Parenting
When I finally gave up any expectations, planned activities again, left the house wearing yoga pants, this little baby boy decided to come out, join us, release me from the bonds of pregnancy, birth, whatever you want to call it. Nearly 42 weeks, and yet his arrival wasn’t even the biggest surprise of all . . . that would be his size! Nine pounds, 15 ounces, almost a 15 inch head, and almost 22 inches long. Big. Beautiful. Baby. I’ve shared SuperBoy and SweetPea‘s birth biopics. Now that you’ve braced yourself for another rendition of unmediated labor, his story: ////// As I had given up on ever giving birth, late last week I decided it was time to resume life. I scheduled playdates, knit dates, went to see the Matisse exhibit at the MIA {amazing! too bad last weekend was the end of it! his work is stunning, of course, and the Baltimore Museum is lucky to have such a wide-ranging collection!}. I even went clothing shopping with my sister for a few summer outfits for her! I waddled around Grand Avenue, determined to just focus on our induction date at 42 weeks on the nose, and expect nothing else. Saturday was a normal day in the life of a largely pregnant woman. I cooked & tidied. My mom and I went furniture hunting and found a few great pieces! The kids went to the park with AA. I planned on going to the very early morning mass Sunday just…
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I have not been patient toward the end of this pregnancy. I kept thinking we’d go early, like with SweetPea. I kept thinking my water was about to break {and then thought it had}. I planned ahead so much, I had the entire month of May scheduled for blog posts and our meal plan! I nested so hardcore, there was nothing left to sort except the freezer. I let my head leap ahead of my pregnant tumtum, and look where we are now. 41 weeks. Still prego. Had our scan today and found out he’s completely healthy and happy! And that my cervix is doing well and getting ready . . . so I gave up the despairing attitude and decided we can go til 42 weeks before induction. He really truly might come on his own. It had been a long few weeks and we were wavering on when to induce. At one point I thought that there was no single way on God’s green earth I could go past 41 weeks. As soon as they did the scans to ensure he was okay, take him OUT. But then I thought, well, maybe if my cervix has changed. Maybe if there are signs he could come in his own time. My wise double doula team reminded me that lots can happen in hours, much less days. And that it doesn’t hurt him to give him a longer leash. And my midwives are awesome about birth being natural, normal, and…
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Have you seen a billion Mother’s Day ideas online? Me too. Many include purchasing beautiful gifts (like me & my etsy shop coupon for 30% off MAMA21014) or designing intricate projects. Pinterest worthy. Not realistic for me. Let’s be honest. I’m STILL pregnant at 40+ weeks and motivation is at an all time low. It was miraculous we got to the park the other night (well, that I went along to the nightly ritual of the park). Gotta admit: Mother’s Day for us is usually so low key at our house. We kids either go in on a gift for our mom, or we all do our own thing, and for me, AA has the kids do some artwork and shower me with extra kisses. It’s a beautiful but, like I said, low key time o’ year. Right now, sitting at 40+ weeks pregnant, I would love the gift of our son’s arrival, frankly. ARE YOU LISTENING, BABYLOVES? Riiiight back to your free ideas, for those who’ve run out of time or moolah. 1) Love letter. You don’t have to be a poet. You just have to be able to either write, or type, and say something(s) nice. They can be trite; they can be deep. Just compose it. Something like this for my mama: Dear Mama, You always put your children first, above your own needs, wants, and dreams in life. And now that you’re older and we tease you about wearing our sweatpants from high school, know also…
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Or when I wet myself in our kitchen. There. I said it. Embarrassment over. Or just beginning? At either rate, when SuperBoy exclaimed “Oh, Mama, you had an accident!”–turns out the kid was on to something. You see, I thought I was a water-breaking pro. My water has broken with both the other children so I figured I’d know it when I felt it/saw it/dare I use another sense? It was the perfect day to have a baby. Saturday morning, my sister went off to help close family friends move as did AA. I took the kids in the double stroller I gratefully inherited from a cousin for a vigorous walk. It’s been a while since I was that brave as to actually attempt exercise, but I’d have a great sleep Friday night. I had finished knitting a special blanket for BabyLoves with this beautiful hand-died yarn my brother & sis-in-law gave me last year. The stars had aligned. I was ready for an adventure, a warm beverage, and maybe a bakery item. Off we zoomed. The kids were happy! It was sunny and bright! The cinnamon swirl I got from Bread & Chocolate was perfectly baked and the kiddos gnoshed their croissants merrily. We headed back down Summit Avenue, actually seeing AA’s red truck he had packed with our friends’ furniture roll down the road in front of us! Yes, I was feeling contractions and tightness, both of which I attributed to my being abysmally out of shape. As…
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It’s here. He’s full-term. That means I can still water birth it even if he comes now instead in a few weeks {take him now, God, take him now!!!}. So now I get to subject you to more nesting photos. Because I’m crafty nesting, design the bathroom nesting, and putting away winter clothing nesting. And I may have lost my to do list. So I’m don’t-ing and just doing what I feel like. Fair enough? On an aside, I had an amusing exchange with a midwife–not my norm–at my 37 week visit. She wanted to talk family planning postpartum and I was all game. I’m sure somewhere (everywhere?) in my chart it says we’re Catholic & don’t use contraceptives & {gasp} use natural methods of charting fertility. Mostly my midwives & I talk about this stuff at the beginning and then they’re open to questions, but let me do my thing. But she’s the first midwife who wanted to delve deeper. How many children do you want to have? What happens when you’ve reached a place where you feel you’ve had all your children? Do you know breastfeeding isn’t 100% accurate for preventing fertility? How did it go with planning your other children? I just want to answer all your questions about using NFP to prevent pregnancies . . . . I genuinely felt she cared and wanted to be helpful and get to the bottom of my perplexing responses {we don’t have a set number of children in mind} {we’re not…
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The perceived hubris of the unmedicated birth stands the same, always: I’m a tougher, more natural, more loving mother because I embraced terrible suffering to bring you into this world, little one. Hey, not only is that inaccurate but also unfair. As with so many ideals, sometimes things don’t work out. I needed pitocin with SweetPea to jump start things. Many a friend has done natural births a few times and then switched to medicated, ne’er looking back with regret. Some people’s births don’t go the natural way; some people don’t want their births to go the natural way. These are not moral decisions. Parenting styles, not parenting values. {Look at me surrounded by my doula team–the one & only Liz Abbene of Enlightened Mama & Emily Rumsey of everything Emily. Could I be in better hands?} I just read this great article written by a local midwife titled Why Are We Afraid? Thanks for passing it along, Emily! It gave me a lot of food for thought, especially as right now I’m thinking: Why do we do this? I always ask AA around this point in pregnancy. The point where no position is comfortable and my child is kicking and punching me all the time. Why do we opt for unmedicated birth? Are we gluttons for punishment? Are we trying to prove something? Can I do this again? His calming answer is we do it because it’s what’s best for you and baby. He’s right, of course. That’s how this whole natural birth & parenting thing began. Reading, listening, researching,…
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