I shaved my legs for this... aka Baby El's birth story

Julie over at The Progressive Parent came up with this lovely idea she's dubbing #birthstrong. The idea is that through sharing the stories of our children's birth we can spread awareness of women's choices in birth, and feel the connection that all Mother's share.

Before I can tell Baby El's birth story I need to share with you my sister's, my mother's and her mother's birth stories. I'll be brief. My Grandmother was born in 1931, premature and very tiny, to a tiny woman. My Great-Grandmother Mercedes had the cards stacked against her, with PreEclampsia, Cephalopelvic Disproportion and Placenta Previa, my Grandmother entered this world through an incision on her mother's abdomen. Twenty one years later, my Mother made her entrance the same way. The reasoning? Cephalopelvic Disproportion, reportedly my Grandmother's pelvis was too narrow for any baby to be born through. I later learned that the doctor's never gave my Grandmother the chance to try, cut her open without a sign of a contraction on the horizon. Can't blame her, assuming you completely trust your doctors and they tell you a C-section was inevitable wouldn't you schedule it as well? Fast forward to 1981, my Mother a woman who inherited my Grandfather's tall and linebacker build, is in labor with my sister. The cards as slightly stacked against her, PreEclampsia, extra fluffy and high C-section rates. After sixteen hours of a labor by all accounts she managed well, the doctor's said it was time, baby's heart rate was dropping, she wasn't coming out the traditional way. She was wheeled to an OR and my sister, with her cord around her neck, was born shortly afterward. Three years later I was a repeat C-Section, complete with a cute story of my Dad's coworkers not believing I was going to be born that day.

Growing up I heard these stories of the three direct generations of Women before me delivering their children in the OR, constantly hearing that our "Pelvises are just too small". I accepted this as fact and repeated this to anyone when a conversation would come up about child birth. I was going to have a C-Section, my pelvis was too small. Fact.

When I became pregnant, I asked my original OB about my pelvis during the initial exam at my very first appointment. Maybe I thought it was a good follow up to my usual ice breaker "You know I normally make someone buy me dinner first..."? To be completely fair to her she did tell me it was narrow but that the relaxin hormone can and does widen the pelvis up. She made a big point about not counting out vaginal birth without having a Trial of Labor. I noted this and basically brushed her off mentally, here was my proof. My pelvis is too small, I'm broken. Much like needing artificial implements to see I would need doctor's to deliver my child(ren).

 At seven months pregnant, while on a trip with my extended family to New Orleans, my cousin says something that resonated with me. Summed up it was "Don't count yourself out, you could have a vaginal birth. You never know.". Fueled with this revelation, I researched, read books on natural Childbirth (another post) and in a hormone craze did a 180 on my birthing stance. They had been wrong before, given the right support and time I could do this. I wasn't broken.

With the exception of one high blood sugar level during a Glucose Test, and nausea in months three through six I had an easy pregnancy. Finally after what felt like an eternity my due date came, and I met it with grumpiness. I'd been into L&D two days earlier and was barely one centimeter dilated, so I was sure I was going over that date. I walked, I hopped, I squatted while telling baby to "GET OUT", I asked for the spiciest meal at a Chinese restaurant and I bitched. Oh how I bitched. On roughly four occasions that I night I had what I felt was a cross between a Braxton Hicks contraction and my baby kicking the crap out of my cervix, they didn't take my breath away but they forced me to sit up perfectly erect. Awkward while driving and didn't improve my mood. It was further proof I was in for a long two weeks. I still somewhat hopefully informed my husband "Maybe we'll have a baby tomorrow." He might have rolled his eyes at me. Sometime that night I went to bed, and woke up around 2 in the morning to pee like usual.

Friday, 4:30 am

I'm suddenly awake, and I know I'm in labor. My contractions feel like menstrual cramps, icky and deep inside of my uterus. I get up, as each contraction hits I have to walk, I have to move. I can't sit still, I can't go back to sleep, I tried to on the couch and couldn't. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a zombie in the mornings and I hate be awake at a ungodly hour (aka any time before 10). Going back to sleep sounds delicious to me at this moment but it's not working, I try to lay back down in bed and hop out with a whine during a contraction. Not from the pain, I'm pissed that I can't go back to sleep. I had been rolling my hips in figure eights and swaying side to side for months prior to this day as it was the only way to relieve pressure. I can't honestly remember if I continued to do so in the moments between contractions or during, I mainly remember my desire to walk away from myself. Sometime after the start of labor I start timing my contractions, just for shits and giggles. I have my 40 week appointment at 2:30 pm and I know I'll go in for that and only be 3 centimeters dilated. It's going to be a long weekend I tell myself over and over.

5:00 or 5:30 am

I'm in the guest bathroom, letting my husband sleep, and relieving myself (TMI?). While engaging in that and between contractions I'm googling on my cell phone "contractions under five minutes apart but less then a minute in length". Lovely Google confirms my suspicions, I was likely in Early Labor and it could be hours if not days of this. Bastards I mutter.

Lazy

Take notes ladies and gents, I'm going to lay some Mom knowledge on you that will rock your world. You know that moment of the day (or all day) were you sit down on your cushy behind and space out for a bit? Or where your Facebook, Twitter, etc gets updated? Actually this moment, were you found my blog and are now reading it.

So thinking of the moment, and not including nap time, what is your child(ren) doing right now? Mine is riding her plastic rocking horse backwards and shoving blocks inside of a receptacle that takes balls. I tell myself she's a creative thinker and is trying to get the world to conform to her not the other way around.

If your child(ren) are playing happily by themselves pat yourself on the back. You're not neglecting your child or ignoring them for your own selfish desires, thank you Attachment Parenting for further Mom Guilt. Your playing child is engaging in Exploratory Free Play, and is learning through exploring their environment safely. There are preschools dedicated to this type of learning, think Montessori.

See? You didn't need a fancy degree to instinctually stimulate your child's curiosity of the world and problem solving skills. The only tools you need are a phone with Internet capabilities, the Facebook app and enough toys to supply a daycare. Good to go. Now excuse me, there is a ball I need to pry out of a block shaped receptacle.

Note: there hasn't been a sarcasm font invented yet, so I'm going to add this disclaimer. Obviously if you're going to let your child play on their own you should be supervising and the environment should be a safe one. Outlets plugged, no knives etc.

Three pots, two mixing bowls and the kitchen sink...

When I see something cool online, an awesome dress pattern for Baby El or a yummy recipe I think "oh yea, I can totally do that!". Reality? My sewing experience is limited to the one pair of leggings I made for Baby El out of an old Maternity Shirt of mine. They're fairly laughable. The top seam is thicker in some parts and thinner in others, and when I went to reinforce the crotch I made the pants tighter. On the plus side the side seams look professional, of course that's because they are since I cut the original material along the existing seam.

Let's be honest though, I still think I'll be able to hand sew a quilt made out of my daughter's baby clothes. My husband calls this denial "wasteful" and usually rolls his eyes when I bring home new projects that in his words (and mine at the end) will just collect dust. As for me? I call it confidence, I am convinced that I can tackle almost any project I truly set my mind to. Or at the least I'm going to try! I am woman hear me roar and all that. As a side note, this confidence/denial extends beyond the "traditional womanly arts" and I think with the right plan, tools and so on I can build furniture. Yes, despite shoving a knife in my nose, I still think in my mind that I am safe to handle a table saw. Just keep 911 on speed dial and a tourniquet handy...

Which comes to where we're at right now, with a big hole in the middle of my house and what was once our guest bathroom. It was previously so Handi-capable chic! The previous owner had widened the door; installed a handicap shower which basically looks like a tub with the apron removed & laid down on the floor and handle bars all over; and built a cubby for the bolted to the wall sink. It was very wheelchair accessible and I'm sure made the previous tenant capable of taking care of the basic needs I take for granted. Except for the shower part, with a screaming baby I am grateful for every single shower I take. In the end though, with the unfortunate exception of one member of our family, we had no need for a wheelchair acessible/handicapable bathroom and are in the process of tearing it all out. Baby needs a tub and we need a much more practical set-up.

Since my husband is mainly doing all the work I've been offering assistance. Asking him what I can do to help during the babies naps and all. Sunday he said "you can crawl under the house and dig holes".

Me: uuuhhhh.... What? How? You'll have to show me

Any kid with shovel experience can dig a stupid hole, I know that. But apparently my "I can do it!!" attitude only extends to things I can take credit for. No one wants to crawl under my old house so I can show off the lame holes I dug. How's that for a party trick?

" Come see what I did in the bathroom! ...... Oh, no my husband did all the tiling, demo, flooring, but see I did the crucial stuff! I dug the holes for the concrete jacks that lifted our house back up, without that we'd have a slanted floor! .... No I didn't use a sand bucket and plastic shovel... Assholes"

Narcissistic much?

*the picture is where the shower used to be, that's now the only semi-completed space. The rest is just floor beams.

Baby says...

If my ten month old daughter could journal I'm pretty sure she'd have this to say about today:

Mom fed me yellow goodness (egg yolks) today, but snuck in some green crap. Sure I ate a quarter of it, I didn't want her to think I was completely ungrateful. But I had to put my foot down & tell her I would not stand for this! She gave me some banana and then taunted me by keeping the rest just out of reach. As a warning of further action if I was not promptly given more banana, I proceeded to wipe my banana covered hands all over the dining table and in her hair if she was silly enough to get close.

Best food of the day?
1) my feet
2) my right shoe
3) blueberry yogurt Mom fed me at the coffee place
4) the silver spoon

Most WTF moments of the day?:
1) Mom putting me in a ruffled monstrosity & then wondering why I looked like a butterball turkey. It was unacceptable.
2) the cat licking his lips at me while I looked like a stuffed turkey.
3) Mom complaining when I followed her into the bathroom. Only fair after she changes the diaper I'd worked so hard to make warm.
4) Mom letting me shut myself in the bedroom. Then "pretending" she can't find me.
5) Not being allowed to eat a pen.

There was this guy at the store wearing blue pjs that I wanted to follow home. I need to learn how he got his Mom to let him stays in pjs all day.