Crazy Wallpaper

Just when I think things are not hectic enough I choose to throw another wrinkle in just as we are about to meet our second son. We are buying a new house and selling our very first home. It was a whirlwind, but not a decision we took lightly. Parts of me will miss the home we took down to the studs and rebuilt. I will miss the kitchen I designed and the fixtures I picked out myself. But the truth is not matter what we leave behind it is just stuff. Where my family is, that is my home.

It is with much excitement that I look at our new house with it’s crazy wallpaper and early castle kitchen and think about all the possibilities. I look at the in law suite in the making and am grateful my children will grow up with their grandparents as a major part of their lives. The playroom that will hold all the toys that we have accumulated somehow in less than 3 years and the basement where my husband will finally have his real man cave. I see the bedrooms where my children will sleep and grow up. The home office where I will work and put my flowers and pink things to balance the testosterone by which I am surrounded. The family room where we will gather for big family holidays has plenty of space for everyone even extended family. Perhaps the most fun is the pool where we will all swim on hot summer days and the large yard for the swing set. Even the front porch where we will sit and wave to our neighbors is alluring in its possibilities.

We have never been the type of family to aspire to obtain fancy things. We like to start with good bones and build around that. It is a family tradition to renovate homes and make them our own and build our lives behind the walls we have torn down and rebuilt. That metaphor we use for improvement of ourselves and our relationships. We have come very far you see and overcome adversity individually and together. We have been so lucky, but we have worked hard on ourselves and our awareness and we are grateful for everything.

We have a long list of renovations for this new home. Here is the rundown. First and foremost removal of the crazy wallpaper. You will see from the pictures I am not lying when I say it is crazy. A friend who saw it said quite politely. “Well they certainly didn’t play it safe with that choice.” Then we will paint the walls some soothing colors. I love paint samples. I really enjoy the process of design that starts with the warmth of new paint. Next put in some new flooring in the family room and master bedroom and some new carpet on the stairs and in the upstairs hallway. Followed by reglazing the tub and shower in the main bathroom and getting a new vanity and toilet. You will see why this is a necessity as well when we reveal the mock wood 1970’s style vanity currently present.

Our fingers are crossed that we will only need a new roof and the furnace and air conditioner will hold on for many more years to come. Outside we need to extend the fence near the pool and fence in the yard and get a shed for the new and necessary ride on lawn mower. I am looking forward to leaving the boys in the house and learning to cut the lawn. An escape that will be all my own in the fresh air in our new yard.

The most important thing to my husband aside from the man cave is perhaps the basketball hoop we will install in the driveway for endless hours of fun for him and the boys. I may even get in on that action now and then. After all there was a time before I was a mom that I was quite the athlete.

Of course there are some other things we would like to do, but many can and will have to wait and that is ok because no matter what the house looks like it will be filled with love. As this new chapter begins and we welcome Emerson into our lives and we move our family into our new home, I am reminded that this journey is truly amazing and I must welcome all that comes with open arms. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world even if I do have some crazy wallpaper to remove here and there.

Warriors of Birth

In many ways this pregnancy has been different than my first and in others exactly the same. The exhaustion that arrived in the first few moments after conception and lingers throughout is consistent, but the blinding pain that hit me like lightning in my hips and thighs plagued me through the second trimester was a new experience. As are the migraines with aura that decided to make a surprise appearance around the 33 rd week.

Another constant is my love of the kicks and rolls of pregnancy. Both Brenton and Emerson do not disappoint in their abilities as movers and shakers. I was pleasantly surprised when a series of rhythmic kicks turned out to be hiccups a few weeks back. I had forgotten what it felt like and the feeling made me smile. There is absolutely nothing like carrying a new life inside you. Nothing compares even given the discomfort at times.

For me pregnancy is relatively easy and birth is hard. I am not sure if many share my sentiments given that birth for me the first time was a scheduled c section. You see it was very clearly stated to me that I would have a c section. Midwives told me this in simple terms. I would not go into labor because Brenton would be over 10 pounds and if I tried to deliver him he would get stuck and most likely have permanent injury and in the worst case scenario he could die. They showed me charts and graphs and spoke about percentages. It was incredibly frightening and even though my mother was sitting right next to me when the news was presented I have never felt more isolated and alone in my entire life.

I was resistant. I was planning a natural unmedicated birth. I knew I could do it and I was as prepared as I could have been intellectually and it was just up to nature as far as I was concerned how it would unfold, so to be told it would not happen. Well, this was devastating. I was terrified that having this surgery would put my ability to bond with my son in jeopardy. I was afraid I would be unable to mother him at all in those crucial first days.

Looking up statistics I still thought I would do it naturally despite the warnings and then after a conversation with the midwife I trusted the most, I scheduled the procedure. It was incredibly sterile in many ways. You drive to the hospital, check in and get prepped for surgery. I never had one contraction. My cervix did not dilate. There was no emergency. It was simply safer this way for my son. I was told this by so many and still I did not believe it. It just did not feel right.

To this day I am haunted by my decision and by my feelings about this surgical birth. I did not see him emerge from my body. I did not see him right away at all. I only have pictures of my sons first moments of life. I heard him cry a big bubbly cry that made my heart explode and tears and emotion spout from my body. I wanted him with me and that is simply not how it is done. The midwife held my hand and told me about him. He was big she said looked like maybe close to 11 pounds and he had lots of hair. They were cleaning him up and my husband went to him bonding with him and touching his feet. Nurses taking pictures as tears streamed from my eyes joyous and anxiously waiting for my first glimpse.

They brought him to me with sterile gloved hands and remembering something my birth instructor mentioned I gave him a big wet kiss. I touched his cheek and he was beautiful. A few more pictures quickly and he was gone and my husband as well. The shaking began soon after and I was draped in warm blankets. Occasionally I wonder if the shaking really is from the chill of the room and the surgery or if it was my body physically reacting to the need to be with my child and shaking to try and rouse me to go to him.

After I was stitched up and brought to recovery, I wiggled my toes. At that moment I remember clearly thinking that it was time for me to get up and go to him. I even grabbed the rails of the hospital bed and lifted myself slightly. Of course it would have been an exercise in futility, but waiting there with strangers trying to make small talk was absolute and total torture. Almost two and a half years later I remember it so clearly that deep understanding that it was all wrong.

The relief that came when Brenton was given to me to hold in my arms is indescribable. It may be the reason I didn’t put him down for what seemed like weeks and why we nursed for so long. My favorite place for him to be was in the sling next to my skin. Even now my favorite time together is rocking him to sleep as he clings to me.

As animals we are meant to be with our newborns. We are meant to hold them close to us. When that is missing it causes trauma to the newborn and the mother. I realize the intensity with which this trauma haunts me as I approach the birth of my son Emerson.

At 30 weeks he was in the normal range for weight and at 34 weeks is now officially a big baby just as his older brother was and I felt the dreams of a VBAC slipping away as the midwife told me to be prepared for the conversation. I simply cannot imagine going through this again the trauma of separation. It gives me a pit in my stomach and a lump in my throat.

Now I am searching frantically for a doula. I need backup. I have been doing research and reading books. I know my rights as a patient and I know ACOG guidelines around macrosomia and VBAC. I also know that no matter what I want there will be certain aspects of all of this outside of my control. I also know I am afraid and emotional and that I need to do my best to make some sort of peace with myself over the possibilities in front of me.

If it comes to another surgical birth, I want the drape lowered to see my child emerge from my body. My child should be placed on my chest. We need that time together while they stitch me up and there is no real reason to have it any other way. I believe it is what is best for us both and the doctors do too. That is the difficult thing to accept. Doctors are aware of all the benefits of initial skin to skin and in the past 50 years there have been huge advances in birth, but no real advances in c section protocol. In other countries it is becoming common practice to place the baby on the chest. When I heard this I knew instantly that would change everything.

At the 34 week appointment I asked the midwife after the big baby speech if she has seen this new gentle c section procedure with the practice. She said simply no. I said without thinking well if you are there and I have a c section I might be the first patient to demand it. She balked and told me she doesn’t think the hospital will allow it. I smiled.

What most people don’t realize is that it does not really matter what the hospital allows in many cases. Patients rights are real. We can demand what we want and if the request is reasonable it should be granted. I feel a responsibility to my child and to myself and to all other women who want this as an option to do whatever I can to make it happen. Because just like there is no reason because I might have a big baby that I can’t try for a VBAC under ACOG guidelines, there is no reason if the VBAC is not successful and becomes another c section that I cannot have a different experience than the first time. This makes having a doula paramount to my success. There are so many women who are out there to help other women have the experience they want to have and are there for support if it doesn’t happen. I call them warriors of birth. They are my sisters in the struggle to reach a balance that has been slipping away.

Based on my past experience I have become a sort of warrior of birth in many ways, gaining knowledge and strength from the stories of other women along the way and spreading the word. I do not have to settle. None of us do. My emotions make me strong. Knowledge empowers. All birth stories should be respected and all women supported in their choices no matter what they may be from the woman who has a HBA2C in the woods in Lancaster PA to the woman who schedules a repeat c section at 39 weeks and everyone in between. Regardless of the final outcome in my case with Emerson’s birth, I will do all I can to fight for what I believe is the best for my baby!