http://blogginaboutbabies.wordpress.com/2009/04/20/milk-supply-during-menstruation/

Morning has been good so far, even miraculous at points. She stayed tolerant, and absolute angel, when I took her to our room, placed her on our bed propped up by a Boppy within sight of the restroom, so that I could get thru my morning routine of brushing teeth/washing face/changing.

And then half an hour ago, I noticed her getting slightly cranky, then drowsy. I remembered reading about how babies nap by biorhythm, so the perfect naptimes are 9a and 2p. It was exactly 9a, so I put her, drowsy, in her swing. I hummed to her a bit, employed a pacifier for less than a minute, she resisted a little but after 5-10 mins the sleep took over. She’s napping AT HOME WITHOUT BEING HELD! YES!!!

It may only last 45 mins instead of 2-3 hours, but it’s a start.

Last nite, Mr. W tried to push Allie’s bedtime back an hour to 10p. A couple of nites ago, we were exhausted and tried to move it up an hour and were immediately punished by her fussing until 2 hours past her normal bedtime. Last nite, Mr. W read aloud the first couple chapters of “Babywise” as Allie slept in his arms. It was an enjoyable family evening, altho we gave up on the reading before we got to anything substantial (like instructions on HOW to get her to sleep thru the nite) cuz it was getting late. Instead of feeding her at 8:45p aiming for a 9ish bedtime, I fed at 9:45p. As she had come out from a solid nap in his arms at this point, this feeding didn’t make her drowsy enough to go to sleep. She fussed and cried in her crib within minutes of being put down, and I had no idea how to comfort her because I’d done everything already — changed diaper, fed, put her to sleep. After some time, when I was losing it at past 11p in bed, Mr. W got up and tried the pacifier thing twice. She spit it out and kept crying. It wasn’t ignorable so I got up and decided to sleep in her room. I picked her up and comforted her to calm her down, then put her back in her crib (awake) and kept popping the pacifier back in her mouth after it’s fallen out when she got drowsy. That was cousin Jennifer’s sleeping training advice. A bit past midnight, the duration between fussings elongated, I removed the fallen pacifier and she stayed asleep. I woke up with a start at 3:30a, realizing she hadn’t fed all night. Paranoid, I stayed half-awake for the next hour, hearing sounds from her that I was sure meant she was up to feed, but by the time I got up from the recliner and walked the 2 steps to her crib, she’d fallen asleep again. This continued until 4:40a when I finally fed her and put her back down. Now I just finished the pumping sequences of events, computer’s cams on her, paranoid some small sound’s gonna wake her (like someone flushing the toilet a street down). I’m probably going to try for some sleep instead of risking waking her by brushing my teeth and stuff so early, altho I’ll probably be too nervous to sleep.

Had some dark discharge the last 2 days with light pink-looking spotting. This morning, I realize with more discharge that I’d gotten my period for the first time since before pregnancy. As I’m breastfeeding exclusively and have been consistently for Allie’s past 7 weeks of life, I’m freaked out and emailed my OB. I’d just read yesterday that the return of the period means hormones have been triggered by decreasing milk supply/breastfeeding. I’m happy she slept “thru the nite” after so long, but every happiness seems blockaded at some point by a potential fear.

I’ve got plans to meet up with my mom, cousin Jen and her mom, and cousin Olivia and her 2 girls, plus cousin Diana’s 2 yr old little girl Elle (whom Diana/Jen’s mom’s babysitting today) for a lunch and a park day. I’m hopeful it’ll be a good day.

BTW, 2 nites this week (the nite we advanced Allie’s bedtime and last nite when we pushed it back), Allie was up late having fits. I found out that at the same time, same nites, Jen’s baby Alexandria and college roommie Diana’s baby Alexis were doing the same thing. Full moon? Well, it was on Monday nite the first time they lined up (that we’re aware of).

Oh yeah…yesterday afternoon I tried to get Allie to take her nap away from me (she sleeps 2-3 hours on me but 3-5 mins usually if I put her down) so that I could get some stuff done. I placed her in her cosleeper in the living room, turned on the vibration, tried music, tried singing, tried pacifier, she would NOT stop her fit of hysteria and go to sleep. When I finally gave up and picked her up, I noticed a little tear streak down one temple. She started making tears?! My heart broke. I cried. I’ve been a mess again since. Hormones or not, I think I have postpartum depression. I keep reminding myself that it’s okay if I don’t feel productive cuz I couldn’t finish the laundry or unload the dishwasher; things ARE better because she’s thriving and she’s beautiful and she smiles a lot and is generally in a good mood. She’s sitting with us tolerantly longer, and the past 2 nites Mr. W got out her highchair booster and she’s sat with us doing great as we had dinner at the table together (instead of gulping in shifts). But when one thing perceived as a difficulty or negativity happens, I immediately break.

had my 6-wk postnatal apptmt with my ob earlier. hubby took an extra day off today to watch allie, so i made him an overdue optometry apptmt today, where he is now. after my 30 lb preg weight gain (i think i maxed out at 156 lbs), i’m now close to back at my pre-preg weight (128 lbs now). i tried wearing my wedding/engagement rings yesterday and they fit. pelvic exam shows i’ve healed from labor. the stitches just have to dissolve on their own, my skin healed over them well.

as for mentally, my ob said i’m “normal for [my] personality.” he doesn’t think i have an actual psyche disorder, & wanting to hyperclean or hypercontrol housework because i can’t control the baby is common. because i’m meticulous, in-control, organized, systematic by nature, & because i’m an older new parent accustomed to doing things my way for a long time, & i’m educated & have expectations.

baby up & crying now. gotta go!

My nerves are still frayed. I think I’m getting psychosomatic symptoms to the anxiety. I was thinking the other day I seemed to have general anxiety disorder (GAD), but in a looong hour+ of holding her asleep in my arms in bed when I was afraid to move, so that Mr. W can catch up on his sleep, I figured out that the problem is that my world has shrunk so much since I’ve been off on maternity leave. In this microcosmic world, there’s just the baby, me, and Mr. W with the stepdaughter, my parents, and my friends on the periphery. So given that this world is so small, what’s the worst thing that could happen in it? The baby could cry and fuss and carry on. So my body has assigned that an 8 (out of 10) in anxiety response. I’m nauseated, scared, unable to fall asleep, have pressure on my chest, loss of appetite, and was emotional. Mr. W had said, “So what if she cries? Babies cry.” True, and my level of response is totally disproportionate to the stimulus. My blood pressure is probably through the roof; I can always feel my heart palpitating, it seems. Multiple times today, when I got up, I’d get lightheaded and would have to brace myself against the bed or wall until my vision returned to normal. And the fact that Mr. W is going back to work in 2 days? Half of my team is going to be gone. My body is reacting to that as if he’s going to be gone for 3 months instead of just 12 hours a day (he plans on getting to the gym by 5am, showering for work at 6:15a, napping during lunchtime, and he’ll probably get home between 4:30-5:30p, depending on the workload). I have my post-natal checkup tomorrow morning, anyway.

To cut down on her daytime crying (altho there have been some improvements), we tried the Seven Sling. I think their sizes run small, because once I finally figured out the stupid instructions and got set up, I couldn’t open the fabric up wide enough to shove her in there. Mr. W could do it by wearing the sling deliberately wrong, across his neck rather than across his shoulder, but that gives me back pain.

Every time I tried for 2 days, the 2nd day after watching tons of how-to videos online, we ended up with her screaming from being squished in my attempts to shove her in with her head stuck out, or a limb would get caught, and we always struggled to free her with her screaming again, being crushed. I finally gave it up. There are other ways to carry her in the Seven Sling, such as just having her butt in there and sitting her upright instead of having her cradled in there, but since she’s only 5 weeks old, they don’t recommend a carry that doesn’t have her head supported. I think she’s just too large of a baby for the infant cradle carry, altho I guess she’s able to keep her head up for lengthy amounts of time on her own, which she started being able to do super-early, like week 2-3 or something.

So yesterday I practiced with the Infantino Flip Carrier. All the straps looked intimidating, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought once I was able to put the carrier on by myself and set the straps to the right settings. This morning, while she was fussing, I put her in it and wore her around as I put the dishes from the dishwasher away, and ate some cereal. She went quiet and sleepy almost immediately after getting in. Right now I’m blogging with her sleeping in it.

I think we might have a winner. Mr. W feels it’s too bulky for home use and he might be right, but I’m desperate. I think we’re gonna go carrier-hunting today to find something fabric, easy, and effective. I looked up the Mobi carrier, but that was even more fussy with even more “pockets” to take into consideration than the sling. =P

WARNING: This is long AND graphic; if you’re one of those queasy-about-birthing-story people, don’t click “more.” Otherwise, welcome to my last Wednesday.

On the drive home after the 40-week appointment with the OB, I mentioned to Mr. W that Rebecca suggested (jokingly) that we need to have a heart-to-heart with Allison to tell her to come out. Mr. W patted a hand on my swollen belly, and said gamely, “Allie, this is your dad. You need to come out now.” He said some other stuff, too, but I forgot it because I didn’t take it very seriously. Mr. W’s two kids came to dinner with us at California Pizza Kitchen and complained mildly about how long Allie was taking, Mr. W ordered a too-spicy pizza which we shared along with a salad, Mr. W’s son came back to our house afterwards, we watched “Biggest Loser” on TV, then everyone went to bed until it was just me and Son left downstairs. I complained online about how long Allie was taking, Son left a little past midnight to hit the gym, I invited him back the following Tuesday for the next episode of “Biggest Loser,” he mentioned hopefully that we might have Allie by then, I made a sarcastic dubious comment, then I watched TV until I fell asleep in the living room. That’s a summary of the day.

At 3:15 a.m., I was woken up by a bad lower abdominal cramp. I’d felt that a couple of times before, always in the middle of the night, and knew it would be relieved with urination. But instead, I went back to sleep. 3:45 a.m., it happened again. Then at 4:05 a.m.. And then every 3-4 minutes, sometimes without one subsiding before being hit with the other one. I staggered upstairs, went to the restroom, and saw some thick bloody mucous in the toilet. Soon, another sign of labor: diarrhea. Twice. (Lesson learned: don’t eat crazy spicy stuff if you expect to go into labor at any time.) I remembered that my cousin Jennifer had told me that if I had questions, needed to vent, wanted to talk about anything at any hour of the night, to text her because she’s up every couple of hours to feed her 2-month-old anyway. I texted her. Sure enough, she was up. She asked me some questions and assessed the situation, and suggested we go to the hospital. I wanted ideally to wait until I knew my contractions were close enough together that I was dilated 5cm or more, so that I wouldn’t have to spend my entire labor in the hospital, or be turned away from the hospital for not being far enough along. The problem was that my contractions were so on top of each other, and always were, that I had no clue how dilated I was. After dealing with some crampy contractions with Mr. W rubbing my back, bringing me water, logging my contractions in an iPad app, guarding me to see what he could do for me, we left for the hospital at 8:30am-ish because I was just insecure about how dilated I am with contractions a few minutes apart.

In Labor & Delivery, a nurse strapped two monitors on my stomach, one to track my contractions, one to track Allie’s heartbeats. They want to make sure the heartrate goes up and down so they know she’s awake and responsive. Every time she moves, her heartrate would go from 120ish to 140-150 bpm. I laid on the bed and stared obsessively at the two moving graphs. I was curious how my contractions correlated to what was being graphed. Pretty amazing stuff. I soon saw a correlation between the two; when Allie would move and her heartbeats increased, it seemed to trigger contractions. Or maybe she was feeling the contractions coming on and would move before I felt them. I thought I would want to move around, lean on the birthing ball, walls, etc. during labor to feel better, but in that first room I thought my contractions felt more tolerable laying on my side. I even managed to snooze often between contractions. Annoying thing: the nurse who came in and hooked up the monitors had asked about my birthing plan, understood my request to not be medicated or put on an IV unless medically necessary, but later an Asian female doctor came in and kept pressuring me about getting an epidural and an IV in place. This doctor basically said I will not be allowed to drink anything because my stomach must be empty, so I have to have the IV in for hydration immediately. (She also checked me and said I was 3cm, so I KNEW I wasn’t that far along. Birthing class also prepared me with info that it was my choice, especially that early.) I put her off and said I’ll wait on that until I’m at least in the birthing room and farther along, it’s too early for me to insert an IV right now because I wanted the freedom to move around as needed when I’m in pain, so she eventually left me alone. I never saw her again, but apparently she was full of shit because the first nurse returned, respecting my birthing plan, with drink boxes of juice and a big cup of ice water. She said I need to keep drinking orally to stay hydrated. I knew there was another way. At 11am, I was told they would admit me. The pain of the cramping at this point was about a 6 on the pain scale (4 at home). I knew I refused pain medication, but I sure thought about it a lot. I had a secret hope that I’d be so far along that the option of pain meds would no longer exist, either because I’d be pushing before meds could kick in, or because I’d have already reached maximum pain (5-6cm) and realized I could handle it.
I had compiled a big playlist of songs that don’t fail to make me feel happy, hoping they’d help with endorphin production, and Mr. W had put the songs on his iPad. They played the entire time I was in the Labor & Delivery assessment room, but I didn’t have him play them for too long in the private birthing room because I realized I was tuning the music out, anyway. Contractions have a way of taking your full attention. I kept thinking of Jordan’s warning: you’d find this music annoying when you’re in labor. It didn’t get to that, tho.

In my private birthing room later, I was introduced to a very nice nurse who wrote “do not offer pain medication” (meaning if I wanted it, I’d ask for it) and “have a healthy baby girl” on the whiteboard for our goals for this birth. Next to that, she wrote in pink “Welcome Baby Allison!” and drew a pink cloud around that. I’d stared at that obsessively throughout the day, too. A nurse midwife came in and introduced herself, and said she could split my care with the Asian doctor from the initial labor & delivery assessment room if I liked. Mr. W answered that for me immediately. “I think your care alone would be preferable.” Thank you for knowing me, Mr. W! I couldn’t talk to respond as I was overtaken with a contraction. The nurse tended to me as I waited out the rest of my labor with the midwife coming in every so often. They only brought up once that I can have alternatives to pain management if I chose, and they confirmed my IV delay were still my wishes, which it was, so they kept bringing me juice and water. Time seemed to fly by as I stared at the monitors again, fascinated by how my contractions registered. I kept being surprised how many hours have passed when to me it seemed like quarter hours. Soon (to me), the nurse said she was going to have the midwife come in to check my progress. I said that after all these contractions, if I was only dilated 3.5 cm, I’d jump out the window. She chuckled and said she was pretty sure I was farther along than 3.5.

When the midwife came in for the assessment, it was about 2pm. She checked me and announced I’m at 8cm. That’s significant progress to dilate 5cm in about 2 hours, so those contractions were doing their job! The usual rule of thumb for dilation, they told me, is 1/2 to 1cm per hour. I was so happy and relieved to be so soon nearing the end of my labor, and even more relieved for pain medication reasons — as I had learned in class that the pain peaks at 5-6 cm, once I’m past that point I’ll know for sure whether I need pain relief. I was now so far past that point that I knew I could hang in there and have my childbirth the way I’d wanted it. The midwife asked if it would be okay with me if she let a family practice doctor doing his residency come in for the delivery under her supervision. She promised she’d be here directing and supervising, he just needed more experience. I didn’t care WHO saw my crotch at this point (plus, she asked at a good time, when I was deliriously happy about my 8cm). The more staff and doctors on hand, the better. I gave her a thumbs-up as I was mid-contraction and couldn’t really talk. It seemed I was always mid-contraction at that point. The nurse warned me that as I’m now in the “transition stage” of labor (8-10 cm), I would soon feel urges from my body to push. “If I’m not here, do NOT push without calling me first,” she said, pointing at the nurse call-switch attached to the bed. “Just breathe through the contractions.”

Transition stage was the worst of labor for me. I give it an 8 on pain scale, but that’s not the hardest part. The urge to push started out subtle, where I wasn’t sure if what I was feeling was what she was referring to. A few more contractions in, and the urge felt like spasms caused by imminent diarrhea (i.e., when you think your bowels are going to burst if you keep holding it in, and when you begin to succumb to the pressure and let go, the body takes on a pushing life of its own). I breathed through 4-5 of these contractions, and all I could do was hang on to the railing on the bed and mew out my breath in “ooh”s as I waited for the peak to pass on each 90 second to 4-minute contraction (I was still pretty inconsistent). I remembered the breathing suggestion in birthing class to get through the pushing urge, and I let my breath out in blows as if I were trying to put out a candle. It did help. I also did visualizations that I was in my court reporter Louise’s pain-free bubble of light so the pain would come from me, then leave me as they get pushed out the bubble. That helped, too. Suddenly, it occurred to me at this point that maybe I was holding off on pushing for nothing. I made Mr. W call the nurse in and I asked her if I could push. She said clearly, “NO,” and I was left in mixed relief at not having done the wrong thing, and disappointment at having to keep waiting, while she ran to get the midwife. The midwife and a young male doctor came in. She said she would check me to see if I could push yet, and the male doctor introduced himself. I put a finger up and gasped, “Hold on — contraction.” They looked to the monitor and followed me “oohing” and blowing through a double contraction (where the first would start dying but start into another one before leaving altogether). The male doctor checked me in the very short time I had between oohings and he said there was still some cervical lip. The midwife checked after he did to confirm. She said sure enough, I’m at a 9.5 and would be pushing very soon. Breathing through a contraction, I listened to Mr. W inquire about possible scar tissue from my past LEEP procedure causing the leftover lip, and the midwife explain that any such scar tissue would hold the cervix together at maybe 1-1.5 cm but that in active labor, it wouldn’t stand a chance.

Now at 9.5-10 cm, around me people were jumping into position and setting up instruments, scrubbing up, putting on gloves. This “pushing” stage of labor, by the way, was nearly pain-free, altho it caused the most problems. The midwife and nurse told me to go ahead and start pushing, instructing me to hold my breath at the beginning of the contraction for a count of 10 as I pushed, then release the breath and take another one very quickly, hold as I push for a count of 10, and then to do it a third time. Someone asked if I needed someone to count for me. Yes, please! So that became Mr. W’s job. The midwife and nurse took turns putting finger pressure on my birth canal so that sensation could guide me to know where I was to push from and toward. Mr. W asked if they were stretching my perenium, and the nurse said no. I was a little disappointed, since I also wanted to prevent an episiotomy if I could. I feel like the majority of labor had a sort of drugged element to it from my body’s trauma- and pain-counteracting hormones, because when I look back the details are blurred and one scene sort of fades into the next. I don’t have the sharpness of memory I usually do when I could go back and relive the smells, feels, details, etc. The nurse was alone helping me at one early point of pushing and asked if I’d urinated recently. I said not since I first entered this room. She thought my bladder felt full to her and that if that was the case, it would explain why the baby was having a hard time descending into the birth canal. I pushed through a few more contractions as Mr. W counted and the nurse asked me to try to urinate as she put a bedpan under me. I told her I didn’t feel like I had to pee, but I tried anyway. Nothing. Was she SURE the bladder was full? She said at this point not having an empty bladder is a problem, and offered me a CATHETER. I freaked a little internally. I asked a lot of questions, such as whether it’s the only way, and she said yes because at this point of labor I can’t get up and walk to the restroom. Is an empty bladder necessary? Yes; otherwise the baby’s head would hit the bladder and not fit under it to come out. Would she lubricate the catheter? Yes. Is it removed right away? It would stay in place through labor only. I had to say yes. It wasn’t comfortable going in and I “ow-ed” it a couple of times, but the feeling was unspecific. General urinary tract discomfort, and once it was in place, I couldn’t even feel it, nor did I have any sensation that my bladder was emptying. Mr. W kept an eye on everything from my side. I knew he could tell me what’s going on, but chose correctly to stay quiet. I didn’t need an “ew” element to my day at this point.

Soon the midwife and doctor returned, and the three medical personnel, plus a new nurse along with Mr. W, coached me through the last bit of it. I was having some problems. Based on what I overheard and what was explained to me, the baby was having some difficulty staying wherever my last push landed her. (I almost wrote “him” because for some reason, the baby coming out was male in my head at that point. I now wonder whether I’d referred to Allie as “he” when I talked to them. They probably thought I was delirious.) She would get through my pelvis into my birth canal, then get sucked back up when I released the push. The midwife manually pushed back a cervical tilt to help the baby’s head come through. This time she stayed in my birth canal, adding to the pressure and the desire to push as each contraction waved over me. I was instructed over and over (nicely) to hold my knees in the air with my hands curved under the bend of my knees, keep my elbows out, not put energy into pushing on my face or making any sound, but to concentrate all energy into pushing with my lower bowels. Mr. W was wonderful, staying to the right of my head, counting (altho sometimes his counts were slower than the counts going on in my head) and occasionally giving me advice and updates, much as the 4-man medical team did. Collectively, they sounded like: “Deep breath, in and out, okay, now push! One, two, three — Her head’s visible! Come on, come on, seven, eight, nine, ten! Deep breath in! One, two, three…push push! Don’t push with your face, don’t make sounds, all your strength down below! Nine, ten, breathe! One more! One, two, three…” Soon, “Good job! That was the farthest she’s come out yet! One more like that and we’d have Allison!” So the baby was apparently just sliding in and out as the doctor and midwife worked to get her out all the way. Initially, I was pushing “carefully” from my abs, like my cousin and a friend advised. “They tell you to push like you’re going poop, but that’s how you get labor hemorroids. Push at your abs.” The problem? Both of those women had epidurals and did not feel the “urge to push” which was VERY concentrated in the bowels. My biggest problem was holding my breath while pushing with the bowel urge. I’d run out air at like 6 or 7. Apparently I was letting air out while I was straining and making straining noises from my throat. Taking a new breath at this time didn’t help because I always took too long, so my pushing at the later ends of each contraction was not very strong. After all the coaching to push like I’m going #2, I finally gave up in my head (since clearly I was getting nowhere doing it “my” way), and gave in to nature and pushed with EVERYTHING down below. Wow, allowing that internal mechanism to work was amazing. My body took over pushing and sometimes pushed so hard for me that my legs shook. The medical team and Mr. W would get VERY excited looking at the progress when I would push that way, so I continued. If I jacked up my privates pushing this way, I thought, oh well cuz it’ll heal. Besides, I had already asked if the doctor could just grab Allie by the ears and pull her out for me and they had all laughed and said sorry, this baby didn’t have a handle they could grab for me…so it was all up to me. Waiting for the next contraction to come (Mr. W said I was like clockwork at this point with contractions coming exactly every 2 mins) while the baby was lodged in my birth canal, visible to everyone else, sucked for me. Since my contractions were longer than the average contraction, the medical team allowed me the option of giving 4 pushes if I felt like it instead of the standard 3. (I would ask why I felt pain in my lower abdomen after I’d done the 3rd push, and they had explained it’s cuz my contraction wasn’t over and as I wasn’t pushing, it didn’t relieve the pain. Pushing at this point really DID feel good.) I took them up on it toward the end and that’s what made it the end. Mr. W would try to tell me through the excitement in his voice that I was making progress. “One, two, three, FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN!!! EIGHT!!!!!!” That’s how I knew, and plus his eyes would grow wide and he’d look happy. While waiting in between contractions once, the midwife and doctor commented in amusement about how they could see Allie moving her head trying to find a way out. They offered me a mirror and basically, oh HELL no, keep that thing away from me. I don’t want a visual. (Mr. W later confirmed this was a smart choice on my part.)

Allie’s heartrate had slowed a little on the monitor. The midwife walked to the head of the bed and talked to me about the benefits of starting an IV line in delivering fluids or intervention quickly if needed. She didn’t say WHAT intervention, when, or why, but basically that in case the baby has a problem, they want to have faster access to an IV so suggested I open up an hep lock, or to get an IV connected now. She said they also administer a dose of Pitocin after the birth to help the uterus shrink back down, and it could be a shot on my thigh muscle or administered through the IV, it was up to me. I was still confused as to how an IV line on me would help a baby in distress, but Mr. W answered for me and said that at this point, an IV wouldn’t be an impediment because I’m not going to get up and move around anyhow. The reason we didn’t want one in from the beginning is to keep me from having to lay in bed through my entire labor there (which I ended up doing anyway cuz I found contractions felt significantly smaller when I’m lying on my side) and I didn’t want to be tempted to get pain meds injected in an IV line (which will go through my bloodstream and dope up the baby). So they hooked up a fluid IV and then a Pitocin bag on the back of my left hand.

My memory is blurred at this point, but I remember the push that got Allie out, I was letting air out in a big strained grunt and I felt no pain, but a lot of warmth along with fast-moving lumpiness coming through me in a big fluid rush, and then a slimy Allie was placed on my stomach as the atmosphere in the room got way more excited. I can’t remember my first words to my daughter, but I think they were something like, “Hey, you little kicker!” I was surprised how heavy she felt on my stomach, couldn’t see her too well from my position, and I thought her cry was adorable. What a beautiful voice. I was aware of the doctor and midwife still working between my knees. Mr. W had originally wanted to “catch” but didn’t get to as the doctor in training did it, so they let him cut the umbilical cord. I was glad I didn’t have to look at that, too. Gross. It happened sooner than I’d expected. A nurse took that photo for Mr. W. Then they took Allie to a corner to clean her off and do some preliminary exams. From that point on, Allie was never out of our sight for the duration of the hospital stay. Mr. W followed at the nurse’s invitation, and took a video of Allie’s first bath. The doc and midwife worked away stitching together a tear in my perenium (internal; externally it stretched sufficiently with a little help from the doctor’s fingers). I was told to give two good pushes and I birthed my placenta (felt like a flush of hot liquid, almost comforting), which I later asked to see and the midwife showed me what appeared to be a giant red jellyfish. Apparently that’s where the membrane around the baby was attached; I had been wondering that. The cord was still attached to the inside, and she turned it over for me so I could see the red side attached to my uterus compared to the blue side that faced the baby. Fascinating. I told her how my friend Christi said her placenta was the grossest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and that was why I was interested in seeing mine. Apparently mine was huge and healthy, which is probably what allowed Allie to stay in there longer than she should’ve. She constantly got sufficient oxygen and nutrition. (Later on before I was discharged from the hospital, the male doctor came to visit us, and I asked him whether I should’ve gotten the episiotomy; he said old-school doctors did it automatically but that the newer doctors, presumably himself included, don’t do it unless it’s essential. Where I tore was where they would’ve done the episiotomy anyway, and I tore at a 1st-2nd degree and the episiotomy would’ve likely been 2nd degree, so it came out a wash in his opinion.)

As I lay there being finished up, stats of Allie were called out. Her APGAR score was 8-9 (I remember that her hands and feet were kinda blue-gray), which made me cheer cuz that was one of the reasons I didn’t want pain relief. Shocker: her weight was 8 lbs, 2 oz. That’s HUGE! No wonder she had problems coming out easily. But she’s not a chubby girl by any means; she was also tall at 21 inches. The nurses said she was “overcooked.” Mr. W made a joke about how she’s already outgrown the tiny baby shoes given to her as shower gifts from friends. When I got a good look at her face, I thought she looked exactly like my dad with her swollen face and eyes. I told Mr. W that sorry, apparently he got no genetic input except for her size. Someone said, “Did any of you verify the gender?” Silence, then one nurse said, “I did: girl.”

Briefly, the hospital was amazing. I felt like I was in a five-star hotel being waited on, except with lots of people giving me free advice, help, and stuff to take home including a diaper bag stuffed with goodies. We opted to stay an extra night even tho Mr. W wanted to be home, because I was happy absorbing the breastfeeding assistance and tips and medication. Plus it came in handy when we would see some spots of orange, like what appeared to be diluted blood, in a wet diaper. I just called the nurse in and asked if they could check it out. Turned out it was normal, just a response from the baby to my body’s hormones since I was breastfeeding immediately. I wasn’t in pain after the birth and could walk around just fine. My parents and Mr. W’s daughter arrived at the hospital during the time I was being transferred to my private recuperation room, where the three of us (Mr. W, myself, and Allie) would stay until we were discharged, and they all remarked how well I looked a couple of hours after birthing a baby. Natural hormones are amazing.

Thanks for reading!

Since last week’s checkup, I’ve been having cramps and back pain and sensations that the doctor AND experienced friends have told me are mild contractions, so I was hoping I’d be much farther along now. Turned out, I’m now 90% effaced (I thought I was almost completely effaced last time, so after a week I’m only at 90%?), and my dilation has gone from 1cm last week to…*drumroll*…1.5 cm. AUGH! All those cramps for HALF a centimeter? That means I’m STILL too small for him to sweep the membranes. Also, the baby’s head lowered MAYBE half a station, from 0 to “between 0 and +1.” ALLIE! You little procrastinator! This is a day PAST your due date!

The OB did say, tho, that once I’m fully effaced, the dilation will happen more quickly. “You’re really paper-thin right now already,” he said. “And didn’t you have a LEEP?” I sure did. “You might have a little bit of scar tissue from the LEEP that keeps you from dilating quickly right now, but that’s not going to stop labor. Once it gets going that scar tissue isn’t going to be a factor.” Interesting. “You’re definitely in the count-down now,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “I still think you’re going to be in labor sometime this week, but just in case, I’ve reserved a spot for you for induction next week at the hospital.” So the plan is, I go in to get looked at one last time next Monday if I haven’t given birth, cuz that would be my 41st week of pregnancy. If I’ve progressed enough for Pitocin to be effective (3 cm or so), then I go to the doctor’s appointment at the main hospital that I’d be birthing at for the induction. I asked about possibly waiting till Monday’s appointment to decide whether to do an induction, cuz I don’t want to spend my ENTIRE labor strapped to a bed in the hospital. I’d still like to be as natural as possible. He said the issue is that if he didn’t reserve me a spot already, it may be hard to get a spot in time, and by “in time,” he’s talking about within the 42nd week of labor because the placenta starts becoming less able to do its job to provide enough oxygen and nutrients to a baby that needs more. By that time it becomes a “balancing game” between timing an induction and letting it go naturally if possible.

Something else progressed VERY slowly, too, but this one I’m happy about. I was afraid she’d put on a pound a week at this point (from stuff I’d read) and that I’d have to birth a 12-pounder or something. But between the last appointment and this one, I’d only put on 0.2 lbs. “You’re doing really good on that,” my OB praised. (What a change from 2nd trimester!) He still thinks her weight will be fine (in the 7s) and said that I don’t have a small pelvis so there shouldn’t be a problem getting her out naturally. People with flatter pelvic openings and heart-shaped pelvic cavities have a harder time. I asked how I could tell what my pelvis is like, and he said he could feel it when he checked my cervix, and I have an oval/round pelvic opening and will be fine. Whew.

The OB did one of those uncomfortable/painful cervical checks again, and said there’s definitely progress. Allie’s head is straight on against my bladder, and engaged at 0 station. I’m dilated to 1 cm. Effacement is almost complete. (I think the LEEP helped.) He updated her expected arrival date from “due date” to “the week after her due date,” which is what gave me the clue that I didn’t progress as far as he’d expected me to by now. He later confirmed that (without knowing) by telling me he can’t do a membrane sweep this week because 1cm is too small for him to fit his finger in, but that by my appointment next week (the day AFTER my due date, wah!), he could do it if I want. He said there’s no reason to induce at this point, Allie’s measuring a perfectly normal size and doing well, but if she doesn’t come at 41 weeks, then we can schedule something. He noted that recently, he’d scheduled 4 patients for induction after they passed 41 weeks, and by the 42nd week, 3 of them naturally went into labor before the scheduled induction date. I guess the threats helped the kids decide to come on their own. =P

I explained that my concern would be that I wanted to deliver a smaller baby to avoid complications, and I’m afraid that the longer I wait, the more there is a chance that Allie pops out a 8.5 lb baby. He was very unconcerned about that. “Her size is already pre-determined. Remember how in the 2nd trimester, we had talked a lot about your weight gain and nutrition?” OH yeah. “That’s to prevent the baby from being oversized. Women who birth a very large baby were already making their babies large early on. There’s nothing you can do at this point that would suddenly make your baby gain 3 pounds before you deliver, while it’s true that babies do gain weight toward the end.” I felt just a teeny bit better about the odds and ends of Halloween candy I’d had a couple of weeks ago. Darned lazy neighborhood kids didn’t feel like ringing our bell much this year. “Do you have any other questions or concerns?”

We certainly did. Mr. W brought out his FMLA forms for the second time to this doctor, and explained all the stress this was causing us and showed him the rejection letter from the Kaiser Disability Department. The OB already had his pen out before Mr. W even finished talking. We explained that all Mr. W’s work needed was a signature from my doctor certifying that yes, I really am pregnant. My OB had originally thought we needed to start the FMLA process with him, which meant that he had to do write-ups and diagnoses which he didn’t have time to do, but when he realized it was only a signature on Mr. W’s work form (which Mr. W had already filled out except for the physician signature section) and he didn’t have to do a separate FMLA packet, he readily wrote “wife is pregnant, EDC 11/21/11″ and signed off on it. And then he apologized for all the stress we’d been undergoing while we were running in circles and hitting walls on this requirement in order for Mr. W to get FMLA. On the way to the appointment, I was visualizing the OB taking the paperwork and signing it, no conflict, and he did. One huge hurdle…uh…hurdled. Good thing, too, cuz when Mr. W emailed his superior the rejection letter from Disability, the response he got back was to the effect of “Yeah, that sucks, but we still need our form signed to give you FMLA; what you’d turned in before from her doctor still isn’t good enough.”

I had lower abdominal cramps on and off all day and night after my appointment. The doctor had asked me about symptoms, and I told him periodic cramps that felt like menstrual cramps, with lower back soreness. He thought those may have been mild contractions. So hopefully, I’ll have gradual, relatively painless contractions until I hit the transition part of labor, and then I’ll deliver.

I’ve had pretty heavy munchies for the past few weeks. I’ve been trying to get myself to reach for healthier alternatives to chocolate, cookies, etc., so when I stood in front of the open refrigerator, I’d reach for an apple daily. Mr. W has been buying Fujis and recently, a new crop called “Honeycrisps” from Costco, so I’ve been eating those. It wasn’t until the other day when I was crunching into one and looked down to see the mostly-green skin that I had a small start. At a private reading at least 6 months ago, Rebecca had asked me if I liked “green apples.” I think Granny Smith apples when I think “green apples,” so I said no. She said she could see me eating green apples late in my pregnancy. I thought that was unlikely. I don’t like sour stuff or hard chewy stuff and Granny Smiths were both. But these Fujis and Honeycrisps are 2/3 to 3/4 green-colored, and depending how I’m holding them, they look as she described: green apples. Mr. W noted how she’d been wrong about every delivery date she’d foreseen for Allie. I said that the doctor said over and over again that we now know the baby decides when it’s going to come out by releasing labor hormones when its ready, and that Rebecca can’t see clearly things that haven’t been decided yet. It’s possible that her “as early as the 7th to as late as the 23rd” is the range of days that Allie would be fine coming out, but Allie had decided she wasn’t quite ready, yet, when those dates came and went. Nevertheless, Rebecca saw this as my delivery scenario:

Rebecca: Cindy, I think Allie will make you think nothing is happening. Then, bingo, everything will be hard and fast and it will be over before you know it.
Me: uh-oh…that sounds like Pitocin usage. =/
Rebecca: Nope, I don’t think so. I think you may be one of those lucky women whose contractions aren’t that painful until you are in transition. And transition goes pretty quickly.
Me: I would be SO grateful if that happened! Louise has been sending early prayers and putting me in bubbles of pain-free light.
Rebecca: And Louise does good work with those bubbles
Louise: Sweet prayers to you with all the warmth and comfort the Universe has to offer. You’re so strong. Just breathe and focus.

So I was SO comfortable…that yesterday, Mr. W and I went to see the newest release of the Twilight Series, “Breaking Dawn, Part I.” It was the most well-done of all the Twilight movies so far, and very well adapted from the book, but I still wish that Kristen Stewart had the acting capacity to truly capture Bella’s character. Bella has a very cute, quirky and funny side, and Stewart plays her one-dimensionally. All angst, kinda annoying. As usual, Taylor Lautner did awesomely. He was just like the character of Jacob at this point in the books, and created the same feelings of irritation (for his constant running-off tantrums) and grudging compassion (cuz I’ve been thru that unrequited love frustration) from me that I had for Jacob in reading the book. And after the movie, I was tricked/dragged to going for a walk and early dinner at Dana Point harbor. Hubby is so restless.

Until last nite. I’d been having random minor lower abdominal cramps, feeling like menstrual cramps. I would give it a 2 on the pain scale — annoying and distracting but not rising to any caliber where I’d even be concerned with it. But last nite as I tried to sleep, these cramps were persistent, strong, and joined by lower back pain. Half-awake, I thought to myself that if this continued, I wasn’t sure if I could make it to my last scheduled day of work in the morning. At some point, everything subsided and I fell easily into sleep until the morning. I did dream that I had these awful sensations at work and had to leave early. (I still think that if I have to deal with the stresses of work in my dreams, I oughta get overtime.) I remember saying to Mr. W in the midst of these cramps, “I think she’s coming this weekend, if not tomorrow.”

Yesterday at work, I was in the restroom and studied my engorged-looking tummy in the mirror. That old Ambrosia song popped into my head and I thought, looking at the giant bump, “…she IS the ‘Biggest Part of Me.’ ” I googled the lyrics, and yup, looks appropriate when you think about it being applied to my baby girl. I think this’ll be our song.

BIGGEST PART OF ME – Ambrosia

Sunrise, there’s a new sun arisin’
In your eyes, I can see a new horizon
Realize, that will keep me realizin’
You’re the biggest part of me

Stay the night, Need your lovin’ here beside me
Shine the light, Need you close enough to guide me
For all my life, I’ve been hopin’ you would find me
You’re the biggest part of me

(Chorus:)
Well, make a wish, baby
Well and I will make it come true
Make a list, baby
Of the things I’ll do for you
Ain’t no risk now
In lettin’ my love rain down on you
So we could wash away the past
So that we may start anew

Rainbow, risin’ over my shoulder
Love flows, gettin’ better as we’re older
All I know, all I want to do is hold her
She’s the life that breathes in me
Forever, got a feelin’ that forever
Together, we are gonna stay together
For better, for me there’s nothin’ better
You’re the biggest part of me

(Chorus)

More than an easy feelin’
She brings joy to me
How can I tell you what it means to me
Flow like a lazy river
For an eternity
I’ve finally found someone who believes in me
And I’ll never leave

Oh, not to doubt now
Mmmm, make life grand

(Chorus)

Beside me, need your lovin’ here beside me
To guide me, keep it close enough to guide me
Inside of me, from the fears that are inside of me
You’re the biggest part of me

Forever, got a feelin’ that forever
Together, we are gonna stay together
Forever, from now until forever
You’re the biggest part of me
You’re the life that breathes in me
You’re the biggest part of me

You changed my life
You made it right
And I’ll be a servant to you
For the rest of my life
You’re the biggest part of me

(she IS the life that breathes and hiccups in me, and I’m sure she’ll make me her servant for long to come. )

I had my 38-week checkup with the OB Tuesday afternoon. Ultrasound revealed that Allie is still in the proper position — head down, laying on her side. Size looks good, the doctor still expects her to be within 7 lbs at due date. Good amount of amniotic fluid around her. Heartrate at approximately 130 bpm. My blood pressure looks good (105/70), and I’ve been steadily gaining about a pound a week so now I’m still right about at a 30-lb gain. Allie’s been active, altho now that there’s less room, there’s less nudging and more squirming. Often a foot will slide from my left upper ab to my right upper ab, and I’d get a hip check right under that. “Would you like me to check if you’re dilated?” he asked. Sure! I’m curious.

That manual check wasn’t comfortable. I involuntarily sputtered, “Ow!” He told me to take a deep breath and let it out slowly, and I did. It didn’t take long. So I’m 65%-70% effaced, but not dilated (normal to have only effacement first with a later dilation in first time pregnancies, he said). I asked him how he could tell the effacement by feel, and he said he could push up against the cervix and feel Allie’s head, and that her head is at -1 station. He said I’ve lost most of my mucus plug already, and that most women don’t lose it like a one-time plug falling out; they’d merely get thick discharge mixing into their already more frequent discharge. I’d expected to see some traces of blood when I lost my plug (which word, btw, is totally misleading), so I was a little surprised. He said some minor spotting is normal after a cervical check, but if I get blood-blood like a menstrual period, to call labor & delivery.
“You’re ahead of other women on a first pregnancy, but I’d still say to expect a due-date delivery. You can always have her early and prove me wrong,” he said with a smile. He offered to “sweep [my] membranes” at my next checkup (Nov 17) to encourage labor starting if I’d like. I actually don’t even expect to make that appointment, given what Rebecca has always said.

Rebecca, as of the evening after the appointment, still saw Allie arriving “around or by the 13th.”

I fell asleep early quite accidentally, but awoke around 9:30 p.m. thanks to a smack on the cheek delivered by Mr. W in his sleep. I felt some discharge leakage, which has become rather commonplace in my 3rd trimester. I wobbled to the restroom, which has also become very commonplace lately, especially after Allie made her 2nd drop this weekend. It looks like the rest of the mucus plug came out in that leakage. Nothing too exciting or different from what I had been discharging, except for the color being like that of old blood. I called out to Mr. W that the mucus plug came out, and he said groggily, “So what does that mean?”
“Nothing. Just that there’s some progress. And that Rebecca is more right than the doctor.” I soon heard snoring from the bedroom again. Meanwhile, I took a nice hot shower. I kept seeing the 10th in my head in my shower, so I thought I’d figure out what day that is. Thursday. My last day of work before scheduled maternity leave. I don’t expect any action anytime soon, so I hope to have an uneventful next few days at least until I’m off on maternity leave.

She’s 37 weeks today, which means she’s reached full term! Yay! I had a short and sweet OB visit this morning before work. I’m at 154 lbs, which I found rather disturbing, but the OB of all people wasn’t concerned. Almost as a pre-emptive excuse, when the doctor walked in and asked how the baby and I are, I told him she seems to be growing by leaps and bounds to the point where it’s noticeable every few days (not a lie). He said cavalierly, “Well, they’ll do that to ya at this point.” He measured my bump (such an understatement) and said it’s right on par with where it’s supposed to be (within 3 cm of the # of weeks gestation). He did an ultrasound and noted she’s head-down on her side, which is how she was orientated last check-up, and that her bladder’s full and “right about to pee.” I asked when I can expect her to do the last quarter-turn to be face-down, how the birthing class said is the position we want the baby to be born in. He explained, “We want her on her side right now. She’ll make that last turn herself to get out while you’re in labor.” Oh! She’s not a procrastinator. She’s been in that position for about a month now. He said what I had experienced last week mid-walk was likely a contraction, and that the rock-hard tightening of my stomach that I’ve felt (with my fingers) fairly often lately, which comes without any pain or much sensation, is the Braxton Hicks. As for the bumps and pokes I’ve felt on top near my diaphram, those are “booty-bumps” and she’s also got her right foot up there. I asked if he could tell how big she was at this point, and he said if they have a concern about the baby’s size at this point, they’d refer the patient to radiology for a proper measurement, but since everything measures within normal ranges, he expects her to be in the high 6 lbs, low 7 lbs at her due date. “Just where you wanted her to be,” I remembered.
As he helped me sit up, he said, “You’re at about 30 pounds right now?”
“I’m right about at 30, yes.”
“That’s good. I think you’re doing a good job in keep your weight where it should be, and she’s at the right size. Just keep up with the walks, keep your weight pretty much where it is, and you’re fine.” He shook my hand and smiled at me. Whoa, did he tell me 30 is okay? Is this Halloween today or April Fool’s Day? I thanked him went on my way to work.