choosing his birthday? yes. can i live with him dying. no. there was no way i would survive that. if you died because of a choice i made, i would not survive. period. so as much as it pained me to lose the homebirth experience, as much as i knew deep down that you would be ok, that dr. salvatore, as wonderful as she is, is still a surgeon, as much as i wanted to birth you, i could not lose you. i had already lost your brother.

so i said it. i think i should stay. and meredith, with tears in her eyes, said, finally, i think you should, too. and that was it.

the sheet went up and the docs and nurses began to wash up. daddy went to call your grandparents. meredith stayed with me but at some point was kicked out. when your dad came back i asked if he'd called uncle chris and aunt cole. he hadn't, so he texted them right there.

just as he did, i said to him, when are they gonna start? and dr. salvatore said we're halfway through, tiff. and minutes later we heard the play-by-play. your butt, your legs, your arms, your head.

you were here.

(i later discovered that the texts were received at 3:34 pm and you were born at 3:40 pm. meredith also told me that, ironically, they hd to break your water sac and it literally exploded all over the room.)

you cried. i was worried that they cut the cord too fast. i said it. dr. s. said she'd swiped it so you got all the blood. i'm not sure how effective that is, if it's the same as letting it stop pulsing on it's own, but she gets credit for the attempt.

your dad stayed with me as the strangers took you away. (i found out later through a picture that the gooked up your eyes, even though i told them not to. so pissed. still.) i yelled at daddy, "go with him!" you were all alone in the lights, the cold, with strangers doing things to you. i wanted you to at least hear daddy's voice if i couldn't hold you. it still hurts me to think about how you must have felt.

i began to feel the pain of getting sewn up. they gave me more drugs. i was freezing. covered with blankets. i got a glimpse of you when you were first born...you were still in that crazy hurdler position...you looked literally terrified. i wanted to hold you. i couldn't. daddy did. meredith did. the doctors did. but not me. meredith tried to find space through the blankets to get you nursing. but it wouldn't work. at some point i fell asleep. daddy said i was snoring.

they moved me to a bed and rolled us out together to recovery. it was then that i was able to hold you. to touch you. to breathe you.

you nursed. and i fell in love.

part 3...this could take a while

so there we were in the OR getting ready to turn you. i should've known by then that if you were going to turb, it was going to be when you were ready. i know now nearly 8.5 months later, that you are not a baby that can be manipulated.

anyway, i was cold and numb and full of hope. so were the doctors. and meredith. and your dad. they started trying to turn you. you wouldn't budge. they kept trying and you kept staying put. then your heart rate elevated. a lot. so we waited. they tried again. nothing. i mean NOTHING. not even a millimeter. then i had a contraction. we waited again. another try. more nothing. the doctor said, "guys, i don't know if this is gonna happen. you gave it your best shot, but he's not moving".

ok. i was ok with that. you still had time. hell, we were only at week 39. we had three more weeks to play with.

but then we got the bad and scary news. dr. salvatore said, "tiff, i have to tell you..." she went on to explain that she understood my need to go home and start labor naturally when you were ready. but that i needed to know that there was a slight possibility of cord prolapse. meaning that your knee was over my cervix and in between was your cord. if i began labor with my water breaking (which was a distinct possibility considering your brother's experience) the cord could slip out and you would have seconds to live.

even with that information, your dad, meredith and i still spent a good 30-45 minutes trying to decide what to do. i so badly wanted to at least begin the birth dance with you.

birth story, part 2

so there we were...me, daddy, meredith, and janelle (midwife and apprentice). waiting. they finally took us in for the version at who knows what time. i had to be prepped for a c-section, just in case something went wrong. i started to cry because it was so medical in that OR. i didn't want that for us. it was bright and cols and there were so many doctors and nurses. times three because cooper hospital is a teaching hospital. it was overwhelming and suddenly i got the feeling that everyone knew they'd be sectioning me. i said to your dad, "i never would've done this if i'd known it would be like this."

i was not planning on getting a section. i didn't pack bags, i didn't make arrangements for the dogs. daddy and i didn't go to dinner the night before. i didn't tell anyone that we might end up holding you that day. i didn't say good bye to my students. nothing. that's because the plan was...the plan we made with dr. salvatore and meredith...to try to turn you and if you didn't cooperate, we would go home and wait to go into labor. we were only at 39 weeks. i wanted to labor at home as long as possible, even if it meant someone else might end up doing the surgery. i did not want to choose your birthday.

your birth story, part 1

well, here i sit on the couch with you sleeping on my lap. it's 7:30 pm and this is your resting place until mommy is ready for bed. you are seven months, one week and four days old. and i'm just now deciding to write your birth story. let's see how much i remember...and how long it takes to type with my left hand only.

we went to the hospital at 9 am. and waited a long time for our ultrasound. it was confirmed, though. you were still breech. and it was no regular breech. i don't think there's even a name for this kind of breech. you were in a hurdler position with your arms stretched over your head. stuck, i guess.

we waited another really long time for the doctors to meet with us. the "king of versions" was going to try to turn you, so it was an extra long wait. but he thought he could turn you. we felt confident we'd be home for dinner with a vertex baby in my belly.

you haad another idea.

up-side-down...

well, mr. mason, you are still breech in there. many people are saying not to worry, that you will turn when you are ready, even if it is right before we start labor.

but you know your mommy. she still worries.

actually, i am pretty proud of myself because i am not really worried. i am only trying to explore all options and make sure that i do everything i can to get you into this world the way you are meant to enter it.

although in the end, i do believe that it's pretty much your karma to be born the way you will be. and mine. and daddy's.

here's what i've done to try to help you turn if you want to --

chiropractic
moxibustion (that's when daddy burns that stinky cigar like thing down near my pinky toes)
maya abdominal massage
inversions (that's when i am hanging off the couch upside down or laying on my back in a tilt)
swimming with somersaults and handstands included
ice packs on your head
whale sounds and baby mozart at my pelvis
daddy talks to you down low through a paper towel roll
walking our fingers from your head to my pelvic bone
trying to massage you in the right direction
continuing my yoga
crawling on the floor on my hands and knees
visualization/pictures of head-down babies around the house
talking to myself and to you
and i think there has to be more...i'm sure your dad will help me remember...

so we are going with meredith to the OB today to discuss the options of you decide not to turn or if you just can't. i'm trying to listen to you, baby boy, to see what you need. i love you and either way, we are just so excited to meet you and hold you and squeeze you and love you.

update

nicole asked me last week why i haven't updated my blog lately. it's partly because i can't type, but it's also partly because i'm not angry or scared too much anymore. and that's a good thing.

so here are a few things i need to update you on...

little mason is in the breech position. if he stays there, we will have to have him in the hospital via c-section. and what a rip-off that will be. i will be so disappointed to have the docs be the first to hold him. i know that in the end, all that matters is that he is healthy and he is here, but i just want his entry into this world to be perfect. for him and for me. we (josh, meredith and i) are all going to see dr. salvatore on wednesday to come up with a back-up plan.

his room is all finished, as you know. however, it keeps on looking like a bomb dropped in there. we keep receiveing gifts! it's amazing. we have clothes for him for the next three years of his life. i've done so many loads of laundry and there are still crates of clothes in the attic that will need washing. we are so thankful to everyone.

my belly is HUGE. and bigger every second, it seems. mason is moving around all the time. i mean all the time. i wonder if he will be as active when he is out in the real world with the rest of us.

josh is going to take three weeks off when the baby arrives. it's going to be a wonderful time for all of us to bond.

nicole got a job. we miss her. chris was laid off. he loves it, but we are all hoping he will get a new job at lowe's very soon. he and nicole are tlaking about getting an apartment together. funny that nicole and i were roomies for so long and now she may be a roomie with my brother. i love it!

other than that, my body is just getting ready to release this little one into the world. i hardly sleep. my allergies are out of control. this cough is still here and has gotten bad again. but soon, very soon, possibly any day now, we will have a baby to kiss and love.

baby shower!!!

it's been a while and i do apologize...it's just so hard to type with my numb fingers. i do want to update a few things, even though it means going back nearly three weeks!

so aunt cole threw us the best baby shower ever! it was here at our house and everything was perfect. she had lucky bamboo for decorations and TONS of yummy food. grandmom helped, too. aunt cole had a clothes line with so many cute outfits for you -- including baby legs, which i cannot wait to see you wear with your onesies! all of our friends were here to celebrate you -- and they all brought us everything we need for you. they all brought books, too, so you have a nice big bookcase filled with lots of great books! she did everything just the way i wanted it -- no gift wrap so no opening of presents in front of everyone! it was awesome. i was so tired at the end of the day, though.

so a big huge thank you to aunt cole to all of her hard work making the day perfect for us!

more lessons

the placenta has moved, so one of our hurdles has been jumped.

however, little boy, you are NOT in the head down position. your head is up near my heart. maybe that's because we are just so connected and you feel comfortable there. but i need you to move down so we can have the birth experience we have been dreaming about. i know that either way, in the end, a you being born healthy is all that matters, but i will feel such a loss if i have to go to the hospital for a c-section. i want so badly for you to come into this world in a peaceful way, the way you deserve. with nice lighting and calming scents, and people who love and care about you.

i love you. please feel safe to move your head down.

33 weeks with the midwife

we had our 33-week check-up on monday. it went well, but meredith thinks you are upside down. well, really right side up, but we need you to have your head down. you still have plenty of time to flip. we are going to go see you on the ultrasound machine to make sure. if you are the wrong way, we are going to try everything we can to help you get into the right position for our home delivery. i hope you cooperate. trust your mommy, it will be so much better to be born here than in the hospital.

what's daddy been up to?

well, last week your daddy fell off of his motorcycle. it was about 8:00 and he was coming home early from work at the pool. i was happy that he would be home early. but right after he hung up, it started to rain. hard. and there was a lot of crazy wind. it was bad. i was so worried. lincoln and i were staring out the window waiting for him to get home safe. but he called and said that he wrecked. i ran out of the house in the rain with no shoes and in my pjs to go get him. he was right up the street. it was so scary. he was worried that because i was upset you would come early. but you know better than that! he is ok. he has a lot of scratches and scrapes, but we were very lucky. his bike needs some fixing up, but nothing too bad. your mom was never so scared in her life...i hope that we never have to be that scared for daddy again.

but on a happier note, daddy has been working hard on your bedroom...even though you probably won't be in there too much! he has torn down the paneling on the walls, spackled and painted, hung a chair rail, baseboard, and crown molding. he is now laying the floor and will hang the valances. (i've also been having him do tons of other stuff like paint the bathroom, work on outside stuff, etc. he has been so awesome about it all.) he loves that he is able to make your room for you! you will love it when you see it! here's what it looks like so far...

the big scare

last thursday night was a terrible night. i was contracting pretty much every 4 minutes or so. i also had a random pain in my upper abdomen. we called meredith at about midnight. she said relax, take a bath, and if they didn't stop -- go to the hospital for a scan. after about two more hours of "let's go...let's wait...let's go...let's wait" i finally decided to try to close my eyes and calm myself down. i fell asleep and in the morning, i was fine. i think maybe i didn't drink enough. no worries since then, though.