Venturing out of the Baby Cave

Tommy, Lily, and I have made a couple of successful trips to our neighborhood park, just the three of us. It feels good to be able to get both of my kids to and from the park without losing anyone.  I am so proud of Tommy for learning to ride his bike so well.  He can even handle himself pretty well going up and down hills.

Also, Tommy and I have started working out with Bob Harper.  Ben got me a couple of workout DVDs for Christmas since I won't be able to take Lily to the gym for a couple more months.  I'm grateful to be able to do some exercise already.  I've definitely got a lot of work to do to get back into shape!  It makes me feel good emotionally and physically to exercise and sweat a little bit.  Tommy loves to lift weights and stretch right along with me:)

Tommy and Lily

Here is a video I made of cute moments between Tommy and Lily.  I don't know how Lily feels, but I know that Tommy absolutely adores his little sister.  His first question every morning is, "Where is baby Lily?"  He watches her closely and keeps me updated on how many eyes she has open.  He gets so excited when she has two eyes open and proudly exclaims, "Mom, both her eyes are open!"  He loves to play with her, tickle her, talk to her, ask her questions, and give her toys.  I am so grateful that Tommy is intuitively gentle and kind to Lily.  Let's hope that continues throughout his life:)

What Does Daddy Do?

Today I took the kids to the park where we met a 12-year-old neighbor boy.  He talked to us the entire time we were there and told us about how he skateboards, roller blades, bikes, and so on.  Tommy was absolutely enthralled with this boy.

Well, in an effort to make the conversation more two-sided the boy asked me if my husband skateboards.  Trying to stifle my laughter without making it obvious (any of you who know Ben should chuckle at the idea of him being a skateboarder) I politely told him no, my husband doesn't do anything like that.  Then, trying to include Tommy in the conversation, I said, "Tommy, tell our friend what Daddy likes to do."

Tommy thought about it for a minute.  I assumed he would either say something about how his daddy works on the computer or that he would just make something up.  What did he come up with?

He turned to the boy and said matter-of-factly, "My daddy likes to open the fridge to see what's for dinner."

And there you have it, folks.  Ben in a nutshell.

Down With Wax!

I like things that smell good.  And poop doesn't smell good.  With a newborn around and a toddler who insists on pooping in his nighttime Pull-Up rather than in the toilet, sometimes our house smells like poop all day.  Not good.

This got me thinking about why, if I love good-smelling things, I hate scented candles.  I hate them.  With a passion.

I think it's because when I smell a certain scent I am more excited about what that scent means than the actual scent.  I love when my house smells like bleach because that means it is clean.  I love the smell of homemade bread because that means I get to eat yummy bread soon.  I love the smell of fresh flowers because that means I get to enjoy the beauty of fresh flowers in my kitchen.  A scented candle is just so fake.  Don't you find it disappointing when you walk into someone's house and it smells like sugar cookies, but there are no actual sugar cookies to be found?  Just that darn candle burning away in the corner.  Makes me want to throw it out the window and go on a sugar-cookie-eating binge.

I thought it was time I expressed my rage against Yankee, Salt City, and Scentsy.  RAGE!

You can be assured that if you come visit my home the scents will be authentic.  I like to clean the counters with lavender scented Pine-sol.  Sometimes I don't rinse out the rag I used just so the scent lingers a little longer.  I like to bake bread and other high calorie, delicious-smelling treats.  I love to vacuum and breathe in that freshly-vacuumed-carpet smell.  And if you come over and our house smells like poop, then you know I'm just a mom of two who refuses to use a cheap candle to cover it up.

Lily's Birth Story, Part III: Postpartum Exultation

To read Part I, go here.  To read Part II, go here.

They say it takes a village to raise a child.  I have learned over the last three weeks what that really means, at least to me right now.  It's less that it takes everyone in the village to be involved in that child's life and more that it takes the village to support the mother so that she can effectively care for and teach her child.  I have had a village helping me these last three weeks as I have stepped into my new role as Mother of Two.

I have been extremely blessed to have really great pregnancies.  I feel healthy and strong throughout the pregnancy, enough so that I was frequenting the gym up until the week before Lily was born.  However, I have had two really hard deliveries that have made the postpartum period the most difficult "trimester" of my birth year.  However, this time around has actually been a time of intense joy and deep gratitude, rather than the rocky and emotionally unstable postpartum months I experienced after I had Tommy.  I attribute this joy primarily to the amazing people who have supported me and family during this time.

First, thanks my birthing team and the extraordinary network of midwives and doulas out there who give such meaningful and selfless service.  This is a group of women who greet strangers and friends alike with a warm hug.  Not only did my midwife stay the entire night after Lily was born, but she also came back Christmas night with three others to stitch up my tear, help me shower, and make sure we were generally doing well.  Kristy even did another batch of laundry while they were here that night.  We all chatted and joked and laughed.  It was really fun to see them all again.  Karen and Kristy came back four days later to check on me and Lily again.  I have received several Facebook messages from them asking how things are going.  I have not only felt well-cared for, I have also felt loved by these women.

A few days after Lily was born I started to feel some of the Baby Blues creep in.  I started to feel overwhelmed and hopeless and anxious.  I cried as I told Ben, and as I was doing so, my postpartum doula called.  Her name is Erin.  She asked if she could come over the next day to help out for four hours.  I was overwhelmed with her timing and with the hope that things were going to get better.  I was crying so much I had to hand the phone to Ben so he could tell her when to come.  She did come the next day and completely lightened my load.  We talked for a little while and she was able to listen and empathize with my feelings.  Then she got to work.  Our house was a disaster by this point.  We had piles of dirty laundry, stacks of dirty dishes, and stuff just everywhere.  Between the Christmas mess and having a baby and Ben being sick, the house really suffered.  But in just a few short hours Erin completely cleaned the whole downstairs, allowed me some one-on-one time with Tommy, showed me some stretches that would help me feel a little better after being confined in bed, made us lunch, and showed me some nursing techniques that would help me nurse and sleep at the same time so I wasn't so sleep-deprived.  She not only gave me hope that we would survive, she also made me feel loved and empowered.

Erin came back a couple weeks after Lily's birth and worked her magic again.  She cleaned and organized Lily's room, cleaned up the downstairs, did my grocery shopping, made dinner, and chatted about how the transition was going.  I highly recommend that every new mother get a postpartum doula to come a few times to help out, no matter how or where they give birth.  Having that extra helping hand made a huge difference to me.

I will do a homebirth as long as it means I can have such excellent postpartum care from such nurturing women.

Next, thank you to our friends who have helped with caring for Tommy and bringing in meals.  We had one family take Tommy the day after Lily was born.  Remember, that was Christmas day.  They were happy to take him and include him in their family party.  It meant so much to me.  We had another family that took him all day the next day, too.  Ben had been up Christmas night with a fever and chills, I still couldn't get up out of bed on my own, and we really wondered how we were going to care for Tommy, Lily, and ourselves under the circumstances.  Luckily we didn't have to worry about Tommy as our kind friends entertained him all day.  We have amazing friends who have brought in meals and have taken Tommy to the zoo and to the park so that I could get some extra rest.  It is very humbling to be the recipient of such thoughtful service.

Thank you also to all those who have sent us gifts for Lily.  I love to see her swaddled in a blanket that another loving mother made for her.  I love to dress her in clothes and put bows on her head that I know others thoughtfully bought for her.  We appreciate the generosity and thoughtfulness of our friends, neighbors, and family.  Thank you to those as well who have emailed, blogged, texted, or Facebooked congratulations and well wishes to our family.  It energizes me to read the positive comments of others.  So thank you.

Next, a gigantic thank you to my mom who spent a week with us after Lily was born.  We put her primarily on Tommy duty.  She took him to the park every day she was here, took him to McDonald's, and played with him at home.  She helped with shopping and cooking and cleaning.  It was so nice to have someone else here so that I could get some extra rest when Lily was sleeping.  We love you, Mom, and miss you so much.  Tommy especially misses his best buddy.

I especially want to thank my husband for everything he has done for me, but he is going to get his very own post:)

The transition from having one child to having two has been much smoother than I expected it to be, thanks in large part to the village that has rallied to help us raise our children.  It also helps that Lily is such a calm and chill baby.  She eats well and sleeps well and doesn't poop very much.  I couldn't ask for anything more than that.

Lily's Birth Story, Part II: Sunny-Side Up

To read Part I go here.

My water hadn't broken yet and I didn't have the urge to push, which was a little worrisome.  I had this feeling from the beginning that my baby was going to be born posterior (face-up), and I was right.  I endured a lot of back labor, which I guess is more painful than regular labor (I wouldn't know since neither of my babies was positioned correctly).  Karen debated about whether or not to break my water.  She said that breaking the water would probably speed things along and it might give my body the urge to push.  If she didn't break the water there is no telling how long I would have to endure more back labor before the baby turned and I had the urge to push (if the baby turned at all by herself).  I told her to go ahead and break my water so that things would move more quickly.  She did, but I still didn't have the urge to push.  I went ahead and pushed anyway since it felt better than just breathing through contraction after contraction.  That went on for a solid 2 1/2 hours.

I tried pushing everywhere.  I pushed in the tub, on the toilet, squatting by the bed, on my hands and knees, on my exercise ball, and sitting in the bed.  Karen told me to push in the position where I felt I could get behind the contraction the best, which turned out to be on the bed.  Ben held me up from the back while my birth team supported my legs.  It was really hard work.  I was sweaty and I screamed like a banshee.  After each contraction I tried to lie back and work the cramps out from my legs before the next contraction came on.  I did a fair amount of crying and asking if they thought I could really do this.  They kept telling me that she was coming, they could feel her head, I was almost crowning.  I often needed reassurance that she was actually making progress.  Sometimes it felt like she was going backward rather than outward, but my team kept encouraging me and telling me that I was doing a good job.  I was so exhausted that I really wasn't sure I could keep pushing.  There was no other option, though, so I just tried to take it one contraction and one push at a time.

At one point Karen was able to manually turn the baby's head a little bit.  I had a couple of contractions where I felt the urge to push after that.  They felt completely different from the other contractions I was forcing myself to push through.  I pushed with all my might and made some good progress before the baby's head turned the wrong way again and the pushing urge went away.

The pushing phase really is a blur now.  All I remember is being exhausted and feeling like it was never going to end.  I also remember feeling like I was going to push my entire colon right out of my body.  The one downside of not having an epidural is that you can really feel the damage you are doing to your body by pushing.  I suppose it's different if the baby is positioned correctly and slides right out, but for me, it was very disconcerting to feel like my insides were literally going to burst out my bottom.  But, I knew they weren't, so I just kept pushing as hard as I could:)  The lower the baby's head descended, the more it hurt, but I knew the only way to stop that pain was to push her out.  So I just kept on pushin'.

After nearly 2 1/2 hours her head finally crowned.  I guess that was supposed to be really painful, but I was so relieved that she was almost out that I don't remember it being so.  It burned a lot as I pushed her head out, but the pain wasn't nearly as bad as I expected it to be.  I was just so happy to know that I was almost done.  When her head came out my birth team told me to open my eyes and touch my baby.  I heard Ben exclaim something like, "Oh my gosh, there she is!"  One more push and her shoulders cleared, another push and out came her body.  Words can't describe the relief and joy I felt as I held that baby I had worked so hard to get out.  She snuggled up against my chest and cried, strong and healthy.  I stroked her head and told her how happy I was that she was finally here.

Lily was born at 9:27 pm Christmas Eve.  I wrote a post about her name and her statistics here.  She was born posterior, or face-up.  Even though it was so hard to get her out I am so grateful I did it at home.

The moments just following Lily's birth are still fuzzy.  I held her for a little while and then I handed her to Ben, who cut the cord.  I nursed her right after that.  She was such a pro.  She latched on and sucked the first time I tried.  She was alert and awake for a little while after that.

This is where things get really fuzzy and kind of scary.  After I delivered the placenta I guess I lost a fair amount of blood.  My birth team told me it wasn't a ton, but because my blood pressure is low anyway, it was enough of a loss to give us all a scare.  My blood pressure plummeted and the next thing I knew everyone was rushing around trying to get me stable again.  They elevated my feet, lowered my head, gave me a shot of pitocin to stop the bleeding, and forced fluids down me until I couldn't drink anymore.  The room started to spin and got fuzzy and I was unable to speak for a few minutes.  I could hear them call the readings on my blood pressure and knew the situation was bad when it got so low they couldn't read it anymore.  That probably only lasted for a minute or two before I started to stabilize, but it was scary.  They told me later that they came within a minute or two of calling 911.

Ben gave me a Priesthood blessing and promised that I would return to full health and strength quickly.  And I did.  I couldn't sit up without getting woozy for a few hours, but as long as I laid down, I was fine.  The same thing happened after I had Tommy.  The next time I have a baby I'm going to be sure to eat and drink during labor.  I drank water during this labor, but I didn't feel like eating and I didn't really think about it.  My body was so depleted after all the laboring and delivering that it's no wonder it kind of shut down for a little bit.

I have no concept of time after that happened.  I think it was about two hours after the baby was born that they tried to stand me up so I could use the bathroom.  I did okay sitting up, but I blacked out once I tried to stand.  It's such a weird feeling waking up lying in bed with everyone asking if I am okay without any idea how I got there or what happened.  We tried a few more times without success so Karen ran home to get a catheter.  While she was gone I nursed Lily and Ben rocked her a lot in the glider we have in our room.  Kam and Kristy were so sweet to clean up our home downstairs where we had left a mess of toys.  They also did some laundry, cooked our Christmas pizza, and served it to us in our bedroom.  It tasted so good:)  They also cooked up a mixture of herbs and froze them in little packets so I could ice my bottom.  They were amazing.

At some point they changed the sheet I was lying on.  It was kind of funny because I was okay as long as I laid down, but I couldn't sit up or stand without getting dizzy, so changing the sheet was a challenge.  Ben made me a peanut butter sandwich, which I ate while the midwives pulled me around the bed on the old sheet while they tried to clean up and roll out a new sheet.  I couldn't get up to shower either, so they helped me get cleaned up a little while I laid on the bed.  I made lots of jokes and tried to make the situation funny since I kind of felt awkward being so helpless like that.  They knew I was feeling much better once my sense of humor came back:)

Karen came back and told the other two that they could go home to their families.  It was maybe 2:00 am or so by this time.  Kam and Kristy left and Karen stayed in our home for the rest of the night.  She insisted that Ben come get her when I needed to use the restroom so that she could help me get up and down.  During the night I blacked out one more time, but by morning I was able to get up with just Ben's hand to hold.  Karen stayed until about 7:00 am Christmas morning.  You don't get more dedicated than that.  I appreciate that she stayed until she was sure I was really okay.

I know this portion of the story may scare some people away from homebirth, but I feel that it is important to include to prove how capable midwives are (especially how amazing my midwives are).  It's important to realize that you can have a safe homebirth even if things aren't perfectly ideal and complications arise.  I was going to have a posterior baby and lose some blood wherever I gave birth.  Karen was equipped with basically everything she would need for an emergency situation.  She had oxygen, pitocin, a catheter, and she knew exactly how to respond when my blood pressure dropped.  She had all the equipment and knowledge that nurses have in the hospital.  And if the situation had become any more critical, 911 was just a phone call away and I'm sure paramedics would have been here within a few minutes.  Yes, of course, it was a scary situation, but it would have been scary no matter where we were.  I will be forever grateful that my birth team was so well prepared to handle the situation.  And I'm so grateful that they cared about me personally enough to stay the night until it was clear that we were out of the woods for good.

I sustained a second-degree tear, so everyone came back Christmas night to stitch me up.  Yes, midwives can stitch, and yes, they had spray-on lidocaine that ensured I didn't feel a thing.  There were four women who came that night.  Karen and Kristy helped me shower and prepared a sitz bath for me while another midwife, Shell, and her student, Danielle, came to stitch me up.  Of course it wasn't the most fun thing to go through, but I actually had fun chatting with the four of them.  I have never felt so cared for and nurtured by a medical professional.

Part III:  Postpartum Exultation to come soon!

Lily's Birth Story, Part I: The Christmas Pizza

I don't really know how to start this post.  Ever since Lily's birth people have asked me, "So, how did it go?"  I appreciate the question, but honestly I don't know how to answer.  I usually say something like, "It went well, we had the baby, we are both healthy, it hurt..."  I don't know how much detail you want, so I'm just going to tell you the details that I like about the story.

As most of you know, we were planning for a homebirth, and that homebirth happened.  Would I do a homebirth again in the future?  Absolutely.  But not for the same reasons I chose to have a homebirth this time.  Here is the post I wrote about my original decision to have a homebirth.

We had an appointment with Karen, our midwife, on Friday, December 23rd.  She asked if I wanted to have an exam to see if I was dilated at all.  I had had several days of cramp-like contractions spread out over the past couple of weeks, but I declined the exam.  I basically didn't want to know if I was dilated because I didn't want to get my hopes up that things would be happening soon.  I just wanted to trust my body and let things happen as they would without getting worked up about it.

On Saturday, the 24th, I woke up with cramping again.  It wasn't too bad and I knew from the other days that it would get worse before it got better and tapered off in the afternoon.  I had several things I needed to do to get ready for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so I got to work early before the cramps got any worse.  That morning Ben and I made fattigman, a really time-intensive Norwegian cookie that my family makes for Christmas.  After setting off the smoke alarm several times we finally got the hang of it and made a pretty decent batch.  Part of me thought that maybe if I called down the help of my Norwegian ancestors we would have the baby soon.

That morning I also made cookies and a pumpkin pie.  I worked quickly, knowing that if I didn't get the kitchen cleaned up early I may not get to it at all.  I'm glad I listened to those instincts!

By late morning I was having some discomfort, but it wasn't any worse than it had been on previous days.  I kept working.  Then at about 11:30 I had a real contraction that made me stop and lean over the counter for a minute to breathe.  That hadn't happened before, but I didn't want to get my hopes up that I was actually in labor, so I kept cleaning.  I laid down and watched a movie with Tommy and the contractions started coming about every 12 minutes.  Still thinking this was probably just false labor, I mentioned it casually to Ben, who also figured it was probably not real labor yet.  I had probably just overdone it in the morning and needed to rest for a little bit.

By about 2:30 I decided that I should probably lie down and try to get some sleep.  If this was real labor, I knew I needed to be rested for the long night ahead.  If it was false labor I knew a nap would probably make it go away.  Either way, I was tired and needed to lie down.  I tried to sleep for about an hour, but woke up every 8 minutes with contractions.  They still weren't too bad.  I just laid in bed and breathed with excitement and anticipation.

At about 3:30 I got up and showered, thinking the hot water would feel good.  It did, and by the time I got out of the shower I was pretty convinced this baby was coming that night or early Christmas morning.  I had labored for 15 hours with Tommy so I figured I was in it for the long haul with this one as well.  Contractions were still about 8 minutes apart.

We have a tradition in our family called The Christmas Pizza.  It's an artifact from Ben's family when they lived in Brazil.  It's just what it sounds like.  Every Christmas Eve we buy a big pizza from Papa Murphy's and cook it on Christmas.  That way we don't have to cook a big fancy meal on Christmas Day.  We can just stay in our pj's all day, stuff ourselves silly with pizza, nap, play with toys, and just hang out.  It's a great tradition.

I still really wanted to get that darn pizza.  "Leave me!  Save yourselves!  Get the pizza!"  I insisted that Ben go get the pizza and that he take Tommy so that I could have some peace and quiet before really heavy labor set in.  Ben didn't want to leave me, and neither did Tommy.  I kept insisting that he go, that I would be fine.  I figured I still had several hours ahead of me.  Looking back, it's so funny that the pizza meant so much to me.  I think I knew this Christmas was going to be unique and I wanted to hang on to as much normalcy and tradition as possible.  It was completely irrational, but at the time I thought, "If we don't get the pizza, what are we going to eat tomorrow?"  Never mind that we have at least 3 months of food stockpiled in our home, not counting the 40 freezer meals I had prepared a few months ago in preparation for the baby.

In the end, it was kind of stressful.  Ben couldn't find his phone and refused to leave without it.  I wouldn't go with them because I didn't want to labor in public, especially as the contractions got worse.  Tommy was exhausted and threw a huge tantrum about going to the store with Daddy.  So as Ben combed our entire home for his phone I held  Tommy on the couch and watched the clock as contractions came every 5 minutes.  Tommy fell asleep in my arms after he cried for a good 10 minutes or so.  I was happy to have the chance to snuggle my little boy before he was no longer my baby.  It wasn't all that comfortable to have contractions sitting with a 40 pound toddler on my lap, but every time a contraction came I buried my face in his curly blonde hair and tried to be grateful for the moment I had to comfort one child while my body worked to bring my next child into the world.

Ben finally found his phone and hesitantly left to fulfill my wishes for a Christmas pizza.  It was nearly 5:00 by this point.  He was gone for 25 minutes tops, and in that time all I could do was go upstairs, get my water bottle, and fill it up in the kitchen.  Shortly after he left contractions jumped from 5 minutes apart to 2 minutes apart.  I dropped to my hands and knees with each one, tried to breathe deeply, and wondered how I was going to give birth without an epidural.  I thought if they were this bad already I wasn't sure I could endure it for another 10-12 hours.

Ben got home at about 5:15.  I had just called my mom to tell her I was in labor.  I told Ben the contractions were coming every 2-3 minutes.  They had only been coming that close together for about 20 minutes, I hadn't seen any blood, and my water hadn't broken, so I figured I was probably still pretty far off from actually having the baby.  I felt a little hesitant about calling Karen given all of those factors, but we called anyway.  Bless her heart, she left a family party to come deliver my baby.  She got to our home at about 6:15, along with her students, Kristy and Kam.

By the time they came I was in the tub.  It was amazing how much the warm water initially helped to relax my body and decrease the pain.  By the time my birth team arrived the contractions were one after the other. There was no relief.  I had a towel on the side of the tub that I buried my face in when the pain got really bad.  They all commented on how they were happy to see me with a smile still on my face.  That smile didn't last for long:)

Tommy was a real trooper during all of this.  After we called Karen, but before I got in the bathtub we let him open up one Christmas present, which I chose for him.  It was the movie Cars 2 and he was more than happy to sit at the computer in our bedroom and watch his new movie while Ben helped me labor in the bathtub.

Ben was an angel through all of this.  Besides indulging my desire for him to go get the pizza, he successfully corralled Tommy around and was there for me as I labored.  At one point before my birth team arrived I was sitting in the tub on the verge of tears telling him I didn't know if I could do this.  He looked into my eyes and gave me the most romantic pep talk in history, telling me that I was strong, that I could do this, that all I needed to do was picture the end result of having our little girl in my arms in a few short hours.  He made me cry, which made the contractions more painful, so I told him to stop being so sensitive and wonderful.  He is an amazing man.

Once my birth team was at our home we decided to do an exam to see how far along I was.  As you can imagine, I was kind of dreading this.  I was so afraid that she would say I was dilated to a 4 and that I would have 10 more hours of hard labor to go.  I still hadn't seen a drop of blood and my water hadn't broken even though contractions were basically coming one on top of the other.  They helped me onto my bed, checked me and the baby, and declared to the shock of everyone present, "Crystal, you are fully dilated!  You're a 10!"  None of us could believe that I had dilated that quickly and that I had done all of it with only Ben around to help.  My first labor pain was at around 11:30, contractions got regular and painful around 4:30, and by 6:30 I was fully dilated and ready to push.  Little did I know that the hardest part was yet to come.

Stay tuned for Part II!