Hello again. I know I'm long overdue for a post, and I have one half written, but since it's taking so long to complete, I thought it better if I at least post this for now...
Thea Weeks 1 & 2 ...
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Saturday, May 9, 2009
For Mother's Day - Thea’s Birth Story
For those of you who wanted to know, I thought I'd post Thea's birth story today (though it's taken me since Wed to write it in one-handed hunt-and-peck, usually as Thea nursed).
My contractions were still irregular and not intense enough to indicate I was ready to go into the birth center (though I was still feeling them all in my back), so Brent and I decided to go to our scheduled 10:20 am prenatal apt at the medical clinic. We went for a walk (I stopped to lean on B during contractions) which unsurprisingly took us longer than expected so Mom came with us and parked while we ran in. Standing in line at the clinic’s registration desk I felt a gush of liquid rush down my leg (memories of grade 2 flashed back!). Oh no. I got into the office and ran to give my urine sample so I was well positioned when the big burst came! Unfortunately the excitement of knowing this was definitely Birth Day was soon erased when I noticed the undeniable meconium (baby’s first stool) in the amniotic fluid. In that instant we saw our dream of a Birth Center birth disappear. Our midwife delivered the bad news – while the meconium was likely just a result of the baby being post-due, it could mean she was in distress now, and they were worried she could have aspirated some in utero which would mean serious problems after birth. I was devastated. We weren’t allowed to go home; I had to be admitted to Labor & Delivery immediately. We called Dad and Lindsay to bring our hospital bag and the dozen things we had yet to pack to meet us at the hospital.
But then everything changed at once. 15 min after they finally got the epidural in they checked me and I was 9.5 cm. A big, bright room with huge widows became available that they moved me into. And then the midwife Brent and I had been choosing to see for the last two months came to visit us. She had been working at the clinic all day (that is who we had the earlier apt with) and was off work at 5pm. I thought she was just coming in to check on us when suddenly she returned in her scrubs! She continued to stay for the next 4.5 hours to deliver Thea and get me well and ready to go to recovery – all on her own time! It was like a different birth. My epidural was low enough that it started wearing off and I could feel the contractions in my left side. I didn’t mind the discomfort at all as then I could tell when to push. The pushing stage was slow and powerful and I had the energy and stamina to push her out and be completely present for her birth. I won’t give you all the “gory details”, but as a participant they weren’t gory, rather another example of the amazing capacities of the human body. Thea was born at 8:24 pm, wide awake and bright eyed, and gave a good strong cry when she came out, which allowed her to be handed to me instead of the waiting team of pediatricians (due to the fear of meconium in her lungs). Within 15 min she was nursing happily and then being passed around among all her waiting admirers.
For those who have not given birth, I can’t begin to describe the overwhelming surge of emotion that comes in those first moments - you can hear about over and over, but really there aren’t words to fully describe its intensity. Mom, Dad, Lindsay and of course Brent were all absolutely amazing. And while thoughts of having an only-child surfaced in the sore and most sleep-deprived moments, I think it's fairly safe to say how excited I'll be to do this all over again (and no, I'm not an epidural convert, even though I was very grateful for it at the time, we'll hope again for a completely natural birth next time!).
The days since then have been a wonderful, exhausting, overwhelming, awed blur. It is crazy how seemingly simple tasks get lost in the repetitive routine of making sure Thea eats, burps, relieves herself, is changed and sleeps. The latter seems to be one of her higher priorities and seems to have an inverse relationship to Brent and my ability to do so (especially since she only seems to be content to sleep at night when she’s touching one of us). But, we are so sickeningly besotted by her, that even at 4 am I have found an untouched store of patience I never knew I was capable of! The rest of the time we all just sit around making googly eyes at her and exclaim at the beauty of her smallest movement or expression. :-)
For those not on facebook, we will try to keep a steady stream of photos of her first weeks on our Flickr account: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenandbrent/ (there is also a link under "Good Sites" on the right of this page).
Well there's always more to write, but it's 9 pm and I'm exhausted! It was a wonderful Mother's Day, maybe I'll write about it the next time I get time... sometime before Halloween I hope!
Well, as our prenatal class instructor said, you never know what the birth fairy has in store for you!
After a few weeks of being convinced that my body had no idea that it even needed to go into labor, let alone how, I woke up at around 2 am on Tuesday morning with stabbing lower back pain. I assumed that the spicy Somali chicken dish Brent’s coworker had sent home with him (intended to get labor going) had given me some gas. And even though I was over a week overdue, it still took me an hour to accept that this probably wasn’t gas! I decided it was best to try to let Lindsay and Brent sleep (Mom and Dad were already moved over into their new apartment), even though I expected I was in it for the long haul (sleeping between contractions only worked when they spread out, which amounted to 5 min stints of shut-eye for only an hour). Brent finally found me slouched over the couch on my birthing ball in the living room around 5 am; Lindsay woke up at 8, both very excited when they heard the news.
My contractions were still irregular and not intense enough to indicate I was ready to go into the birth center (though I was still feeling them all in my back), so Brent and I decided to go to our scheduled 10:20 am prenatal apt at the medical clinic. We went for a walk (I stopped to lean on B during contractions) which unsurprisingly took us longer than expected so Mom came with us and parked while we ran in. Standing in line at the clinic’s registration desk I felt a gush of liquid rush down my leg (memories of grade 2 flashed back!). Oh no. I got into the office and ran to give my urine sample so I was well positioned when the big burst came! Unfortunately the excitement of knowing this was definitely Birth Day was soon erased when I noticed the undeniable meconium (baby’s first stool) in the amniotic fluid. In that instant we saw our dream of a Birth Center birth disappear. Our midwife delivered the bad news – while the meconium was likely just a result of the baby being post-due, it could mean she was in distress now, and they were worried she could have aspirated some in utero which would mean serious problems after birth. I was devastated. We weren’t allowed to go home; I had to be admitted to Labor & Delivery immediately. We called Dad and Lindsay to bring our hospital bag and the dozen things we had yet to pack to meet us at the hospital. Unfortunately, from there things went from bad to worse. Cinco de Mayo turned out to be a 
"baby storm" day, so L & D was full. We were stuck in a tiny closet delivery room with no windows and barely enough room to fit us inside ( a room we had actually seen during our first hospital tour and I had announced "If that's where we'll be delivering I don't want to go to this hospital!"). By the time I was admitted my contractions were much stronger and closer together and still all in my back. I had always feared having back labor and I was told one by one that the coping techniques I was counting on were unavailable –no birth tub, no shower, no doula; I had limited mobility due to all the machines to which I was now attached, and it took them so long to track down a birth ball for me to use that when they finally did I could no longer move to use it (the room was too cramped anyway). Dad, Linds and Mom were all ordered to pummel my back as hard as they could to give me counter pressure during the contractions. They had to keep rubbing constantly though as even between contractions the pain did not disappear like it “should” do with normal labor. A further complication was that apparently I wasn’t getting enough oxygen (a doctor later stipulated this was a problem with the machine, not me) so every contraction machines would start beeping uncontrollably and I would be yelled at to breathe deeper/faster/more! I felt like I was getting plenty of oxygen, but the beeping and panic was destroying my concentration and breathing patterns to deal with the pain. My contractions became so strong and rapid that the midwife told me I was in transition (the last and most intense part of labor, right before pushing). Even though I was vomiting and unable to focus on Brent’s face anymore, I thought I could keep it up for another hour or two to have the natural birth we so badly wanted. But after two hours the midwife came back to check again and I was told I was only at 6 cm (transition is 8-10cm)! A door slammed shut in my mind and I told Brent to get the anesthesiologist. He tried to talk me out of it (like I’d asked him to) but I’d already thought it through. It was hugely disappointing to me to not have a completely natural birth, but with what we’d been dealt for this birth I felt I was at risk of passing out and having a forceps, vacuum or C-section delivery if I couldn’t get my strength back to push her out. Ironically, the nurses had such a hard time getting an IV in that relief didn’t come for another hour!
"baby storm" day, so L & D was full. We were stuck in a tiny closet delivery room with no windows and barely enough room to fit us inside ( a room we had actually seen during our first hospital tour and I had announced "If that's where we'll be delivering I don't want to go to this hospital!"). By the time I was admitted my contractions were much stronger and closer together and still all in my back. I had always feared having back labor and I was told one by one that the coping techniques I was counting on were unavailable –no birth tub, no shower, no doula; I had limited mobility due to all the machines to which I was now attached, and it took them so long to track down a birth ball for me to use that when they finally did I could no longer move to use it (the room was too cramped anyway). Dad, Linds and Mom were all ordered to pummel my back as hard as they could to give me counter pressure during the contractions. They had to keep rubbing constantly though as even between contractions the pain did not disappear like it “should” do with normal labor. A further complication was that apparently I wasn’t getting enough oxygen (a doctor later stipulated this was a problem with the machine, not me) so every contraction machines would start beeping uncontrollably and I would be yelled at to breathe deeper/faster/more! I felt like I was getting plenty of oxygen, but the beeping and panic was destroying my concentration and breathing patterns to deal with the pain. My contractions became so strong and rapid that the midwife told me I was in transition (the last and most intense part of labor, right before pushing). Even though I was vomiting and unable to focus on Brent’s face anymore, I thought I could keep it up for another hour or two to have the natural birth we so badly wanted. But after two hours the midwife came back to check again and I was told I was only at 6 cm (transition is 8-10cm)! A door slammed shut in my mind and I told Brent to get the anesthesiologist. He tried to talk me out of it (like I’d asked him to) but I’d already thought it through. It was hugely disappointing to me to not have a completely natural birth, but with what we’d been dealt for this birth I felt I was at risk of passing out and having a forceps, vacuum or C-section delivery if I couldn’t get my strength back to push her out. Ironically, the nurses had such a hard time getting an IV in that relief didn’t come for another hour! 
But then everything changed at once. 15 min after they finally got the epidural in they checked me and I was 9.5 cm. A big, bright room with huge widows became available that they moved me into. And then the midwife Brent and I had been choosing to see for the last two months came to visit us. She had been working at the clinic all day (that is who we had the earlier apt with) and was off work at 5pm. I thought she was just coming in to check on us when suddenly she returned in her scrubs! She continued to stay for the next 4.5 hours to deliver Thea and get me well and ready to go to recovery – all on her own time! It was like a different birth. My epidural was low enough that it started wearing off and I could feel the contractions in my left side. I didn’t mind the discomfort at all as then I could tell when to push. The pushing stage was slow and powerful and I had the energy and stamina to push her out and be completely present for her birth. I won’t give you all the “gory details”, but as a participant they weren’t gory, rather another example of the amazing capacities of the human body. Thea was born at 8:24 pm, wide awake and bright eyed, and gave a good strong cry when she came out, which allowed her to be handed to me instead of the waiting team of pediatricians (due to the fear of meconium in her lungs). Within 15 min she was nursing happily and then being passed around among all her waiting admirers.
For those who have not given birth, I can’t begin to describe the overwhelming surge of emotion that comes in those first moments - you can hear about over and over, but really there aren’t words to fully describe its intensity. Mom, Dad, Lindsay and of course Brent were all absolutely amazing. And while thoughts of having an only-child surfaced in the sore and most sleep-deprived moments, I think it's fairly safe to say how excited I'll be to do this all over again (and no, I'm not an epidural convert, even though I was very grateful for it at the time, we'll hope again for a completely natural birth next time!).
The days since then have been a wonderful, exhausting, overwhelming, awed blur. It is crazy how seemingly simple tasks get lost in the repetitive routine of making sure Thea eats, burps, relieves herself, is changed and sleeps. The latter seems to be one of her higher priorities and seems to have an inverse relationship to Brent and my ability to do so (especially since she only seems to be content to sleep at night when she’s touching one of us). But, we are so sickeningly besotted by her, that even at 4 am I have found an untouched store of patience I never knew I was capable of! The rest of the time we all just sit around making googly eyes at her and exclaim at the beauty of her smallest movement or expression. :-)
For those not on facebook, we will try to keep a steady stream of photos of her first weeks on our Flickr account: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jenandbrent/ (there is also a link under "Good Sites" on the right of this page).
Well there's always more to write, but it's 9 pm and I'm exhausted! It was a wonderful Mother's Day, maybe I'll write about it the next time I get time... sometime before Halloween I hope!
Love to all,
J, B & little T
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Thea Elaina
Yes, she's finally here!
We just got home from the hospital and are awaiting the arrival of her second set of grandparents, so for now, just the basics:
For the big decision, we finally decided to name her Thea (pronounced "ThAY-a") Elaina (like Elena) Smerdon Freeman. The names have family significance - after Jen's Grandma Dorthy and Brent's Grandma Elaine; as well as for their meanings and how they sound.
As for meaning, the baby name book we had said:
Thea - Greek, "goddess, godly" diminutive of Althea and Dorothea. Pronounced THEE-a, THAY-a, or TAY-a, this name of the Greek goddess of light and the mother of the sun, moon and dawn presents an appealing artistic image, sensitive and serene.
Elaina - French variation of Helen, from Greek, "bright shining one." A name that has connoted beauty since ancient times.
And the other standard details:
She was born at 8:24 pm on May 5th weighing 6 lbs 13 oz. and was 19.6 inches long. I'll let you know more details about her birth soon. It didn't go quite as planned, but in the end we were very happy with how she made her entrance, healthy happy and beautiful, into the outside world.
More photos coming soon too!
Lots of love to you all from Brent, Jen and Thea
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