dear cooper,
it's been three years. three years ago today my water broke while i was finishing teaching my 6th period class. i stood up to walk the kids out and i felt a gush. i ran to the restroom. my pants were soaked.
i had used a suppository to heal my yeast infection. it wasn't really a yeast infection at all. it's what dr. white at McGyno called it because she couldn't take the time to figure out what it really was. i didn't trust my body. so detached. i am so sorry, little baby. i followed doctors orders blindly. i will never do that again. this was your your first lesson for me.
i actually went home to change. and do laundry. and i came back to teach 8th period.
i had called the drs office but they put me on hold. typical. i hung up. they took so long. i figured i would call after school. this wasn't a big deal.
that's what i told your dad after school when i went to tell him about what had happened. he was about to get on a bus to go to a far away wrestling meet. he looked worried. i cried a little. but i said it was all ok.
i went home. called the doctor. they said to come right in.
that scared the shit out of me. they never made time.
grandmom drove me. i was nervous and terrified and tried to stay calm.
she was nervous and terrifed and tried to stay calm, too.
there was a lot of traffic.
they took me right in. i didn't have to wait.
i always waited. this scared me more.
the dr checked me. said she'd be right back. came back with an ultrasound machine.
your water broke. you have to go to the hospital right away. can someone drive you?
yes. my mom. how bad is this?
well. sometimes we can keep you pregnant a long time.
tears.
i ran out with my shoes half on. yelled at grandmom to hurry up we have to go to the hospital. i cursed at the receptionist as she asked for my payment. left my jacket there. called your dad from the car. he said he would get to the hospital. how i didn't know. but i knew he would.
my water had broken at about 1:30. by this time three years ago (about 8 pm) i had been checked internally at least three times. i regret that. they gave me morphine to keep the contractions away. i regret that.
i called the vice-principal to tell her i was in the hospital and hopefully i would be there a long time.
i figured you would stay inside until your lungs worked. then we'd be in the NICU. and someday you would come home healthy.
you had other plans.
i went to sleep that night feeling both scared and hopeful.
the next night i went to sleep distraught and traumatized.
because you weren't with me.
you were downstairs in the basement in a plastic box dressed in a doll's outfit. cold stiff and purple.
and i spent the next days and nights of my life crying so hard that it hurt. so hard that my eyes looked literally like i had been beaten in a dark alley somewhere. i would wake up wailing because you were gone. all night long.
the next morning. the morning of february 1, 2008 i began to have contractions. the day went by slowly. they moved me to l&d. they gave me an epidural. why not? you weren't likely to live. why should i feel that pain?
i am sorry. i regret that, too. i wish i had felt every second of it. every second of my experience with you. i was scared. and lacked knowledge.
i miss you.
the pediatrician came in to tell us about 22-weekers. you weren't likely to survive. did i want them to be aggressive? if you did survive you would likely have multiple handicaps. i had to give an answer. i had to decide right there on the spot. do i want them to try to save you or to let you go. no mother should have to decide this about her baby.
no. don't be agressive. let him go. i had to say this out loud. this i do not regret.
i knew you, cooper. it wasn't your spirit. you didn't want that fight. you were here for a reason. and it wasn't to live that kind of life.
you were born at 5:04 that day. one pound six ounces. 12 inches long. tiny hands and feet. tiny ears. a tiny head. tiny knees. a strong heartbeat. strong little lungs.
not strong enough.
you were here breathing in my arms for about ten minutes. i held you and cried for you and i told you over and over that i was sorry.
i wish so much that i had known better. that i had done better for you. or at least that you had been born here at home. with meredith guiding you out. and no drugs. i wish i could have bathed you. and that you didn't have to wear that tiny hospital wristband. and that you could have slept with me all night long instead of in the cold darkness all alone. you were gone. you are gone. and there is not a day that i don't think about you.
you were such a tiny person. you had so many lessons for me. i have regrets and wishes. but i know that you had these plans for me. i know that it should not and could not have happened any other way. and if given the chance, i don't think i would choose for it to have happened any other way. i know that i am a better mother because of you. a better person. and that mason, your baby brother, is going to have a better life because of you.
i thank you. we all thank you, cooper.
but there isn't much i wouldn't do just to hold you one more time. to kiss you without tears.
31 January, 2011
28 January, 2011
being your mom
as you fell asleep tonight holding your rubber duck and plastic boat, i thought about what an awesome responsibility it is to be your mom. and i wasn't thinking about all of the typical stuff like having to make sure you are fed and dressed, and catching your puke as you throw up. i was thinking about the really important stuff. about nurturing your soul.
i believe that you, as i believe about your brother, chose me to be your mom. you knew you had things to teach me. in a short 16 months with me plus ten in the belly, you have already taught me countless lessons. you and cooper are my buuddhas.
you are not what i imagined when i imagined having a baby. for some reason i imagined an easy-going baby who would snuggle up with me and just be happy to be held. you are not that baby. you are curious and full of energy. it seems you are never still. not even in your sleep. you only now are beginning to let me hold and snuggle you. you demand that i respond to your needs often before i have had the chance to hear what it is you are trying to say. you want everything that you want five seconds before you communicate it. you are an excellent communicator. you learn faster than i can even keep up with. it's almost as if i hold you back sometimes. even with your tiny legs i often find myself literally running to keep up with you. you have been this way since birth.
obviously then, i am not the mother i imagined. i am more patient than i thought. i care less about a clean house than i thought i would. i allow you do do things i never thought i would. i have plans for us that i never imagined i would have. i follow your lead. when you don't want to put pants on, for whatever reason, i don't make you put pants on. when you want to dump the cheerios all over the floor, i let you. and then i laugh as you stomp them into the rug. i wear wrestling head gear around the house because you ask me to.
i imagine that as you get older i will be even more "lenient" with my "discipline" techniques. i hope that i will be able to sit back and watch you bloom into the miraculous human being that you already are. you are already everything that you will be. i just have to let it happen.
i was reading in a book that raising children is much like planting flowers. the flower is already there. it just has to grow and bloom. you have to care for it, but you have no power to change it. i am so thankful that i am the one who gets to care for you and to watch you bloom.
i only hope that i am able to keep my own story, my own tape recordings about what is right and normal, out of your way. i know that you will help me stay out of your way as you teach me your lessons, and as i tend to your very big - soul.
i believe that you, as i believe about your brother, chose me to be your mom. you knew you had things to teach me. in a short 16 months with me plus ten in the belly, you have already taught me countless lessons. you and cooper are my buuddhas.
you are not what i imagined when i imagined having a baby. for some reason i imagined an easy-going baby who would snuggle up with me and just be happy to be held. you are not that baby. you are curious and full of energy. it seems you are never still. not even in your sleep. you only now are beginning to let me hold and snuggle you. you demand that i respond to your needs often before i have had the chance to hear what it is you are trying to say. you want everything that you want five seconds before you communicate it. you are an excellent communicator. you learn faster than i can even keep up with. it's almost as if i hold you back sometimes. even with your tiny legs i often find myself literally running to keep up with you. you have been this way since birth.
obviously then, i am not the mother i imagined. i am more patient than i thought. i care less about a clean house than i thought i would. i allow you do do things i never thought i would. i have plans for us that i never imagined i would have. i follow your lead. when you don't want to put pants on, for whatever reason, i don't make you put pants on. when you want to dump the cheerios all over the floor, i let you. and then i laugh as you stomp them into the rug. i wear wrestling head gear around the house because you ask me to.
i imagine that as you get older i will be even more "lenient" with my "discipline" techniques. i hope that i will be able to sit back and watch you bloom into the miraculous human being that you already are. you are already everything that you will be. i just have to let it happen.
i was reading in a book that raising children is much like planting flowers. the flower is already there. it just has to grow and bloom. you have to care for it, but you have no power to change it. i am so thankful that i am the one who gets to care for you and to watch you bloom.
i only hope that i am able to keep my own story, my own tape recordings about what is right and normal, out of your way. i know that you will help me stay out of your way as you teach me your lessons, and as i tend to your very big - soul.
21 January, 2011
crying it out
i just finished getting you to sleep. it took a little longer than usual. but you are sleeping soundly for now and i am watching your sweetness on the monitor. there has been a heated debate on one of our friends facebook pages about the "cry-it-out" method of getting babies to learn to sleep on their own. sleep through the night, that is.
i have been hesitant to blog about crying it out. i started a post months ago but never went through with it. it's a touchy subject. we have many friends who have used the techniques of ferber or gary ezzo and other like-minded (mostly) men who want to make millions helping moms get some rest.
and while i love these friends, i do not agree with some (or, for some of them, any) of their parenting techniques. i didn't want to enter the debate with them, because let's face it, i am sure these same friends have lots of feelings of their own about the way i parent you. and just because we disagree, that does not make them bad parents. everyone does the best they can with the knowledge they have.
but inspired today by our good friend, who was brave enough, and antagonistic enough, and humorous enough, to post as her status on facebook that she is sickened by the cry it out technique, i figured why not say what i think. i am sure many of you reading this will become infuriated. many of you will agree wholeheartedly. my intent is not to create strife, but to simply share my feelings and to maybe sway someone who has not yet been swayed by ferber, or worse, ezzo to a more compassionate way of getting babies to sleep.
i have been raising you in a way that some people say is weak or wishy-washy. too lenient. that i let you rule the roost. that i have created a monster who wants to be held all of the time. these are all things i have actually been told, with smiles, of course, as if these people were joking.
my parenting style is based on trying to see the world from a child's eye. from your eyes. you, who want nothing more than to be near me. to feel my breath. my heartbeat. it's all you had known for months in the womb. i was all that you had to trust in this new and probably, at times, frightening, world. and yes, i hold you a lot. i love to hold you. i can't imagine ever regretting that. and i can't imagine ever regretting all of those minutes and hours i have spent lying next to you as you peacefully fall off to sleep.
in the beginning i stressed a lot because you cried all the time. all. the. time. if you weren't crying it was because you were nursing. or sleeping. but you didn't sleep much during the day so you cried a lot. and nursed a lot. i read a lot. this was early on before i trusted myself as a mother. i read books by mostly men about how to get you to sleep like a normal baby. i worried that you wouldn't thrive because you weren't sleeping enough. i couldn't make plans to do anything because you cried all the time. i couldn't go anywhere.
all of my other friends seemed to have it so much easier. their babies slept. they were on schedules. they had cried-it-out.
i tried it once. well actually three times. three naps started with you screaming. you never cried for more than six minutes. i couldn't take it any longer than that. i did all i could not to pick you up after six seconds. i was always right there patting your bum or your belly and shhh-ing you. and telling you i loved you. i will never NEVER forget the look on your face as you looked up at me with tears and red cheeks. your eyes bulging out of your head. reaching your arms out for me to pick you up. it makes me sick and sad to remember it. you were about seven months old. you had only napped on my lap, in the carrier or on my breast. people said i was ruining you. that it was good for him. that it was good for me is really all they meant.
i didn't trust myself. so i did this to you. and i will never forget it. and i will never forgive myself. i look forward to the day when i can tell you how sorry i am. and you can understand.
that last time i did it i scooped you up and apologized. i told you that i would never do that to you again. i held you tight and you fell right to sleep. and i have never done it again. and i never will. if that means that i nurse you to sleep and back to sleep throughout the night until you are three and a half years old, that's what i will do. if it means that when you are nine or twelve i still have to pat your back so you will fall asleep, then i will.
i don't worry that you will never learn to sleep on your own. i don't worry anymore that you are in danger of anything because you don't sleep through the night. after all, i haven't slept through the night in years and years. who has? i do fear that the stress that i caused you as you reached for me screaming did cause you harm. i will never know for sure.
what i am sure of is that once i started trusting myself and doing what felt good and right, you were happier.
i have been hesitant to blog about crying it out. i started a post months ago but never went through with it. it's a touchy subject. we have many friends who have used the techniques of ferber or gary ezzo and other like-minded (mostly) men who want to make millions helping moms get some rest.
and while i love these friends, i do not agree with some (or, for some of them, any) of their parenting techniques. i didn't want to enter the debate with them, because let's face it, i am sure these same friends have lots of feelings of their own about the way i parent you. and just because we disagree, that does not make them bad parents. everyone does the best they can with the knowledge they have.
but inspired today by our good friend, who was brave enough, and antagonistic enough, and humorous enough, to post as her status on facebook that she is sickened by the cry it out technique, i figured why not say what i think. i am sure many of you reading this will become infuriated. many of you will agree wholeheartedly. my intent is not to create strife, but to simply share my feelings and to maybe sway someone who has not yet been swayed by ferber, or worse, ezzo to a more compassionate way of getting babies to sleep.
i have been raising you in a way that some people say is weak or wishy-washy. too lenient. that i let you rule the roost. that i have created a monster who wants to be held all of the time. these are all things i have actually been told, with smiles, of course, as if these people were joking.
my parenting style is based on trying to see the world from a child's eye. from your eyes. you, who want nothing more than to be near me. to feel my breath. my heartbeat. it's all you had known for months in the womb. i was all that you had to trust in this new and probably, at times, frightening, world. and yes, i hold you a lot. i love to hold you. i can't imagine ever regretting that. and i can't imagine ever regretting all of those minutes and hours i have spent lying next to you as you peacefully fall off to sleep.
in the beginning i stressed a lot because you cried all the time. all. the. time. if you weren't crying it was because you were nursing. or sleeping. but you didn't sleep much during the day so you cried a lot. and nursed a lot. i read a lot. this was early on before i trusted myself as a mother. i read books by mostly men about how to get you to sleep like a normal baby. i worried that you wouldn't thrive because you weren't sleeping enough. i couldn't make plans to do anything because you cried all the time. i couldn't go anywhere.
all of my other friends seemed to have it so much easier. their babies slept. they were on schedules. they had cried-it-out.
i tried it once. well actually three times. three naps started with you screaming. you never cried for more than six minutes. i couldn't take it any longer than that. i did all i could not to pick you up after six seconds. i was always right there patting your bum or your belly and shhh-ing you. and telling you i loved you. i will never NEVER forget the look on your face as you looked up at me with tears and red cheeks. your eyes bulging out of your head. reaching your arms out for me to pick you up. it makes me sick and sad to remember it. you were about seven months old. you had only napped on my lap, in the carrier or on my breast. people said i was ruining you. that it was good for him. that it was good for me is really all they meant.
i didn't trust myself. so i did this to you. and i will never forget it. and i will never forgive myself. i look forward to the day when i can tell you how sorry i am. and you can understand.
that last time i did it i scooped you up and apologized. i told you that i would never do that to you again. i held you tight and you fell right to sleep. and i have never done it again. and i never will. if that means that i nurse you to sleep and back to sleep throughout the night until you are three and a half years old, that's what i will do. if it means that when you are nine or twelve i still have to pat your back so you will fall asleep, then i will.
i don't worry that you will never learn to sleep on your own. i don't worry anymore that you are in danger of anything because you don't sleep through the night. after all, i haven't slept through the night in years and years. who has? i do fear that the stress that i caused you as you reached for me screaming did cause you harm. i will never know for sure.
what i am sure of is that once i started trusting myself and doing what felt good and right, you were happier.
12 January, 2011
the video monitor and other things
so my video monitor just died. the video monitor i never thought i would need. or want. or use. the video monitor that we got from our awesome friend, and my mommy guru, lisa. i love the damn thing. though the sound sucks. it makes static noise a lot. and it's a tv monitor so i can't bring it with me anywhere. and i am pretty obsessive, so if i need to go into another room for anything, i run.
our house is small. i mean really small. i can hear you from wherever i am. but i like to get to you before i hear you. before you have to cry. so i see you stir on the monitor and i run.
right now i am in your room while you sleep in our bed. i am right next door so i can get there quick when i hear you cry for me.
i just got done looking online for a new monitor. i checked with aunt kaye-dee to see if they have it in her store. they do. so we will be getting a new one tomorrow. a digital hand-held color monitor. (luckily we still have enough left from grandmom and grandpop's generous monetary christmas gift.) funny how i am desperate for something i never thought i would need...
..which is the opposite of many of the other things i purchased or asked for but later realized i would never use. many of these things i had my reservations about, many were purchased out of desperation when all you did was cry, many were on a whim because you seemed to like something for a moment in the store.
so some advice for my future mom friends who think you may be a bit like me when you are a mom, take my advice and buy the video monitor. make it a color, digital, handheld monitor. splurge for the best. and forego the crib, the co-sleeper, the nursery bedding, the swing, the exersaucer (go for the jumeroo instead, not both!), and the stroller. you don't need a shopping cart cover because baby needs germs. i also never got the infant car seat, and therefore no need for a travel system, and if you aren't going back to work early on don't get the breast pump or any bottles at all, no food processor or anything because baby-led weaning makes sense, no baby bath tub because babies like bathing with their mommy or daddy best of all.
do get an ergo baby carrier. a moby wrap and/or a baby k'tan. a maya wrap and have some good baby-wearing friends show you how to use them. get a king sized firm mattress and put it on your floor. and make sure you read the womanly art of breastfeeding from cover to cover in your first days while baby naps. and yes, it is possible to nap when baby naps. the house will survive the dog hair. the sink will survive the dishes. spend your time bonding with a naked baby. be attached. so baby can attach.
and then sometime when you are ready to sneak away from baby while he or she sleeps in your bed, you will have that baby monitor to carry with you when you have to pee.
our house is small. i mean really small. i can hear you from wherever i am. but i like to get to you before i hear you. before you have to cry. so i see you stir on the monitor and i run.
right now i am in your room while you sleep in our bed. i am right next door so i can get there quick when i hear you cry for me.
i just got done looking online for a new monitor. i checked with aunt kaye-dee to see if they have it in her store. they do. so we will be getting a new one tomorrow. a digital hand-held color monitor. (luckily we still have enough left from grandmom and grandpop's generous monetary christmas gift.) funny how i am desperate for something i never thought i would need...
..which is the opposite of many of the other things i purchased or asked for but later realized i would never use. many of these things i had my reservations about, many were purchased out of desperation when all you did was cry, many were on a whim because you seemed to like something for a moment in the store.
so some advice for my future mom friends who think you may be a bit like me when you are a mom, take my advice and buy the video monitor. make it a color, digital, handheld monitor. splurge for the best. and forego the crib, the co-sleeper, the nursery bedding, the swing, the exersaucer (go for the jumeroo instead, not both!), and the stroller. you don't need a shopping cart cover because baby needs germs. i also never got the infant car seat, and therefore no need for a travel system, and if you aren't going back to work early on don't get the breast pump or any bottles at all, no food processor or anything because baby-led weaning makes sense, no baby bath tub because babies like bathing with their mommy or daddy best of all.
do get an ergo baby carrier. a moby wrap and/or a baby k'tan. a maya wrap and have some good baby-wearing friends show you how to use them. get a king sized firm mattress and put it on your floor. and make sure you read the womanly art of breastfeeding from cover to cover in your first days while baby naps. and yes, it is possible to nap when baby naps. the house will survive the dog hair. the sink will survive the dishes. spend your time bonding with a naked baby. be attached. so baby can attach.
and then sometime when you are ready to sneak away from baby while he or she sleeps in your bed, you will have that baby monitor to carry with you when you have to pee.
02 December, 2010
lessons from mason
before you were born, i had no idea how much being a mom would change my life. i knew i wanted you more than i wanted to breathe my own next breath, but i had no idea that you would immediately become everything to me. i mean everything. you are in every decision i make. in every move. in every thought. as i sit here and type with the knowledge that each key stroke may be the last before i have to run back in to nurse you back to sleep, i can't remember a time when my life wasn't about you. and only you.
your poor daddy. he loves me so much. and he loved the relationship he used to have with his wife. his wife, who is now a mother. he is at uncle kevin's tonight. before you were born i used to hate when he went there. i missed him and wanted him to waste time on the couch watching tv with me. but now i am happy that he has uncle kevin to go to. by the end of the day, i am so tired. i just want my arms back. i want a few minutes in which i can just sit. on the couch. and do nothing. and then go to bed.
i guess when your cousins were little i was too consumed with myself to notice how much work a baby was. although dom was an easy baby and i was around engough to see that. i didn't hang around much when christopher was a baby, but rumor has it that for the beginning months he was a lot like you.
i had no idea. i think back to the beginning with you. the first few days, you were so calm. you just nursed. and slept. and nursed. all the time.
but as the days went on, you needed to nurse. all the time. i had no idea the time that nursing you would take up in my life. cleaning? ha! filling the dogs bowls with water? ha! peeing? showering? shaving my legs? ha ha ha ha ha! i had no time to do anything except sit on the couch and nurse you.
you hated the car. you hated the swing. you hated to be put down. you only wanted to nurse.
and then we had thrush. three times back and forth. my nipples hurt. so badly that i just could not nurse you all the time. so daddy worked his happiest baby on the block magic and would get you to sleep. i would dread the moment you would stir because i knew it meant you'd be back on the boob.
i couldn't sleep. i couldn't figure out how to nurse you lying down. you woke up all night long to nurse. you still do. i haven't slept more than three hours straight in about fourteen months. and three hours is once in a rare while. and i am so happy when i get three hours.
and most nights, it doesn't bother me. most days, the messy house doesn't bother me.
today it does. i look at my what used to be white kitchen floor and i want to scream. the bathroom floor is dirty. there is dust everywhere. and the damn dog hair. there are piles of junk and papers and bills and crap everywhere. laundry. everywhere. shit that needs to get up in the attic. leaves all over the lawn. no christmas lights. a nasty kitchen counter with a nastier sink. dishes in the dishwasher that need to be put away. again. laundry that needs to be washed. again. a to do list that only gets longer. and longer. and i want to scream. and run away. and drink about five and a half beers and pass out.
but i can't. because my baby boy is in my bed. sleeping for now. teething. and coughing with another cold. and you will need me any minute. so this i guess has to be my therapy for now. and i already feel better.
i know that the alternative would be so much worse.
i remember the days when i cried and cried. for weeks. cooper was gone. i had held him and cried to him about how sorry i was that he had gotten so screwed. his entire short life, all he heard was his mommy and daddy srying. and he felt us loving him. weeks and months went by before i began to feel like a new sort of normal person.
and then there were the months of negative pregnancy tests. and periods. and fights with your dad. and tears. we wanted you so badly we could taste it.
and then we got pregnant. after shots and ultrasounds and blood tests and acupuncture and herbs. and i was so cautious. so careful about everything i heard and thought and saw and drank. about every move i made because i was terrified to lose you.
and now you are here. for almost fourteen months you have been here. and my life will never be the same. i sometimes feel as if i don't have my own life at all anymore. you are my life. my everything.
you were not an easy infant. you are not an easy toddler. you are demanding. and expressive. and needy. and i am responsive. and exhausted. and in love with you.
you are happier every day. you learn new things all the time. and my eyes never tire of staring at you. i never tire of kissing you. and of snuggling with you. i sometimes wish i had an easy baby. but then i realize that you are teaching me all of the lessons i need to know. you chose me for a reason. and i am so thankful for that.
your poor daddy. he loves me so much. and he loved the relationship he used to have with his wife. his wife, who is now a mother. he is at uncle kevin's tonight. before you were born i used to hate when he went there. i missed him and wanted him to waste time on the couch watching tv with me. but now i am happy that he has uncle kevin to go to. by the end of the day, i am so tired. i just want my arms back. i want a few minutes in which i can just sit. on the couch. and do nothing. and then go to bed.
i guess when your cousins were little i was too consumed with myself to notice how much work a baby was. although dom was an easy baby and i was around engough to see that. i didn't hang around much when christopher was a baby, but rumor has it that for the beginning months he was a lot like you.
i had no idea. i think back to the beginning with you. the first few days, you were so calm. you just nursed. and slept. and nursed. all the time.
but as the days went on, you needed to nurse. all the time. i had no idea the time that nursing you would take up in my life. cleaning? ha! filling the dogs bowls with water? ha! peeing? showering? shaving my legs? ha ha ha ha ha! i had no time to do anything except sit on the couch and nurse you.
you hated the car. you hated the swing. you hated to be put down. you only wanted to nurse.
and then we had thrush. three times back and forth. my nipples hurt. so badly that i just could not nurse you all the time. so daddy worked his happiest baby on the block magic and would get you to sleep. i would dread the moment you would stir because i knew it meant you'd be back on the boob.
i couldn't sleep. i couldn't figure out how to nurse you lying down. you woke up all night long to nurse. you still do. i haven't slept more than three hours straight in about fourteen months. and three hours is once in a rare while. and i am so happy when i get three hours.
and most nights, it doesn't bother me. most days, the messy house doesn't bother me.
today it does. i look at my what used to be white kitchen floor and i want to scream. the bathroom floor is dirty. there is dust everywhere. and the damn dog hair. there are piles of junk and papers and bills and crap everywhere. laundry. everywhere. shit that needs to get up in the attic. leaves all over the lawn. no christmas lights. a nasty kitchen counter with a nastier sink. dishes in the dishwasher that need to be put away. again. laundry that needs to be washed. again. a to do list that only gets longer. and longer. and i want to scream. and run away. and drink about five and a half beers and pass out.
but i can't. because my baby boy is in my bed. sleeping for now. teething. and coughing with another cold. and you will need me any minute. so this i guess has to be my therapy for now. and i already feel better.
i know that the alternative would be so much worse.
i remember the days when i cried and cried. for weeks. cooper was gone. i had held him and cried to him about how sorry i was that he had gotten so screwed. his entire short life, all he heard was his mommy and daddy srying. and he felt us loving him. weeks and months went by before i began to feel like a new sort of normal person.
and then there were the months of negative pregnancy tests. and periods. and fights with your dad. and tears. we wanted you so badly we could taste it.
and then we got pregnant. after shots and ultrasounds and blood tests and acupuncture and herbs. and i was so cautious. so careful about everything i heard and thought and saw and drank. about every move i made because i was terrified to lose you.
and now you are here. for almost fourteen months you have been here. and my life will never be the same. i sometimes feel as if i don't have my own life at all anymore. you are my life. my everything.
you were not an easy infant. you are not an easy toddler. you are demanding. and expressive. and needy. and i am responsive. and exhausted. and in love with you.
you are happier every day. you learn new things all the time. and my eyes never tire of staring at you. i never tire of kissing you. and of snuggling with you. i sometimes wish i had an easy baby. but then i realize that you are teaching me all of the lessons i need to know. you chose me for a reason. and i am so thankful for that.
15 November, 2010
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.
02 November, 2010
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.
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.
06 September, 2010
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.
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.
03 September, 2010
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.
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.
25 August, 2010
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.
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.
16 August, 2010
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.)
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.)
09 August, 2010
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.
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.
07 August, 2010
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.
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.
28 June, 2010
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.
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.
20 June, 2010
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.
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.
14 June, 2010
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.
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.
16 May, 2010
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.
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.
30 September, 2009
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.
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.
24 September, 2009
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.
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.
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