38 weeks and Holy Hotness Batman!

So apparently my plan of ending my pregnancy before the heat of summer arrived has backfired--while us Seattleites usually enjoy a cool, damp, and sometimes dreary June, this year Ma Nature is thumbing her nose at my careful planning by sending us our first heat wave remarkabley early. Yesterday hit about 95 in my back yard, which in our particular climate feels like being wrapped in a wool blanket whilst sitting in a sauna. Being humongously pregnant doesn't help. By late afternoon I felt drugged, but couldn't sleep because it was too warm in the house. When I finally was able to drift off, I slept to hard and too long resulting in a very groggy, lethargic evening. I felt much better after soaking in a cool bath for awhile. The kids had a ball-they played outside nearly all day, enjoying the sprinkler and potting veggie plants with Grandma. Garrett was disappointed to miss our first Farmer's Market of the year, but Grandma decided it was just too hot to try and walk him down there, and I agreed.

Today is my self-imposed deadline to have everything ready for the birth. We have our last meeting with our doula tonight, and I want everything in place so we can do a walk-through of the house to show her where it all is. That means I have to clean out our dressing room (our bedroom is comprised of two smaller rooms that we connected with french double doors-one houses our bed, the other our dressers and closets-it also holds the cradle and rocking chair-that's the "dressing room" (or as Morgan calls it, "dressing-up room")--aren't we fancy?) to make way for the birth pool and stools for people to sit on. I also need to create a tidy place for towels and linens, as well as the medical supplies. We'll set up candles on the dresser tops, and might have time to squeeze in installing a dimmer switch for the little chandelier we have in there, but it should turn out to be a very lovely birthing space. And having everything in there as opposed to the living room gives our guests a place to go should I require some private time. We have, as usual, quite the list of potential attendees (nearly all are contingent on when labor happens and how long it lasts)--myself, Troy, my mom and the kids are definites, followed by two midwives and our doula (unless I have a super-fast labor, which is a possibility but not a real concern), my dad (if baby can wait until the 10th), Erin (close friend and videographer of our other births), and Katie (another close friend who was present for Morgan's birth). That's 10 (not including me) people. That's a lot. But really, in comparison to a hospital birth where you will have 2-3 nurses, 1-4 doctors, 1-2 companions, 1 doula, and yourself, it isn't that bad-and I'd choose 10 people I know and love over 5 strangers in my birth room any day. And this way I can have some privacy without having to hide in the bathroom (I've had to send a number of laboring mommas into the bathroom for alone time because nurses and/or docs wouldn't leave them alone in their hospital rooms--seriously, who wants to go cry about medical interventions in a strange bathroom?) and my birth attendants will have a comfy place to hang out until I need them again. All in all, I'm really excited about creating my "birth suite" and am really hoping to labor for at least 3 or 4 hours so that I get a chance to use it. That may sound odd, a momma hoping for a longer rather than shorter labor, but I enjoy giving birth-and the shorter it is, the less time you have to adjust to the process and be in the moment--this makes the journey (and pain) more intense and out-of-control feeling. Now granted, I've never gone through a long, hard labor, so we'll see how this one goes and whether my attitude stays the same.

Fast forward to later today: Mom and I took the kids to a park on the Cedar River today in an attempt to relax, have fun, and stay cool. While we had fun and stayed cool, there was not so much of the relaxing--such is the life of a momma with young, energetic children. This particular park is neat because there is a little alcove built next to the river, so that river water runs in and out but there is a low wall to block the current (a very good thing, as it was running fast with snow melt-off today). So the kids were able to play in it much like a lake beach, but much colder-if I stood in it too long it made my calves cramp. So while I didn't get to bob around as I would have liked, it was hilarious watching the kids explore and test their own limits with the temperature-by the time we left they were able to sit in it up to their armpits, and tried to convince us they weren't cold! But oh, it was nice to sit in the shade with a cool breeze coming across the water. And get a little bit of sun on my gargantuan belly ;).

Oh, and I suppose I should add that at Monday's appt with midwife Val my blood pressure was normal, my urine test from the week before was great (no protein whatsoever, for those who googled preeclampsia-Shelley, you're going to be a walking pregnancy textbook by the time this baby is born ;) ), and while I've gained more weight than I'd like, we are all very pleased with things right now! Val drew more blood because, as she said, "once we start drawing, we kind of have to keep doing it," but she doesn't expect it to look weird--though she did admit being very alarmed by the initial bloodwork that set this whole mess rolling last week. We are very happy to no longer be alarming.

Oh, and we had a wonderful time throwing my henna party this last Sunday. It was just a joy-all my ladies (minus a few who had fairly legitimate reasons for not attending) gathered around, waiting on me, massaging my feet, and thoroughly enjoying each others' company while we all got painted. My belly art is awesome (it drew quite a few eyes at the beach today) and I really loved the general feeling of peace and happiness everyone brought along with them.

About 10 minutes in:
30 Min in:

Almost done! She was awesome-she added a bunch of stuff to the original design as I would request it, and made it look like it was supposed to be there. And she's only 19! (She works with her mom, who did the other ladies' art and was also my mentor doula during my training.) I soooo want to learn to do henna.

The ladies with their hands done (minus mom and my doula-mom's taking the shot and Alissa had to leave prior)-the artists took portraits of us all outside as well, I'll post them when I get them. My belly looks weird and oblong here...or maybe that's how it always looks, I can't see the whole thing all at once!!

The henna looks very dark here because the paste is still on--it takes about 6 hrs to set. I'll take more pics tomorrow so you can see what it looks like now that it has its full color-it takes a few days to finish staining and will stay for 2-3 wks, depending on how well I protect it. It's very cool and I totally recommend it.

It seems unreal that all these things I've been waiting for (readying the birth room, henna-ing my belly, gathering baby supplies, etc) are actually happening and we are now just counting days until our family has a new member. This pregnancy has been a complicated, unpredictable journey--but one I will saver while I have it and cherish forever, as with the little human we will soon have as a result of it. Despite all the hurdles, today I am just joyful. What a wonderful feeling.

37 weeks and unwelcome surprises

Our last few days have been completely hijacked by some news we recieved Wed. We had blood work done the week before to re-check my iron levels and make sure my anemia was well on its way to resolution. Through that test we discovered that other things had gone wonky in my body, and while my iron levels have completely recovered, it happened so fast that it (and a somewhat elevated blood pressure and low platelet counts) indicated a problem-once all the dots were connected my midwives concluded that I had become at risk for preeclampsia (google it if you want more info, it's hard to explain). The midwife we met with was not very encouraging or optimistic, and pretty much left us feeling as though we had no chance of holding onto our original birthplan. This sent us into an immediate and heart breaking talespin, as it would not only mean the loss of the happy homebirth we've been anticipating, but also a medical induction of labor-possibly very soon. It is difficult for many people to understand how this could be so devistating, as many do not understand the choice for homebirth to begin with and would see it as an opportunity not only to birth in a "safe" environment, but also to meet your baby that much sooner, and after all, what does it all matter so long as the baby and I are healthy in the end?

• Hospital birth is only safer if you need the treatments only they can give. A successful homebirth means that mom and baby were 100% healthy and safe, which can NEVER be said of a hospital birth (just being in a hospital increases your chance of c-section from 10% - 30%).

• Babies need to be in their mommies as long as they choose to be, regardless of what week you are in or how well they will "probably" fair. Making them come sooner is NEVER a good thing, but instead the lesser of two evils.

• It matters. It all matters. Birth trauma is a largely overlooked problem, one that most women never discuss or even acknowledge as a valid issue, and when left unaddressed leads to post-partum depression and/or PTSD, which is later blamed on the woman-her hormones where out of whack, she overtaxed herself, she can't "handle it," etc. Birth memories are embedded in a very deep part of our brains, etched in greater detail than normal memories, lasting our entire lives and affecting us in ways we often do not notice. Yes, we want the baby to be healthy, and yes, this is a source of comfort and happiness--but it does not negate the importance of how WE are, how we have been affected mentally and emotionally by the conditions of our children's births. We would not tell a victim of a mugging or a car accident that they should not be affected by those events because their bodies are physically intact, why do we do it to birthing women?

That's my long way of saying I was VERY upset, and a gently request that no one tell me not to worry, all that matters is a healthy baby, etc. I will worry about myself, the baby, and our birth as I see fit, thank you very much. But we appreciate the concern and support that would prompt such statements, and we love you for that.

With all that said, I had more tests run today which were presented to the consulting OB, and it has been concluded that at this time there is no further need for concern. I will be monitored more closely until the birth, and will keep a BP cuff at home to keep an even closer eye on things, but we have been given the all-clear to return to the planning of our homebirth, with loved ones and our children close at hand. This makes us very, very happy.

36 weeks

We are down to weekly appointments with our midwives now. Crazy. In less than a month we will have another child (well, outside of my body anyway). We had a really productive appt today with Ali (primary midwife) and Abigail (student midwife/naturopathic doc). We discussed gathering supplies for birthing at home, and did a repeat blood draw to see if my iron has risen enough to not be worried about it anymore. I actually remembered to write down all my talking points this time, so we talked A LOT. I brought up my concerns about not having enough face time with the women who may attend the birth, and Ali was very considerate and seemed in total agreement--even stated that the other student midwife would NOT be there, as she has never met me. She also said they would likely not have Sunita, their new third team member, come as the primary as I've only met with her twice. She may be there to assist, but unless something significant prevents it, either Val or Ali will be coming with the student MW Abigail (whom we really like, even though we've only met her twice, too). To many women this may all seem arbitrary, as our society has come to accept strangers in the "delivery room"--we are given no opportunity to meet the nurses who will be caring for us in the labor and delivery departments of hospitals, and often haven't met the doctor on-call (as babies tend to not like being born during business hours). Even if a woman has her own doc, she probably doesn't feel like she has a real relationship with that person, having spent less than an hour or two total with him/her during clinical visits. Midwifery care is very different in that your midwife is very conscientious of the necessity for trust and respect in a birth attendant--a stranger walking into a woman's birthing space, whether she expects it or not, can (and often does) make labor slow way down, or even come to a screeching halt. Many women will rush to the hospital from home feeling like they are in a strong labor pattern only to be told by the stranger that has just put a and inside her body that she isn't really all that progressed and should either go back home or "take a walk for an hour." Had that woman stayed home to begin with, her labor likely would have continued to progress well and been much shorter and easier as a result.
So anyway, I fell better now about my situation with my midwives--I know they are listening to me and understand the importance of respecting my birth space. And I was assured that if someone I did not know well (or at all, as that is a possibility, but not likely) were to attend the birth, that person would not touch me but merely assist the midwife with equipment and paperwork. I've been in situations as a doula where this happened, and the assistants are very good at blending into the corners and being unobtrusive.
We also talked about snakes. Yup, snakes. I don't even recall how it came up, but we ended up telling them about Morgan's new fascination with her imaginary pet snake, Sally, and how I influenced her attitude about snakes (Indiana Jones convinced her they were scary) by telling her how much I liked them and how nice they are as pets. Ali was fascinated by this and wanted to hear all about how my family used to breed a rare species of King snakes when I was younger. Seriously, who can say they've discussed reptile reproduction at a prenatal checkup?
The other fun thing we discovered today (aside from Ali's delight over me saying "horny toad"), is that the baby is trying quite hard to roll face-up (meaning feet and hands towards my naval), which is not a good position to be in. Not only is it uncomfortable for me, but were he/she to stay that way it will make for a longer more painful labor and birth. Suck-o. So I will be spending a lot of time over the coming days/weeks encouraging the little rascal to find a more cozy place to rest, one that won't turn my belly button inside out with every poke of a toe (I never get an "outie" while pg, it just stretches out flat). This will include spending LOTS of time on my hands and knees, as well as some other handy tricks I've picked up along the doula road. I will also call on MY doula should I be unsuccessful alone-she's very experienced with rotating babies. How handy, to have such a person at my disposal. Doulas are awesome, if I do say so myself.

35 weeks

So we appear to be in the home stretch. Do not ask us if we're ready for the baby-we don't like thinking about all we have left to do! In actuality, we are more than ready for the baby. We can lay in bed snuggling a newborn just about anytime. The appropriate questions would look something more like this: Is the house ready for another resident? Are the baby clothes ready? Is the baby's bed ready? Are the baby's DIAPERS ready (kind of an important one)? Is there a car seat/stroller/diaper bag ready? Are the homebirth supplies ready? Is the birth tub ready? Is the "in case of hospital transfer" luggage ready?
But hey, we, personally, ourselves, are more than ready! So bring it on!
Other than the little mini freak outs I'm having over not being able to prepare everything RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND, we're doing OK, actually. We still have tons of work to do upstairs, but are trying not to let it get to us (hear that Troy, WE are TRYING NOT to let it GET TO US) and are mainly concentrating on getting the house organized so that things are easy-peesy-pie when labor starts. That's the only drawback I'm feeling about homebirth right now-if you birth elsewhere, you don't have to worry so much about the house being put together. The yard is an unruly mess, but I'm just going with it-it will get set to rights eventually. I will have Troy hit it with the weed-whacker this weekend, though, just so we can see the kids when they're out there ;). And the kids and I will get all our veggies seeds started, as that's a task I can do sitting down. If I can get Troy to haul in the sack of organic soil we bought two weeks ago-that is NOT a task I can do sitting down.
And while, according to all the info out there (and popular opinion), the baby should by this point be too big to have much room to move, this little booger seems to be a rebel and is attempting to MAKE more room-esp at night as I'm trying to sleep. My lurching belly can actually shift my pillows away from me. I have discovered, though, that putting the headphones to my new Ipod in my pants (right now it's playing Jewel's new Lullaby album) seems to have a settling effect on this otherwise very feisty little being. This is also useful in encouraging a mispositioned or breech baby into a good head-down position (FYI). Feels a little weird to have wires coming out of my waistband, though. I'll post again with some current pictures of me-maybe I'll let Garrett take them. He is very creative with camera angles.

Baby update

At yesterday's midwife visit all was well-my pee tested great (always good to know, right?), I'm 150 lbs (which seems gigantic to me, but they always say my weight gain is "just right"), my uterus measured 34 cm (which is just right), and the baby was head down with a heart rate in the 130's. So all is just as it should be, in other words. The kids were great, Morgan helping with the stethoscope on my belly (she was using the wrong end, but whatever), and we always love seeing Val, whom we have more of a bond with as she was the midwife that attended Morgan's birth. That's something I'm conflicted with this time around-I don't know who I want at the birth (of the three midwives). Not that I choose, the two primary midwives (Val and Ali) rotate being on call evey other week and the third, Sunita, provides backu for them should they have births that overlap. Since we got Val last time, I feel like this time I want Ali-but since we HAVE already experienced birth with Val and forged that bond, I definitely would be thrilled to have her. I think the only thing that would disappoint me might be having Sunita, which make me feel aweful because she's a really neat lady and I like her--but she's new and I have a longer relationship with the other two. All three have worked with our doula (several times, they were very excited that we had hired this particular doula, which makes me feel even better about our choice). I've even toyed with the idea of asking both Val and Ali to come, but they are both so over-stretched right now that wouldn't be very fair to them (maybe they'll decide to do it on their own just because they love me so much!).
Speaking of our doula, she's awesome-very energetic and enthusiatic while also being grounded and calm. She is very experienced without being way older than me, as I didn't want to replace my mother with another-she will feel more like a sister. She's very good at seeing what we need emotionally and guiding us into finding how to get there. I'm so excited to have the experience of birthing with a doula-not just for myself, but for my family members as well. They don't know it yet, but they are going to love having her there.
As an aside, I am sad that my sister has had to abandon the idea of being here for the birth (along with my neice, whom I was really excited to have with me), but there is still a possibility that my father will be able to make it, which will be very special. He is almost a doula himself, having attended the births of all 5 of his children and 2 of his grandchildren--this would be the first time he would be with me for the birth of one of my children. I have to bite my cheek about it though, because if he isn't able to make it he will be staying home to work, which in these dicey times is what is best for he and my mom. Therein lies my only beef with natural childbirth-our loved ones have no way of knowing when to be here, aside from doing what my mom does and coming for several weeks. But then, the anticipation and joy of realizing your baby is finally ready to be born is amazing and I wouldn't trade that for a planned birthday in a million years.

When passing is actually failing.

Watching a person age a deteriorate is heart-rending for me. I don't think any human should suffer the indignity of losing themselves to age, of breaking, hurting, forgetting....becoming separated from the parts of their minds and memories that are their reasons for living in the first place. I am reaching an age where the people I grew up with are entering the end stages of their lives, and I find I have no stomach for it. I feel that they are suffering, losing their pride, being forced to survive merely because the healthier people around them are unable to face letting them go. So it was with relief today that I learned of the death of Clifford, a nearly 90 year old man that has been a part of my family's heart for almost 70 years. He and his wonderful wife, Irene, were my grandparents' dearest friends--they even shared a house while the men attended college, my grandmother worked, and Irene cared for each couples' first babies. They moved from the Midwest to California together, and remained close for the rest of their lives. I don't remember meeting them--they were just always there. That sounds a little odd, as we didn't actually see them very often (they spent many years traveling the world as missionaries, and later moved to Oregon), but true nonetheless--like any family member, they were always there, even when they weren't. My mother grew up playing with their daughters, and when I turned 8 yrs old they would give me a miniature tea set, which became the first in a large collection sitting in my dining room.
A few years ago Cliff and Irene were convinced to move out of their beloved home of forty years (and the strong ties with their church family) in Eugene, OR, to a retirement community in Portland. The convincing was done by two of their daughters who themselves lived in Portland. Shortly after moving (and the mysterious disappearance of many of their valuable items, including Irene's jewelry--their daughters where in charge of the move), their daughters took them out for a "picnic." Instead of taking them to a park, they arrived at a nursing home--one without the Independence, freedom and spacious accommodations they were adjusting to in the retirement community--where they were told "this is where you will live now" and abandoned. They did not have the resources or capability to leave, and were very unhappy in their tiny, stuffy room right next to the Portland Airport. Their health quickly began to deteriorate as a result.
My mother and I have visited them there. Not as often as we wished we could, mainly out of a selfish sense of self preservation--we just couldn't stand seeing them there. But still, when we drove through Portland, we would go. They were always so overjoyed to see us (especially when I brought my babies), and would always tell the staff, "these girls aren't just visitors, they're family." And we would sit with them, patiently listening to the same stories of our youths and of the origin of their relationship with my grandparents. It was almost humorous hearing the little changes their memories made over time. In one anecdote, my mother asked her father for candy in a sweet shop, and when he said, "No, see, the case is locked" she boldly attempted to remove the keys from Cliff's belt loop, certain that was all she needed to free the sweets. The last few times he told that story, I was the little girl snatching his keys.
The last times we left them in that place, we cried in the parking lot. Cried for their circumstances, their growing inabilities, the disrespect and lack of care show these amazing people by those who should love them most. Every time we said we just couldn't do it again, and yet we didn't have the heart not to.
Cliff's heart finally failed. After two days of not speaking, he looked at his beloved wife (even in their convalescence she always insisted on sitting in his lap for pictures) and said, "hey there. I love you." Knowing it was almost over, she climbed into bed with him, holding him until he was gone.
And while our family was so important to him, we were not contacted by his daughters until today. He died three weeks ago. So while I am relieved to see the end of his sadness, I am angry and mournful at being robbed of the opportunity to commemorate his passing for my family. Irene is now alone, and quickly losing her grasp on reality. So while I am glad his torment is ended, I am so sad knowing she is now alone, and knowing he did not want it that way. I am sad because she couldn't remember whether my grandma was still alive, and sad because tomorrow my grandma will have to be reminded that Cliff has died.
This isn't how our elders should be ending their lives. Who are we to rob them of their power, to tell them they must go on....who among us would want to travel a road that has gone far past its destinations, scenic byways, and pit stops? Can we honestly say we would want to keep going, and going, and going, without strength or thought or memory to keep us feeling alive? To exist as a shell of ourselves, but with a tickle of memory reminding us that this is not who we really are?
As a teacher, I think of passing as doing something well. By stretching out the lives o our loved ones to protect ourselves from sadness, we are turning their passing into failing. We are making their end into a twisted unhappiness. I am hoping Irene will soon find peace, that she will not be long left behind without even the comfort of her husband's warmth beside her. I am afraid to visit her, afraid to see the profound sadness in her eyes. She has been tucked into a box, an unwanted nuisance to those who are at the same time fighting to keep her alive. I hope she beats them. I hope she wins, and that her passing is just that--that she is no longer forced to fail.
We love you Cliff.

Running hot and cold.

Literally, hot and cold. The weather (75 on Mon, 45 today), me (hot flash city), Troy's work, yeesh. I like rolley-coasters, but right now some steady would be good.
Troy is once again in flux with his employees, which is why I refer to his work-it will get better, but right now he's dealing with trying to fill empty positions, people out on vacation, and not being able to get his bankers to reach their sales goals (for two reasons, not enough bankers and no help from him because he's busy interviewing bankers). So while this week is lousy, next week ought to be a little better.
As for the weather, I really wish Ma Nature would throw us a bone! We had such a great time Sun-Tues when it was so nice out-I was able to relax on the deck while the kids re-discovered the yard, and we even did a little weed-pulling and pruning. Our Magnolia tree finally bloomed in all its pink and white glory, we were even able to fill up a kiddie pool for a little splashing. Yesterday and today we're back to cold wet icky-yucks, but the kids still want to go out and play in the pool. Common, mom, we did it the other day!! But one way or the other winter will have to finally give up its hold and we'll be able to get back outside--to a yard now overrun with weeds and muck because they keep getting growth spurts from the sporadic warm days but then it's too wet to get them pulled!! At least we won't be lazy!
As for me, I' m plugging along, trying to deal with the unexpected bumps this pregnancy keeps tossing at me. I'll say it again, every pregnancy is different-one should not assume one knows it all just because one has done it before. And even though I know this, I still keep blazing my indigence every time something I've not experienced pops up. At least it keeps me learning. This week the lesson is Anemia: How To Survive the Day With Two Young Children, a House Full of Chores, and No Energy.
Yes, unfortunately my last blood test proved what we'd been anticipating but trying to prevent-I have developed anemia, a condition I've never even come close to in the past and didn't know a lot about. It came as a surprise mainly because I've always been told it makes you tired all the time, which I haven' t been--up until a couple weeks ago I would have said I felt just great, until I identified what was going on (and realized it was getting progressively worse-a few weeks ago I felt much less icky than I do now). I'm not constantly tired, but will, regardless of what I'm doing, suddenly experience a "crash" where I want nothing more than to lie down and sleep. I get light-headed and my thoughts get foggy, I become very short-of-breath and have to stop what I'm doing until it passes-anywhere from 10 min to an hour. Then I feel fine again. Yes, I'm consuming tons of iron, and yes I will continue to increase the amount, but I may not feel a difference for quite some time. We're hoping I will. I'll have another blood test in a month, and depending on how it reads (it will show improvement, I am certain), we will then plan accordingly for any changes that need to be made to our birth plan. The worst we're anticipating is that I'd need a shot of Pitocin (an artificial hormone that will cause my uterus to contract harder) immediately after the baby is born. This is a very effective way to reduce blood loss and help me recover faster. I absolutely hate Pitocin, but if it comes to a choice between that and a monitored hospital birth, I'll certainly choose the Pit. But really this is not a complication that should cause much concern, it is easy to manage in terms of the birth and postpartum, it just sucks right now when there's so much I want to be doing and can't.
The baby is doing great, unbelievably active and never content in any one position. At our last check on Monday the baby had finally found a head-down position (which we need everyone to knock on wood for so it sticks) and Garrett and Morgan got to attack me with stethoscopes in an attempt to hear the baby's real heart sounds, rather than the electronic "woosh" (Morgan proclaimed it a train) of the Doppler. Neither of them heard anything (this may have to do with Morgan putting the scope on my elbow), but they had a ball trying. We just love how involved the midwives make them feel, even if their exuberance sometimes prolongs our appointments!
The upstairs project is coming along (hot on the weekends, cold otherwise), Troy has the drywall well underway and we're still optimistic it'll be done and ready for its new inhabitants by the time the baby comes. At least, I hope so--Troy might refuse to let me give birth otherwise!!
So while there is much flux and some challenges, we're making progress towards great, exciting things. Life is good.