The One About the Newborn

All photos taken by Christy Gant at Studio 9 Photography.

Gwen is now almost 5 weeks old. It is incredibly insane how quickly the last month has gone by. People always tell you how quickly time goes when you have children and they weren't kidding. Right now my life mainly revolves around this little girl.

Right after her birth, my first thought was "I am never doing this again...ever." Every time I thought about giving birth, I felt traumatized. When I saw the clothes I wore to the hospital, I was stricken with fear. I couldn't even listen to my labor playlist in fear of having flashbacks. But then, Gwen and I have moments like this:

And I remember why I did what I did and birth doesn't seem that traumatic anymore. There is a sort of amnesia that happens. While I remember being in intense pain, I also feel detached from it. As if it wasn't really me that gave birth or like I watched it on TV and sympathized with the woman pushing on the bed for 43 minutes. So, the next birth will not involve meds though I am sure when the time comes I will be begging Joseph for them just as I did with Gwen's birth.

Our first night home with her, I was so scared that she was going to die. I cried so much that night and Joseph just held me and prayed for me. I was extremely emotional for the next few days, overwhelmed with the thought of having to care for this little creature in such a scary world. I felt irresponsible for bringing her into such a crazy place. But I was also overwhelmed with love not only for Gwen but a new kind of love for my husband. Both loves were much more intense than I could ever have imagined.

We are slowly getting used to each other. Getting to know each other. She knows that I will pick her up when she cries (not fusses...but truly cries) and that I am the keeper of the milk. I know that she likes to bounce in her Daddy's arms and that no amount of coercing will get her to take a pacifier. 

Though there have been so many sweet moments with our little Gwenrito, (or Nugget, Ducky, Gwen-a-roo, Gwinnie-the-Pooh....so many nicknames!) there have also been many frustrating moments for me that leave me feeling extremely guilty. If I can't figure out why she cries, I get mad and I know she can sense it. It makes me feel as if I am a bad mother - only a month in and already getting frustrated to the point of tears. I had prepared myself so well for birth but failed to prepare for life after birth.

Many of us do this with weddings as well. We plan our perfect day - focus on our dress being just right and get upset if our bridesmaids don't do as we ask. We cry if our cake is the wrong shade of white. Our attention is completely diverted to the physical aspects and we forget to prepare for the aftermath. I know I did and our marriage suffered for the first year because of it.

I am glad that I am recognizing this now, instead of a year from now. This time I won't become disconnected, discontent and defiant towards our little family as I did when we first became man and wife. It is an extreme life-alterning event and being prepared (well as prepared as one can be) is so important.

There are a few things I know: her smile is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. More beautiful than the ocean and the view of the clouds from above. Baby poop no longer scares me as it once did and yes, sometimes there is projectile poop (as we learned on our first night home with her). Finally, I have the most amazing little family.

Saying Adieu to the Baby Bump

I miss my bump. Before I was pregnant I had a fear of getting big - of my body changing and not being able to recognize myself after the bump was gone.

But now that my tummy has deflated, I kind of want it back. It isn't only the look of being pregnant that I loved (minus the swelling) it was feeling my little mermaid inside of me, kicking and swimming around in her private hot tub.

I was one of the lucky ones, no stretch  marks have taken residence and I have pretty much gone back to the way I was before getting pregnant (actually losing 10 additional pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight). Things are a little bit more saggy and my naval ring has permanently found it's home in my jewelry box (but let's face it - I am 27...it's probably time for me to say goodbye to that piece of metal anyway).

I miss rubbing my tummy and resting my hands on the bulge. I miss watching it move with my little one's movements - especially the morse code-like movements when she had the hiccups. I miss people telling me that I "barely" looked pregnant at 6 months. Such a compliment for someone like me who has had body-image issues.

Luckily, Joseph and I decided to have maternity photos taken by the wonderful Christy Gant at Studio 9 Photography.

On a beautiful, South Carolina December day, we headed out to the Sandhill REC Farmer's Market property (owned by Clemson University...in no way do I support Clemson. My husband on the other hand...).

This was a day where I wasn't feeling beautiful  but more swollen and large. Christy made me feel completely comfortable and beautiful and the confidence showed in the photos.

After the farmers market, we went to a christmas tree stand right down the road. The gentleman that worked the stand was very gracious in letting us use the stand!

I cannot even begin to explain how happy I am that we have this brief moment in our lives captured in photographs. I also cannot begin to say how happy I am that we found Christy!

So while I have said goodbye to my baby bump and hello to a precious little girl, I know that the future holds at least two more baby bumps for me! 

Just for fun....here are a few more:

The One About Birthing. Part III.

The time had come. All of the uncertainty, pain, sadness, joy, mystery, beauty and love of the past year and a half since we had lost Lord Voldemort (for more on Lord Volde, click here) had come to this. 

The birth of our little girl.

Going into this pregnancy, I knew that I wanted to have a natural birth. There had never been any doubt that I wanted to forgo the stress of an epidural as my unnatural fear of needles hindered my mind of even thinking about getting one. 

In order to prepare for a natural birth I read all of the books, the Bradley Method, Hypnobirthing:The Mongan Method, Ina May's Guide to Childbirth, What to Expect When You're Expecting...I watched videos on Youtube of women -  strong, beautiful woman, bringing babies into the world without the aid of pain medication or hospitals for that matter (most of the videos were of waterbirthing at home). I wanted to know what I was in for, what the pain would be like. I was hoping that these texts and testimonials of births would give me some indication of the adventure I was about to embark on. I will tell you that no amount of reading, listening or watching could prepare me for what would come after the initial onset of labor.

As you read before, everything up to this point had gone pretty well. (Click for Part I or Part II) The pain was becoming unbearable. The midwife, Debbie, had finally shown up and it felt like a bowling ball was about to be pushed out of my bum.

What started everything was not my desire to push (though the desire was there) but rather that Gwen's heart rate dropped significantly low, low enough that the midwife came into the room to check me and instruct me to start pushing.

Out of the whole labor process, this was the time I most felt out of control. I wasn't prepared for what I was supposed to do. Yes, I know, push the baby out. But how? 

Debbie, the nurses and my mom where "yelling" at me to PUSH PUSH PUSH. And boy, did I push. I thought if I kept my eyes open that they would pop out of my skull, so I learned to keep my eyes shut during the pushing. I ended up busting a blood vessel in my right eye and vessels in my right eye lid because of how hard I was pushing. My mom held back one leg and Joseph held back the other. Honestly, how do women use the stirrups? I thought I was pretty flexible and there was no way my long legs were fitting in those stirrups.

Someone kept telling me to use my legs as leverage to push, but I was working against myself, pulling my legs up and in and stead of up and out. After several attempts at grasping my legs, I guess I got it right and I got into a better rhythm of pushing.

Here is where things went wrong: I thought with every contraction that I was supposed to be pushing Gwen out, instead of slowly working her down. I quickly got discouraged, wondering why I wasn't succeeding in getting her out into the world. I should have voiced my concern, annoyance and confusion but I didn't. The feeling of being out of control was overwhelming. I remember thinking that I couldn't do it anymore but what choice do you have when your little one depends on you?

At one point, the midwife told me to stop pushing which you would think would be a relief but not when every fiber of your being wants - no needs - to push. Oxygen was placed over my nose. I can still remember the strong, manufactured smell of the plastic face mask. I don't remember very well, but my mom said I had to quit pushing for 12 minutes as Gwen's heart rate dropped significantly again.

Then a doctor came in.

 I had never seen said doctor in my life. It is never comforting to hear a doctor ask "is there a heartbeat" when you are in the middle of attempting to push said heartbeat out of your body. I'm sure the midwife said something reassuring that I don't remember (who am I kidding...I don't remember a lot of this. I had to ask my mom a TON of questions about what happened because as I said before, I felt completely out of control and out of it.)

Eventually I was able to push again. And push. And push. And push. I pushed for what seemed like forever, falling over to my right side like a tree after every 10-second pushing session. I was almost waiting for Joseph to say "Tiiiiiimber" as I kept falling over.

After 43 minutes of pushing, Gwendolyn's head popped out. People had told me about the "ring of fire" that you feel as the baby's head crowns but it was one sensation I didn't have. In a way, I was disappointed. I had a morbid wish that I would silently sing Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" as the head emerged. 

Side note: While Gwen was being born, my dear 21 year old sister was by my head. When all of the blood and fluids came out she passed out. Between that and my making mooing noises earlier in the labor, I am pretty sure I scarred her for life. End side note.

As her head emerged, Debbie told me to once again, stop pushing. At 8:13 pm, after 16  hours of labor (3 hours of active labor) I had the greatest feeling of relief. In an instant, the pain went away and all 7 pounds 5 ounces and 20 inches of Gwendolyn Raye left the confines of my womb and entered the world. They laid her on my stomach and Joseph cut the cord (which he said felt like cutting through a big slab of bacon. Mmmm bacon.)

Nurses then whisked her away to the other side of the room to check her out since her heart rate had been so low and  meconium was present in the fluids.

I asked Debbie if I had tore and I was taken by surprise when she said I had second degree tears due to Gwen's shoulders (she will probably be a swimmer with those broad shoulders!). Debbie then began the process of stitching me up which was not that painful considering what I had just been through. 

Not much later, they brought Gwen to me and I got to hold her and feed her for the first time. 

I don't know how some women actually look gorgeous after giving birth. I look like death.

Up next: After the delivery. Feelings and thoughts on giving birth naturally.

The One About Birthing. Part II.

"On a scale of 1-10, what is your level of pain?" 

Before January 18, my level 10 of pain was when I broke my toe. I was 15 and tripped over my brother's guitar amplifier. Or maybe it was when my face was mauled by a dog when I was 2 (or was I 3) but I don't remember that pain. 

The thing about pain is that it is relative, it is personal. No one experiences pain the same way just as no one experiences music, art or life in the same way. Sometimes pain is beautiful and in the moment it doesn't seem that way, but looking back it is the most beautiful feeling.

This was one of those times.

After I recovered from the intense trauma of receiving an IV (click here to read Part I, detailing the traumatic event of getting an IV) and antibiotics, I began laboring the way I had planned. By this time, I was having contractions that were extremely uncomfortable but were manageable through slow, even breathing, silence by those in the room (including nurses...I was not hesitant to tell a nurse to give me a second if I was working through a contraction) and by focusing on my labor playlist. For me, during centimeters 4-7, music was the greatest help, singing through the contractions helped them pass more quickly and relaxed my body and mind. I found that worship music was the best.

While not hooked up on the monitor, I was able to use the birthing ball and walk the halls to help labor progress. I visited our family in the waiting room and went by the nursery to look at the cute babies and remind myself why I was doing what I was doing. 

At about 5:30, Joseph encouraged me to get up to walk the halls... again... despite my reluctance to do so. I wanted to lie in bed but he won out in the end and I began my waddle down the halls that went like this: waddle, waddle, waddle, stop and lean on the rail, waddle, waddle waddle, lean on rail. When we got back to the room, labor had progressed and the midwife mentioned the option of breaking my water which after talking it over we decided to do. While the procedure wasn't painful, it was incredibly uncomfortable but it made things move much more quickly (and I think made the contractions a lot worse than they should have been) and before I knew it I wasn't handling the pain as well as before.

This is where the fecal material made contact with the rotary air stirrer.

I remember looking at the clock. 7 pm. The nurse checked me and I was only 8-9 centimeters. My thoughts were as follows:

"Wait, what? That's it? Surely I was 10 centimeters and ready to push out this baby out."

"Why was the midwife not here? Doesn't she know that I am about to pop a baby out?"

"Why does it feel like I need to poop out a bowling ball? Certainly babies still come out of the lady parts not the bum."

"WHY IS THE MIDWIFE NOT HERE???"

 No amount of breathing would help ease the discomfort and by this time I was begging Joseph for medicine in between attempting to munch on ice chips. Repeating, "I can't do this." At one point, I yelled out the "F" word and I might have hit the side of the bed. I immediately apologized to those in the room (mostly to the nurses). I'm not sure why I cared what they thought about me but I wanted them to know that I usually didn't yell out cuss words. No amount of begging resulted in me getting the meds I so desperately felt I needed at the time. 

During all of this, I felt completely out of control. The pain was overwhelming and I couldn't focus. Joseph and my doula (who is also my mom who I cannot imagine not having at the birth. Please, please, please do yourself a favor and have a doula at your birth) were flanking the bed, my knees resting on their sides. At one point Joseph left the bedside (and made my leg move) to get some water and I am pretty sure I threatened his life. I would thrash my head side to side, I felt my hair getting more and more knotted each time I turned my head but I didn't care. I tried imagining the muscles of my uterus bringing my little one down into the birth canal (I read a book that says that would work).

By this point everything was hazy. I'm not quite sure when nurses started prepping the labor room but seeing them lay out blue paper and medical equipment was reassuring. And I mean a little reassuring. Like the size of a pea reassuring.

Then I saw the face of an angel, my midwife.

It was time.

The One About Birthing. Part I.

I imagined it would be easy to write this post, after-all, how hard is it to describe labor and delivery? Well, apparently harder than I expected. The experience is so completely emotional, physical and spiritual that mere words hardly begin to do it justice. For the sake of getting it out there, I will start out at the beginning. (Note: More than likely I will skip around with past and present tense...sooo get over it. Creative license.)

Picture it... Columbia. 4:00 am on Friday, January 18. Four days shy of my due date. I woke from sleep with a pain that can honestly be described as premenstrual cramps. Except that I was pregnant and by the grace of God hadn't had any of those cramps in 9 months (one of the upsides to pregnancy). I laid there for 30 minutes, timing the contractions, they ranged 5-6 minutes apart  but did not come at regular intervals or last for more than a minute each. I woke Joseph up to let him know that I was contracting and that these were not like the Braxton-Hicks contractions I had been having for weeks prior...these added an additional punch. I told him to sleep and I went to wake my mom (she had come for the weekend to help out since I was still on bed rest). We stayed up, I ate breakfast and took a shower making sure to shave my legs because who wants to push a baby out with prickly legs? Not this girl.

The contractions came in waves and I breathed through them. Closing my eyes and not-so-gently letting Joseph and my mom know to not talk to me during these waves. Around 11:00 the contractions had steadily made it to 4-5 minutes apart and lasted more than a minute so we headed to Lexington Medical Center.

They took me back to a room where they hooked my cute, oh-so glorious tummy to a monitor and watched for the contractions. At this point I had made it to 4 centimeters and was feeling great. After about an hour they decided to admit me to the hospital. I was officially going to pop this baby out.

We moved into a spacious birthing room and this is where the trauma started. An IV. If any of you know me well, you know my fear of needles. Not blood or gore. Needles. In the form of a shot or an IV. Since I was Beta Strep positive I had to be hooked up to antibiotics to ensure that Gwen wouldn't be harmed during delivery. So, Funny Nurse comes to hook me up and I gently tell her that I have belonephobia (yes...it is a legit fear). She laughs and mentions one of the midwives that has it as well. 

I did not laugh.

Funny Nurse starts the IV (after giving me a shot of a numbing medicine? Seriously...what is the point...either way I am getting stuck)...and I begin to have tunnel vision. Joseph and Mom are in the room and people are talking to me. I am super hot and feel like I am out of my body. People are talking to me but I don't understand them and I attempt to let them know that I am not doing well. (My mom later said that it came out in a terrible slur). Funny Nurse was no longer funny, she was rather the bane of my existence. With the IV in, I began to recover.

Honestly, my first thought after surviving the IV was, "Labor is going to be a breeze after this". Little did I know...

38 weeks

First: Go guess Gwen's birthday, weight and length! 

Click Here!

Who ever has the lowest score wins. Wins what you ask? Love and maybe a beer.

Only two weeks remaining (give or take). After my maternity photography session with the wonderful Christy Gantt of Studio 9 Photography, I really haven't taken many photos of myself.

There was the obligatory beach photo session that I had with my mom, but when you are born and raised on the coast, with salt water in your veins it is a must-do.

At my 37 week appointment, my blood pressure was something stupid like 170/101, they had me lay down and it went down to a more appropriate measurement. Over the next few days, with headaches and not being able to regulate my BP on my own, I went to the hospital where they ran blood work and other tests (including hooking me up to a fetal monitor where I got to hear my little girl have the hiccups twice in the two hours I was there...it was quite funny and hard not to laugh at her).

That's when it happened. I was sentenced to full bed rest. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Just get on your left side and stay there. At first it was hard, I didn't really understand what bed rest meant. I mean, I might have taken a trip to Lowe's after my appointment to get tile for our backsplash. I continued to dilly dally around the house, loading the dishwasher and what not, always checking my BP and making sure to lie down whenever it got in the scary diastolic 100 range.

But then I was reprimanded by many people including my husband and mother (and later the midwife). So now I spend my days on my side watching documentaries that I would never have watched on Netflix. Catching up on TV shows that have passed me by in the two years since I haven't had cable and I can honestly say that cable TV is overrated. With a million and one things to do, I am lucky to have my husband to cook and take care of my, my mom to drive 2 hours to take my laundry to the laundry-mat because our washing machine is on the fritz and a plethora of other people that have sent food and love my way.

How far along?  38 weeks

Total weight gain/loss? Let's see....I gained 25 pounds but then lost 6 due to being on bed rest so a total of 19 pounds!

Maternity clothes?  Kind of? I am mostly lounging around in sweatpants and Joseph's t-shirts nowadays.

Stretch marks?I am glad to say that I still have yet to get a stretch mark due to the fact that I am so tall and I am not "showing" as much. The ultrasound tech was surprised when she knew how far along I was because my tummy is "small".

Sleep?  It is what it is. I wake up 5-6 times a night to pee. Sometimes I wake up for an hour or so only to go back to bed and sleep until an ungodly hour (11 am anyone?)

Best moment last week? Definitely my mom coming up to help with all of the chores and getting Gwen's room ready. Don't know what I would do without her. Another highlight are Gwen's hiccups. They make me laugh because I can only imagine how frustrated I would be if I had them!

Movement?  She is a mover and a shaker. Joseph has gotten to see her make waves in my tummy and it really is one of the most unworldly things. 

 Food cravings? None. I just want bad food. Cheeseburgers mainly. Mmmm.

Gender? She is still a she and forever a she shall she be.

Labor signs? Zero. Just some Braxton-Hicks. When I went to my OB appointment on Tuesday they checked my cervix to see if there was any dilation or thinning....zero. But I will tell you one thing: IT HURTS! I thought it was going to be a breeze but that woman almost killed me.

Belly button in/out? Innie...at least for now. I think that it wants to stick out....but I am hoping it decides to stay in!

What I miss: Doing laundry....not! I do miss being able to do housework because everything that I usually do is put off on Joseph and he has a million and one things to do.

What I am looking forward to: Gwendolyn's arrival! I am ready to start my life with her in it.

Funny Story:  Well...it is really an inappropriate story that I will not write here because it involves my cervix check, a comment about short fingers and a member of my husband's anatomy. The nurse got a good kick out of it though. 

Eventually I will get photos of the nursery up. It will probably be after Gwen gets here but I am not one of those go get-em types.

35 weeks and counting

It is hard to write about my joy in the midst of the sorrow that a nation has felt since Friday. I place my hand on my stomach and wish that Gwendolyn would be born into a peaceful world where all children were safe and their greatest worry was what kind of mudpie they would make that day. But since the beginning of mankind, there has been this thing called sin and this thing called choice. And we make the choice to sin and that sin can devastate people's lives whether it is by telling a lie or murdering innocent people. 

So, 35 weeks. I am at the point where my sister-in-law was at when she was induced with Jackson due to high blood pressure. If I were her, Gwendolyn would make her grande entrance tomorrow. I have a scheduled ultrasound tomorrow because I am measuring a little small. At 34 weeks, I was only measuring 32 weeks, so tomorrow is to make sure that Gwen is growing well and that I have plenty of amniotic fluid. My best guess is that Gwendolyn has decided to take up residence more in the inside of my body than on the outside, which would explain the small measurement. Either way, I get to see my little girl tomorrow and that excites me!

In other news, Joseph and I had our maternity photos taken last week. We met with Christy Gantt of Studio 9 photography located near Sumter, SC. We met at a beautiful red barn near sundown to capture some pics before moving on to a Christmas tree farm. Christy was fun to work with and made our photo shoot relaxed and easy by letting us improvise but also gently directing us.

How far along?  35 weeks

Total weight gain/loss?  18 pounds! So we will see my grand total of weight gain during tomorrow's appointment.

Maternity clothes?  What else is there?

Stretch marks? None yet...but I am sure they are coming and I heard that sometimes they occur overnight.

Sleep?  Sleep has been better as I have gotten the acid reflux under control. Though I find myself waking up 4-5 times a night to pee or just to toss and turn.

Best moment last week? Just watching Gwen roll around in my belly. Sometimes it feels like she is sliding into home plate. She goes from one side of my tummy to the other like a flash of lightening! Joseph and I also worked on the nursery and it is coming along quite well.

Movement?  She is always moving around and has been having the cutest hiccups!  At first I thought it was just an intense heartbeat but then I realized what it was and I melted!

 Food cravings? None. Sometimes eggrolls.

Gender? She is still a she and forever a she shall she be.

Labor signs? Maybe? I am new to the pregnancy thing. Someitmes it feels as if my uterus gets tight but there is no pain associated with it, so maybe it is a Braxton-Hicks? Who knows...

Belly button in/out? Completely in. Though I can roll it out a little and it looks like an outie! I am hoping it stays an innie though...outies freak me out.

What I miss: Seeing my toes.

What I am looking forward to: Gwendolyn's arrival! I am ready to start my life with her in it.

Funny Story:  I had my first "sneeze and pee" session. That was interesting.