I don’t know nuthin bout birthin no babies!

This is not the pregnancy/birth experience that I wanted. Neither was my first. I know I’m not alone in this and I’m not the only woman to feel betrayed by her own body, to be steamrolled into medical interventions that she doesn’t want, to be run through a system that doesn’t necessarily have her best interest at heart.

(Let me begin with a caveat: I adore my OB. I don’t agree with everything he says, but I trust him. I trust that he truly cares about my health and the health of my child and will do what he believe is right in any given situation. If I didn’t feel this way, I wouldn’t be his patient. However, he is still a member of the medical profession and is looking out for himself and his practice.)

I make no secret about the fact that my first delivery was a living hell. My epidural took more than an hour to be inserted and then it only worked on the right side of my body. I felt my c-section on the left side and the nurse anesthetist didn’t believe me. I didn’t get any relief from the pain until my daughter was delivered and I was being put back together. I spent five days in the hospital where I packed on 20lbs of fluid. My feet were so swollen that I literally could not get socks on them. Once I was home, my incision ruptured and I found myself lying in bed in a pool of blood and fluid. I spent WEEKS with a washcloth folded in my pants to absorb the constant leaking fluid from my incision. It was painful and humiliating and scaring. I had nightmares for months after my daughter’s delivery. I honestly believe that it greatly contributed to my postpartum depression and affected my ability to bond with my daughter.

We all know the goal of pregnancy is to end up with a healthy baby at the end and we’re told that it doesn’t really matter how you get there. I believe that it does matter. I believe that women have been told for so long that they don’t know how to give birth that we actually believe it. Medical interventions have become the norm, rather than the exception. I’m grateful to be the recipient of modern medical care and to have not lost my unborn child to extremely premature labor. However, I know this leaves me wide open for further medical interventions that I don’t want or even believe that I need.

What I want is to not give birth lying flat on my back on the most counter-intuitive position imaginable. I don’t want to be hooked up to all kinds of machines and IVs so that I can’t get out of bed and move. I don’t want to be forced into pitocin and then an epidural because the pit contractions are too painful to bear and then a c-section because well, hell, I’ve already got the epidural so we might as well. I don’t want to be treated as though the birth of my son is a medical event that requires treatment. I’m not sick. I’m giving birth. There is a HUGE difference.

But I’m having a VBAC so I know most, if not all, of these things are inevitable. I had to sign consent forms to attempt a VBAC and they were so skewed toward pushing me into a repeat c-section. All this garbage about uterine rupture and the fact that I’ll probably end up needing a section anyway and the recovery from attempted labor and then a section is worse than if I just had the section in the first place. It wasn’t really a consent form so much as a tool being used to frighten me into an unnecessary medical treatment.

When this baby is ready to come into the world (at an appropriate time, mind you!) I plan to have as little intervention as I can get away with. There will be absolutely no pitocin. If I choose to have an epidural it will be because I want one and not because I’m being coerced into it. I will try my hardest to not be supine when I’m ready to give birth. I will only have a c-section if it is clearly a life and death situation for me or my son. I will be my own advocate and I won’t be steamrolled into anything that isn’t absolutely necessary.

Damn and Double Damn

So, I ended up in Labor and Delivery on Friday night with one determined little boy. There were contractions and dilation and shots and monitoring. It was very exciting.

I was admitted but I got to come home on Sunday. However, I’m now on Strict Ass MoFo Bed Rest (note: not an actual medical term). I’m allowed to go to the bathroom, spend an hour once or twice a week outside my house and that’s about it. And the best part? Since my FedEx delivery on Friday we can’t afford to pay for daycare for the girl. I’m incapable of caring for my daughter and incapable of paying for someone else to do so. Parenting FAIL of epic proportions. Our saving grace came in the form of Gerald’s mom and Aunt. They were still in town and volunteered to take Maddie back to southern Texas with them for the next two weeks. It’s a burden for them, but they’re willing to do whatever they can to help us. How lucky are we to have family like that?

Of course, I’m wrestling with a metric ass-load of guilt over this. I can’t gestate my unborn son properly, I can’t care for the child I already have, I can’t work, I can’t keep my house, etc. I feel like one big, giant fail. I miss my girl and feel so bad that I had to ship her off so that I can lay on my effing left side 95% of the day. Will she think I wanted to get rid of her in favor of the baby? Will she even care at all? I can’t decide which is worse. GAH!

Anyhow, I figure I’ll give myself a few days of pity partydom and then suck it up and do what I gots tah do. Which is, you know, nothing.

Fun Fact Friday

* I got fired today via a FedEx delivery. I’m not terribly surprised at the termination, just the way it was handled. I gave my company my doctor’s note saying that I was on bed rest, but that could work from home. They said I could do that or use my short-term disability. I chose to work from home now and use the disability for maternity leave after the baby was born. It took them a week to come up with a request for ANOTHER note from my doctor giving the dates of bed rest and more specific details on working from home. I had some trouble getting my doctor’s office to fax the note to HR, so I picked it up myself this week at my appointment. I had been in telephone contact with my HR assistant and my boss, so I thought everything was ok. I called HR today to let them know I had the second note for them and would drop it off today. She said that was great and we hung up. Literally, a minute later, my doorbell rang and it was FedEx with a termination letter. Apparently, my absenteeism is grounds for termination since I’m not covered under FMLA. However, I will be given “preferred” consideration for employment when I’m able to work full-time again. I understand that the timing for all of this was shitty and that the company had to do what they had to do, but why offer me the choice of working from home or using disability when they just intended to fire me?

* Last night, I watched some labor, birth and breastfeeding videos online. Afterward, I went to put on my jammies and discovered that watching the breastfeeding video spurred my boobies into action. I’m hoping this means I won’t have trouble breastfeeding The Boy.

* Gerald got a speeding ticket on the way to work today.

* I’m totally wearing white shoes today and it’s not Easter yet.

* I got this t-shirt from Threadless this week. It adds a special je ne sais quoi when a pregnant woman wears it. I’m nothing if not Klassy.

30

My in-laws have left the building, my husband is out running errands and my daughter is (STILL!) napping. This seems like the perfect time to post.

First of all, I had my 30 week OB appointment yesterday, complete with sonogram. I was able to take my MIL and Aunt-in-law with me so that they could see The Boy. They were blown away by the casualness seeing as they didn’t get sonograms when they were pregnant. The Boy cooperated and put on quite a show for the ladies. He’s already 3 lbs 10 oz, which is in the 77th percentile. He’s gonna be a Big Boy, it seems. This thrills me because I’ve only gained 10 lbs so far and my OB was worried about the baby getting enough to grow. Doesn’t appear to be a problem!

Everything else is looking good. I’m back up to three doses of anti-contraction meds a day and was admonished to do more actual “resting” than I had been. My cervix is still closed and I only have to make it two more weeks before my OB says it would be safe to deliver. I joked that he’s going to end up having to induce me at 42 weeks.

Maddie’s really starting to get excited about the baby. Yesterday, we were at Target with Nana and Maddie ran up to the baby boy clothes and shouted, “OH! Look at this for my baby brother!” and proceeded to try and get me to buy a size 2T shirt for him. Instead, I took her over to the clearance rack and let her pick out an outfit for him. Later in the evening, she was laying on me and felt the baby kick. She decided that she wanted to sing him the ABCs, so she put her head down by my belly and sang for him. Of course, my eyes welled up and I saw the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Once he gets here, all bets are off and I’m guessing it’ll be three days, at most, before she’s trying to get rid of him.

Since we’re in the final countdown to The Boy’s arrival, I’m going to be posting soon about my birth “plan” (as if I actually have one) and breastfeeding. Please stay tuned because I desperately need your advice, commiseration, sympathy and level-headedness.

Avoidence

My MIL will be here tomorrow to stay with us for a while. So, naturally, instead of cleaning like I ought to be, I’m avoiding it by posting. To be fair, I’ve already done a load of laundry, cleaned my bathroom and the end tables in the living room. But, um… there’s more to do. (UNDERSTATEMENT)

I got a couple of outfits from Old Navy for The Boy last night. I got this:

And this, because they’re Gerald’s favorite band:

And this, because they’re one of my favorites:

I also got him a one-piece like the top one, but it’s shorts. It’s brown with white fishies all over it. For some reason, it’s not on the site, though.

And I got Maddie’s Easter outfit:

I also got an adorable navy blue cardigan with ruffles down the placket, but I can’t find it on the site. Whatev, Old Navy.

Passionista

Hypothetically speaking, electrical storms are going to wipe out the Internet (perhaps forever). You have one day left to write about your passions: what do you want to say to the blogosphere in 300 words or less?

When I became a wife I didn’t stop being Erica and become Gerald’s Wife. I became Erica, Gerald’s Wife. While I’m an equal partner in my relationship, I am still my own person. I have friends outside of my marriage. I travel without my husband. This doesn’t take anything away from my marriage. As a matter of fact, it enhances it in that I’m not relying on my husband to be my sole source of comfort, entertainment and friendship.

However, becoming a mother was a whole different ballgame. I went from Erica, Gerald’s wife straight to Maddie’s Mom. I found it so easy to fall into that role and willingly give up autonomy. While a certain amount of loss of “freedom” is required when one has children, one doesn’t need to lose one’s sense of self.

I’m not saying it’s easy to do, because it’s not. But I’m worth the effort. I’m worth having a fulfilling career. I’m worth sacrificing things in order to stay home with my child. I’m worth pedicures. I’m worth a movie or shopping with a friend. I’m worth a trip to New York to spend a weekend talking about my blog. We are worth so much more than we allow ourselves to have. We’re worth it all WITHOUT GUILT.

I wholeheartedly believe that taking time for ourselves in whatever endeavor we choose is critically important in maintaining sanity. We’re better wives and mothers when we don’t feel smothered by those roles. Do something for yourself regularly. I’m not talking getting your hair cut twice a year. Or not sharing your Ben and Jerry’s with your kids. I’m talking something that’s just for you that makes you feel alive. Start running. Start dancing. Start writing. Start taking classes. Start traveling. Start working. Start something BIG.

Reaching the Maximum Out of Pocket

I took the Madster to a pediatric ENT yesterday on the recommendation of her pediatrician. My poor girl has had more ear infections and bouts of strep throat than any other child I know. She spends two weeks on antibiotics, gets well, and within a month is sick again. At first we attributed it to the evil daycare germs, but then began to wonder if she wasn’t reinfecting herself. Turns out, it’s been her all along.

The ENT said that it’s fairly obvious to him that Maddie’s reinfecting herself and it’s not coming from outside sources. Her tonsils looked ok yesterday, but the lymph nodes that they drain into are distended from being filled so often. She’s got fluid built up behind one eardrum and the other is protracted. The ENT believes she’ll benefit greatly from having a tonsillectomy, adenoidectomy and ear tubes placed. This doesn’t come as a total surprise, but still.

It’s a day surgery, so that’s nice. And she’ll need about a week to recover. We’re going to go ahead and have it done right away so that she can have undivided attention during recovery instead of dealing with a new baby at the same time.

I saw my OB this afternoon for a follow-up. Things are going well. He reduced the amount of procardia that I’m taking and relaxed some of my restrictions. So, YAY! for that. I go back in two weeks for a full blood work-up and sonogram. I’m still taking it easy because as much as I’d like to explode in a flurry of activity, I sure as hell don’t want to end up in the hospital for the next six weeks, you know? Although, it was pretty damn nice being waited on hand and foot and not having a kid running around like some kind of deranged hellbeast. OH! OW! Contractions! I’d better get to the hospital right away! (Think Gerald will fall for it?)

Full Circle – Or some other ironic title like that.

Well, it seems that life is, indeed, cyclical here at Chez Dressed Up. Apparently, I only grow the over-achieving babies who don’t feel like they need a full 37 weeks of gestation. Thank goodness this is our last kid.

Here’s where things stand presently: I’m at risk for pre-term labor. I’m home on bed rest until 34 weeks. Luckily, it’s the “light” kind of bed rest in that I can still do things around the house and sit in my recliner instead of lying in bed on my left side all damn day. I’m taking a medication called procardia to ward off contractions. It works unless I’m too active, but it’s got some shitty side effects like racing heart, dizziness, headache, and shakiness. Plus, I already have pretty low blood pressure to begin with so this stuff lowers it even more and makes me feel like ass.

Those of you following along at home will remember that I started a new job a little over two months ago. Queen of Horrible Timing? Yeah, that’s me. Anyhow, the good news is that my job is totally work-from-home-able and management would much rather me work from home then do my work themselves for the next however long. I’m going into the office tomorrow to meet with them and go over the details. And if for some reason that all goes to hell in a hand basket, then I’ve got short-term disability that will cover me. The fact that I’ll still be getting paid means that Maddie can continue to go to daycare during the day. We’ve reduced her hours to 5 hours a day, 5 days a week and I feel like it’s a win-win. She gets to sleep in since we don’t have to be there until 9am, she still gets the benefit of playing with other kids and learning new things, and I can rest/work without feeling guilty for ignoring her.

Most importantly, The Boy is doing very well. At my last sonogram on Wednesday, he weighed 2lbs, 8 oz and was in the 69th percentile for size. This is a relief since I’ve lost another pound, putting me at gaining just 7 pounds for this entire pregnancy. All of his parts are accounted for and seem to be functioning within nominal parameters. He’s extraordinarily active which is a blessing and a curse. I’m guessing he’s going to end up being a total spaz like his big sister but it’s reassuring to feel him kick the shit out of me and know he’s still in there and doing all right.

The big downside to the whole bed rest debacle is that I’m crazy nesting and can’t really do anything about it. I’m trying to limit myself to one chore per day so that I feel like things are still being done and my house is still clean without overdoing it. I’m DYING to put together the nursery and start buying things, but that has to wait. The Boy’s room is currently our guestroom and last remaining bedroom. (Note to self: Go back in time and choose to build the bigger house. You’ll thank me for it.) Gerald’s mom will be here next week for a follow-up on her heart valve replacement, so we need a guestroom for her. Then, we can at least set up most of the baby’s furniture. Gerald’s mom will be coming back again when The Boy is born and staying for a few weeks, so she’ll need a place to sleep. We’ll leave her bed in there and then move it out when she goes home. We’re most likely going to move it into Maddie’s room and move her out of her toddler bed. (The guest bed is a twin trundle, so if we have guests we can expand it and boot Maddie out to sleep with us or whatev.) All in all, we’ll be in pretty good shape. I’m just so anxious to GET GOING, ALREADY!

GAH! This post is rambley and all over the damn place, isn’t it? I go for months not posting anything worthwhile and then BAM! Overload! Well, you’d better get used to it, my pretties. I have a feeling I’m going to finally have the time to blog again on the reg. Now might be the time to manage your Reader subscriptions, if you catch my drift.