tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49056574591542403552024-02-20T09:14:28.160-08:00Refuse to be a Womb Pod"But now and then, you can make people care, make people notice that something ain't quite right, and nudge them gently, with the words, to get off their ass and fix it." ~Rick BraggBeckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.comBlogger151125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-25915738272803387982011-09-29T19:34:00.000-07:002011-09-29T19:39:24.643-07:00Birth photos, 2 years delyaed<div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I JUST got the photos my sister took with her cell phone. Remember, I thought I'd be going home. I had no idea I was 7cm, so I didn't bring my camera! I wanted to share with you my two favorite photos. Enjoy!</div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmHX1hyO2E-vmPMObOewi2-DoaW9KKuvSlKKDdw_6wp4vR19vrxp6yNhqsKAXGqHAFLb71MTQ4CBVQMAgYAgRpdt-Je8niBd3kJoHSwtiI129mT0mLKer9L_NK6C_jFbhkaIHONHhBN7K/s1600/Annabirth24.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657976595085674946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJmHX1hyO2E-vmPMObOewi2-DoaW9KKuvSlKKDdw_6wp4vR19vrxp6yNhqsKAXGqHAFLb71MTQ4CBVQMAgYAgRpdt-Je8niBd3kJoHSwtiI129mT0mLKer9L_NK6C_jFbhkaIHONHhBN7K/s320/Annabirth24.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidjhmA62qnu93lFaT9fOLfd9rMVbtNBWgsHs6OtiiUSNc8uzcRWVm2X-9K65-rvLwURdlerpDtcawL44BxObu7HNkh_PqQP3isYrvbjruxoWdeZfsr4XNuYtVTXxxEbp3EiAMupkbsmWcR/s1600/Annabirth7.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 144px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657976440989422530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidjhmA62qnu93lFaT9fOLfd9rMVbtNBWgsHs6OtiiUSNc8uzcRWVm2X-9K65-rvLwURdlerpDtcawL44BxObu7HNkh_PqQP3isYrvbjruxoWdeZfsr4XNuYtVTXxxEbp3EiAMupkbsmWcR/s320/Annabirth7.jpg" /></a></div></div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-41440009212597903422011-07-01T19:47:00.000-07:002011-07-01T20:17:32.840-07:00Why can't I just stay here?Last night as I lay in bed I was seized by a fit of anger and panic. If I'm pregnant, where will I give birth? Last pregnancy I moved back down to Pensacola for 4 months, gave birth with my midwife, and traveled back to Georgia when Anna was 6 weeks old. It was <em>so</em> hard! I hated being away from my husband and caring for two children, alone, while suffering from HG and just generally being pregnant was stressful.<br /><br />This time, however, Sarah will be in school. I can't just pull her out of school for a month. I could go down with the younger two and leave Sarah up here with my husband, but that would mean he wouldn't be there for the birth. Yes, I could call him when I went into labor and he could attempt to make it down, but it's a 4 hour drive if he left immediately upon receiving my call, and last time I didn't even know I was in labor until I was 7cm, and Anna was born an hour later.<br /><br />I don't see <em>why, why, why</em> I can't just stay here in Georgia, see a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">CNM</span>, go to the hospital to give birth and just be left alone. Yes, I'm aware of "Dr. Wonderful" in Atlanta, but that's still an hour and a half drive (<em>if</em> it's not rush hour) that I'd have to make each month, and <em>in labor.</em> I'll remind you again, last time I didn't know I was in labor until an hour before baby was born! If I could write the headline to that news story it would read<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>Woman Gives Birth on Side of Road When Local Doctors Refuse <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBAC</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><br /><div align="left">My first line of defense will be to make an appointment with the local <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">CNM</span> group and beg them (I'm not above it) to attend a birth with me. My cesarean will have been over 7 years prior, with two uncomplicated <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBACs</span> in the meantime. I'll ask them to meet with the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">OBs</span> in the group, comb over my records, speak with my previous care providers (the ones still living), <em>anything</em>. They might change their minds. Too bad "letters of recommendation" don't help in these sorts of situations. I know my midwife would write a glowing letter for me! My concern here though is that even if they capitulate, they'll place a heavy burden of demands on my pregnancy and labor, demands I won't likely meet. My babies come 1-2 weeks after their due dates, I lose an extreme amount of weight during pregnancy, I always measure small and either have tiny babies or 8lb babies. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">So I don't know what I'm going to do. Even if I decided to birth with Dr. Wonderful in Atlanta, I'd <em>have</em> to have a care provider here too because I'd need to be seen frequently to keep up with the HG. </div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"><em>This</em> is what women fail to think of when signing up for that very first cesarean. </div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-15393227713266088402011-06-27T06:36:00.001-07:002011-06-27T06:37:55.871-07:00Just sayin'...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsWNRDZMMEXgh881mytdlvaXQGM4VCxAOlcQep7t78sfUXt8gH0kMiSY6gxIPLQmlNidrk-j8KlSysoVugus5siF75KPYVigAtFD36CijfT_C9jfkEW8GK9dC0K_jXaP9a6B63uiLGOj4/s1600/day+40.bmp"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 116px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622893071310649682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipsWNRDZMMEXgh881mytdlvaXQGM4VCxAOlcQep7t78sfUXt8gH0kMiSY6gxIPLQmlNidrk-j8KlSysoVugus5siF75KPYVigAtFD36CijfT_C9jfkEW8GK9dC0K_jXaP9a6B63uiLGOj4/s320/day+40.bmp" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Since my last period. </div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-11396730953723822142011-04-22T07:09:00.000-07:002011-04-22T07:23:54.544-07:00My 30th Birthday<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Vxt8KhJ2rV91V0IzMUi4YIcgxP8BTBqoN2J6RiH1yWJXgP7zvRXQakBxHdakrNxf-RfzJX3rZ_DWmbPSpav3xQtELHvsryR8JRq5UomWaPzsykxvdM_mIzGu76Zuu4ULw3Bj8HfcIoo/s1600/look-whos-30-birthday-badge-large.jpeg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 250px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Vxt8KhJ2rV91V0IzMUi4YIcgxP8BTBqoN2J6RiH1yWJXgP7zvRXQakBxHdakrNxf-RfzJX3rZ_DWmbPSpav3xQtELHvsryR8JRq5UomWaPzsykxvdM_mIzGu76Zuu4ULw3Bj8HfcIoo/s1600/look-whos-30-birthday-badge-large.jpeg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Happy Birthday to me, right? I'm not much in a celebrating mood. Having a miscarriage the week of your birthday? Not fun. My last miscarriage (2007) was the week of Mother's Day. Someone is seriously messing with me. I conceived this baby on April Fool's Day and lost him just a few weeks later. His due date would have been Christmas Eve, so I'm sure I'll think about him again then and feel sad all over again.<br /><br />On a positive note, I believe my miscarriage is now "complete". I'm still getting negative tests and the bleeding has stopped. No signs of infection and no more pain. At least I was able to miscarry in relative peace with no medical intervention required. I'm thankful for the three beautiful children the Lord has blessed me with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">earthside</span>, and now I have TWO children who will only ever know Heaven as their home. As parents, don't we want the best for our children? You can't get better than that! The bible says that we will be known in Heaven as we were known on Earth, so I "name" the babies I lose. My first was Mac and this one is Jacob. I've always thought of my miscarried babies at boys because I read somewhere that male embryos/fetuses were more likely to be miscarried than females. Hopefully there aren't two sweet girls running around Heaven being called Mac and Jacob! </div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-41100152424920137162011-04-19T14:01:00.000-07:002011-04-19T14:27:03.394-07:00Miscarriage?<a href="http://photos2.fotosearch.com/bthumb/UNC/UNC183/u11975204.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 155px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://photos2.fotosearch.com/bthumb/UNC/UNC183/u11975204.jpg" /></a> I think I'm having a miscarriage. I got what I thought was my period yesterday, but I've been curled up in pain most of the time since then. Very heavy, lots of "tissue". Similar to the time I had a confirmed miscarriage. But I never got a positive test.<br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Miscarriages are <em>awful</em>. Aside from the very real emotional effects, the physical experience is painful and lonely. It's like a very long, sadly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">un</span>-supported labor that doesn't have a happy ending. </div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-25348496211815386422011-04-17T10:50:00.000-07:002011-04-17T11:02:16.436-07:00Don't Think I AmI tested first thing this morning, 13-15 days after I believe I ovulated. It was negative. Still no period. So more waiting, I guess.Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-79214181008970288352011-04-15T13:55:00.001-07:002011-04-15T14:11:07.186-07:00Nothing Yet<a href="http://www.justcalendar.org/calendar/December-2011-Calendar-3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 327px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.justcalendar.org/calendar/December-2011-Calendar-3.jpg" /></a> I still don't know anything. Another negative test today, day 46. I'm out of tests, so I won't be testing again until Sunday morning. <br /><div></div><br /><div>Something I've been thinking about in regards to dating this (might be) pregnancy is what to tell a care provider. Here's what I mean: my LMP is March 1st, but I know that if I got pregnant, it was between April 1-3. Here are the "due dates" for each:</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><blockquote>LMP March 1st: EDD December 8, 2011 (with a cycle length of approx 30 days) Probable conception date April 2: EDD December 24, 2011 </blockquote></div><br /><div>So you see my situation? I don't think I could<em> possibly</em> convince a care provider to put down the December 24 EDD when my LMP was March 1st. It would be bad enough by itself, but add that to the fact that providers want VBAC mothers to give birth on or before their due dates, and also my history of giving birth 1-2 weeks after my EDD, and there's a <em>big</em> problem. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Say, for example, my baby would have come 1 week after the EDD of December 24. That would be December 31st. The care provider wants me to have my baby by the December 8 EDD, so if I consented (no!) to a RCS (no induction for VBAC moms), that would make my baby 3 weeks, 2 days early. Not good. And I don't suppose any care provider would be comfortable with me going (in their eyes) 3 weeks, 2 days past my "due date" either, would they? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So should I make up an LMP that fits better with when I know baby was conceived? I don't want an early vaginal ultrasound just for dating purposes. <strong><em>I </em></strong>know the small window in which baby was conceived, and I know that December 8th would be nowhere <em>near</em> when to expect him. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><em>sigh...</em></div><br /><p></p><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><blockquote><br /><p></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-25797823052027861002011-04-14T06:32:00.000-07:002011-04-14T06:45:09.213-07:00Cycle Day 45<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6e/US_45.svg/600px-US_45.svg.png"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 190px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6e/US_45.svg/600px-US_45.svg.png" /></a> In my life, cycle day 45 has always held very special significance. My cycles are not always regular, but the one thing I can always count on is that I never have a cycle that lasts more than 45 days. <em>Today is cycle day 45.</em> <br /><div></div><br /><div>So guess what I'm doing today? Buying pregnancy tests! Again. You know how it is when you're wondering if you're pregnant, always wondering if every twinge is "something". So it's hard for me to say if I "feel" pregnant yet. So I guess I'm going to keep testing until I get a positive or a period! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>In other related news:</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>As I was eating my grits this morning I looked down at the bowl and wondered if it would be my last bowl of grits for 9 months. Wondered when food would morph from friend to foe. When my body would begin the process of purging food. Of balking at water. When that black box of HG would overcome me. </div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-61190780522836694262011-04-13T11:53:00.000-07:002011-04-13T12:11:05.591-07:00Goodbye, 20s!<a href="http://rlv.zcache.com/i_love_20s_products_designs_postcard-p239407031834509540trdg_400.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 239px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://rlv.zcache.com/i_love_20s_products_designs_postcard-p239407031834509540trdg_400.jpg" /></a> I have to say, this isn't exactly the way I envisioned spending the last days of my 20s. My birthday is a week from Friday (Earth Day) and my thoughts have been dominated with questions about my pregnancy status and how that would change our family. My greatest hope is that I would be pregnant with a boy, not because I value boys over girls, but because my HG was so much easier to handle when I was pregnant with a boy! I do adore little boys though. My son is the biggest sweetheart you'll ever meet. He asked me the other day (with <em>tears</em> in his eyes) why God hadn't yet given him a baby brother. So, Caleb and I want another boy baby. <br /><div></div><br /><div>A few things to report:</div><br /><div></div><br /><ul><br /><li>In the last week I've had two mornings where my stomach felt very sour until I'd eaten.</li><br /><li>This morning I woke two hours before I normally do (I started waking up really early, very early on in my previous three pregnancies)</li><br /><li>Today is day 44 of a cycle that has never, ever gone beyond 45 days.</li></ul><br /><div></div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-59167662098169822482011-04-11T08:55:00.000-07:002011-04-11T09:02:14.377-07:00Still Nothing<a href="http://consultingbyrpm.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/Sorry-Board-Game.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 365px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://consultingbyrpm.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/Sorry-Board-Game.jpg" /></a> By nothing I mean, literally, <em>nothing</em>. No period, a second (what I'm going to call) negative pregnancy test this morning. My first three cycles since they resumed were 28 days, 31 days and 30 days long. Today is day 43 of my fourth postpartum cycle. Sorry, but that's all I have to report today! Believe me, I'm even more frustrated than any of you may be!Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-5816125029203957162011-04-07T07:04:00.000-07:002011-04-07T07:15:26.405-07:00Still No Cause for Alarm<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwI0FNTtC-0hvWHwUnRpCESL2cv2mnUze76KxNnAF5ehL4k58yiyduptHrEhixT9SBUQRfmdaKCo8tWD1Lbe5ivLHi1TXqhdWHMvZbvbhitSffK3SIBVvVP2SJn9D61elxw9IiHwQcNWPv/s1600/GEDC1740.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592842725901470818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwI0FNTtC-0hvWHwUnRpCESL2cv2mnUze76KxNnAF5ehL4k58yiyduptHrEhixT9SBUQRfmdaKCo8tWD1Lbe5ivLHi1TXqhdWHMvZbvbhitSffK3SIBVvVP2SJn9D61elxw9IiHwQcNWPv/s320/GEDC1740.JPG" /></a> <br /><div>I took a test yesterday. You can very clearly see the dark blue "control" line, but what you may or may not be able to see is the very faint blue line to the right. Before we all get our panties in a wad though, I have to confess that I didn't look at the test until well after 10 minutes. I got busy. I do have three children you know! The test instructions state (in bold letters) that you absolutely <em>should not</em> read the test results after 10 minutes. It doesn't say <em>why</em>, though. Is it because the blue line might fade, leaving you to think you're not pregnant when you actually are? Or, is it because when the test strip dries, it reveals the faint blue line, leaving you to think you're pregnant when you're <em>not?</em></div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-86471942045458649462011-04-06T08:35:00.000-07:002011-04-06T08:44:23.954-07:00No Cause for Alarm, But...<a href="http://www.bakingshop.com/bc/img/CAND-Q.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 205px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.bakingshop.com/bc/img/CAND-Q.jpg" /></a> Today is day 37 of a normally 28-35 day cycle. <br /><div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I think it's still a little early to be jumping to pink or blue conclusions though. We've been out of town for the last two weeks, Anna has drastically decreased her number of nighttime nursings, and it's only my 3rd cycle since before I became pregnant in September 2008. Many factors at play right now. I'm not even convinced it's time to test, yet. I assure you though, as soon as I know one line or two, you'll know as well!</div></div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-68251896502650510522011-03-16T20:19:00.000-07:002011-03-16T20:29:45.674-07:00Planting Seeds?<img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 176px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.umext.maine.edu/piscataquis/_private/gardening/vol1iss10/2004/vol2iss5/germin5.gif" />As I was returning home tonight from a late-night trip to the grocery store I met our across-the-breezeway neighbor. He saw that I had Miss Anna with me and told me how precious she is (she is!) and asked how old she was (21 months next week, can you believe it?). He mentioned that his wife is due with their first child, a girl, in mid to late June. Ah! A due date conversation. Time to plant some "please don't induce on your due date" seeds.<br /><br />I said, "Oh that's wonderful! Anna was born a week after her due date, on June 28<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">th</span>. I was certain she was going to be born in July." Turns out I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">couldn't</span> have said anything more appropriate because my neighbor exclaimed, "That's our problem! My wife wants to buy the baby a birth stone necklace. She wants to buy the June birth stone." I told him I understood the pickle they were in because, "you know babies, especially first babies, tend to come much later than their due dates." He looked as if no one had ever mentioned the possibility that a baby wouldn't come on its due date and said, "Well I guess that makes sense. Maybe we should go ahead and buy the July necklace instead."<br /><br />Now if I can just keep the parents-to-be away from our anti-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBAC</span> OB neighbor, who lives next to me and caddy-corner from them!Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-75984288015194297562011-03-14T07:09:00.000-07:002011-03-14T08:20:17.283-07:00Who Am I to Complain?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA5tPvCdi0OUxR1lnphgiaiTt6_0M909Q0pQKnvVTxROJdbgWCW3kUOrqzuPRi_BCKFAj5gq93nTsPM-TlF7hX4TvatelWXPYjswQ1zNiNi9lMnnKZZ80jLyqk5H3eDDz4PWOEnmhMitdc/s1600/370px-Dark_blue_ribbon_svg.png"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 297px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA5tPvCdi0OUxR1lnphgiaiTt6_0M909Q0pQKnvVTxROJdbgWCW3kUOrqzuPRi_BCKFAj5gq93nTsPM-TlF7hX4TvatelWXPYjswQ1zNiNi9lMnnKZZ80jLyqk5H3eDDz4PWOEnmhMitdc/s1600/370px-Dark_blue_ribbon_svg.png" /></a><br /><br /><br /><blockquote></blockquote><em>"I'd forgotten just how extremely tired [it] makes me. It's the weirdest thing having to sit down and rest after doing something simple like sewing Eli a pair of pants or getting the kids a snack."</em><br /><br /><blockquote></blockquote><br /><p>That's a quote from <a href="http://imsorryforcursing.blogspot.com/">my friend Sheri's blog</a>. <strong>Sheri is going through this for the second time in two years. </strong>She has been preparing for this for a few months; getting her house in order, the fridge stocked with foods the kids can get/prepare themselves, summer clothes made, fall curriculum gathered and prepared, freezer foods, recipes for easy foods she or her husband can make. She's been mentally preparing for the physical rigors it brings with it. Coming to terms with the army of needles and tubes preparing to invade her body. She's begun the battle...<em>again.</em> Pretty typical HG right? </p><br /><p><strong>Except Sheri doesn't have HG. She has cancer.</strong> Again. She's young and has a husband and two small children and she's already fought and beaten cancer once and <em>it's just not fair! </em>It's so hard reading her blog and her <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">facebook</span> updates and knowing that all I can to is offer paltry "support" in the form of a meal and some kind words. I can't <em>really</em> make it any easier or take it away. I can't even join her in the fight. I'm just a witness, and I think...</p><br /><p>This is what it's like for my loved ones when I have HG. They must feel so helpless. They must feel <em>so angry</em>. Because unlike Sheri, who didn't <em>choose </em>cancer, I have chosen to continue being open to more children. I have chosen to open myself to the risk of HG over and over again. <strong>So who am I to complain?</strong><em> Her</em> sickness is caused by a poison that's not only killing her cancer but also damaging (for a time) her body. Mine is caused by a beautiful new life growing inside of me. She has no guarantee or assurance she'll live through cancer. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hyperemesis</span> is probably not going to kill me, though it gets an A++ for effort. </p><br /><p>I'm just feeling very conflicted this morning. I am so very thankful that Sheri has chosen to "blog her cancer". It gives me hope. Is that selfish? I don't know, but it encourages me more than you can imagine. If she can fight cancer, I can fight HG. Again.<br /><br /></p><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Ma</span></em><a href="http://www.cdc.gov/Features/ColorectalAwareness/"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">rch is National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month</span></em></a></div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-72656107727046772152011-03-13T04:00:00.000-07:002011-03-13T04:00:12.311-07:00My Babies: 6, 4 and 20 months<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVADcKqqc8jSP_kTuwZczjDunpN3X4RcLXiBDbwlO75Eju3O6phah-Z6lPMce85xr5GSDgc7dXPxmGjGzsWTdt2WxkQwJV5A8L4zUvoNTgu7i7Fytj9JHU7dnmm7KiFM3iqvoW7D2IzUJF/s1600/GEDC1543.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 259px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583337841960127154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVADcKqqc8jSP_kTuwZczjDunpN3X4RcLXiBDbwlO75Eju3O6phah-Z6lPMce85xr5GSDgc7dXPxmGjGzsWTdt2WxkQwJV5A8L4zUvoNTgu7i7Fytj9JHU7dnmm7KiFM3iqvoW7D2IzUJF/s320/GEDC1543.JPG" /></a><br />Caleb, age 4** Anna, age 20 months** Sarah, age 6Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-60035228465766401322011-03-12T07:19:00.000-08:002011-03-12T07:33:03.001-08:00Won't OB My Neighbor?You'll never guess what I recently learned about my next door (apartment) neighbor. I mean, I actually share a <em>wall</em> with this man! He's an obstetrician! Can you believe it? Of all the people with whom I could share a wall, and it's an OB. I'm very amused.<br /><br />My husband made the discovery. He stopped him in the breezeway one evening when they were both returning from work. When the subject came up, my husband took the opportunity to ask him if he attended <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBACs</span>. Of course he doesn't. The OB was shocked to learn I'd had two <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBACs</span>. He said he didn't know anyone who "did" <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBACs</span> anymore. He's right, too. No one in this area attends <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBACs</span>. You drive to Atlanta if you have the motivation, or submit to surgery if you don't. I'm so thankful our hometown and families and several <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBAC</span> supportive providers are only a 4 hour drive.<br /><br />Wouldn't it be something though, if I was planning to make the trek to Atlanta but discovered it was too late and I was going to have to give birth at home. Could I, should I, <em>would I</em> walk next door and ask the OB to attend? That thought makes me smile. Not only would he have a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBAC</span> on his resume, but a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">homebirth</span> to boot!Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-68756468745366286202010-12-18T06:43:00.000-08:002011-03-11T17:36:01.277-08:00Finding a "super" supporterAs I was thinking over my pregnancy plans, HG protocol, etc this morning I realized that my task in finding a care provider is two-fold. I must find a provider who is both HG supportive AND vbac supportive.<br /><br />Is this the impossible dream? I fear it might be. A supportive HG provider must be very proactive and intervention-minded, whereas a truly supportive vbac provider must <em>not</em> be. How can the two exist in the same person?<br /><br />I'm becoming more and more convinced that my best option is to find the most HG supportive provider I can, even if that means I must "sign up" for a cesarean at my first appointment, and then birthing at home unassisted.Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-38693596897262915092010-12-14T06:49:00.000-08:002011-03-11T17:36:01.313-08:00Plans, Plans, PlansSo many plans to be made! Our lives are so much different, so-full!-now. My first experience with HG was traumatic, but I only had to find a way to care for <em>myself</em>. My second experience with HG was more challenging because I had a very young <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">toddler</span> to care for. Still, there was just one child (who still napped) and family to help. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Hyperemesis</span> part three was the hardest thing I've ever done, to date. I had two active, non-napping children to care for and we'd moved away from family. The kids and I had to move back home and my mother-in-law practically raised them for five months. I was <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">hospitalized</span> for a week.<br /><br />This time we're in for a <em>ride</em>! This next pregnancy will test our faith, above all, but also our commitment to each other and our endurance. A new pregnancy will find us with a school-aged daughter, a preschool son and a toddler daughter. Our oldest daughter began homeschooling this year the beginning of a new pregnancy will find us at the beginning of 1st grade and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">pre</span>-K. My toddler shows no sighs of weaning and also co-sleeps. How will I manage nursing one child, homeschooling two children all while living on the bathroom floor for 9 months? We've decided not to separate this time, so we'll be away from any family who <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">might've</span> helped.<br /><br />This season we're entering will be one that lives in infamy!<br /><br />I know you think we're crazy. I know. But so is the "Iron Man" who pushes his body to its tipping point, no? And Iron Man <em>finishes where he began</em>. Our family will finish with a brand new immortal soul in the world. We'll end with ten hands helping two more emerge. We will be more, not less. Stronger, not weaker.<br /><br />Unlike previous pregnancies, I hope to have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">internet</span> access throughout. I'm looking forward to sharing this Phoenix-journey with you and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">chronicling</span> how I make it through.<br /><br /><em><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kyrie</span> <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">eleison</span> down the road that I must travel.</em>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-80000805604936332132010-10-12T09:29:00.000-07:002011-03-11T17:36:01.381-08:00Is it...?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLO1smxtIT9-eDDI0TGGvhkmIJQfjOcRWxN8EfX2BBMJYruskJ8u9V0xY-MtneuXrC_BMP3t4YyfbFTq06aaBshC8VUVT9qx6ZxfcqIIo_6Znm_FPAqYA4X0W8QHRpcdbq9zytqetTl-n/s1600/toilet.bmp"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 196px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527197711807453810" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLO1smxtIT9-eDDI0TGGvhkmIJQfjOcRWxN8EfX2BBMJYruskJ8u9V0xY-MtneuXrC_BMP3t4YyfbFTq06aaBshC8VUVT9qx6ZxfcqIIo_6Znm_FPAqYA4X0W8QHRpcdbq9zytqetTl-n/s320/toilet.bmp" /></a> Is it a stomach illness or. . . ? Not sure. Deep breaths.Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-23206186202805143202010-10-06T06:20:00.000-07:002011-03-11T17:36:01.392-08:00Something RightSince Anna's birth 15 months ago, I've questioned my decision to allow Sarah to be present at the birth. She asked to. She <em>begged</em> to. She adored her sister from the moment she found out Anna was a girl. What a priceless bonding experience, I thought, for an older sister to attend her baby sister's birth, to "be there" for her from the moment of her birth.<br /><br />Sarah is very mature for her age. At age three, strangers thought she was in kindergarten. She understands ideas and concepts with an adult-like clarity. We've never had "the birds and the bees talk" with her and yet she understands, somehow, that the making and birthing of a baby is a collaboration between God and (universal) Man. In preparation for Anna's birth, Sarah and I watched dozens of birth videos on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">youtube</span>. She was fascinated, not frightened. She would tell anyone who'd listen, "my mommy is going to push my baby sister out of her <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">buh</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">gina</span>!"<br /><br />So we were all set, right?<br /><br />All the birth videos we watched were of women giving birth either sitting up or semi-reclined. You could clearly see the women's <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">vaginas</span> and the baby's heads as they were born. When Anna was born, I was on my hands and knees. Sarah could see the baby's head as it first emerged, and instead of seeing it come from my vagina, it looked as if, in Sarah's words, I was "pooping her out". Sarah didn't like that.<br /><br />She wasn't as excited about Anna's birth as I'd hoped she'd be. It wasn't the huge sister bonding experience I expected. She didn't seem to be in awe of the birthing process. I was so disappointed! Had I made the right decision to allow her to attend Anna's birth? Had she been so traumatized by the birth that she wouldn't have a respect and love for birth as an adult?<br /><br />Last week my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">disappointment</span> turned to joy after a conversation Sarah and I had.<br /><br /><strong>Sarah: Mommy, I think I want to be a doctor when I grow up.<br />Me: That sounds like fun. Do you think you'll be a mommy, too?<br />Sarah: Well...not really. I think just a doctor.<br />Me: Why don't you want to be a mommy?<br />Sarah: Because having the baby is really hard work! </strong><br /><br />When she talked about birth as "really hard work" my heart soared! She didn't view birth as painful, or gross, or scary or unimportant. It was just hard work. I asked her if learning to ride her bike, learning to read and write, and learning to crack eggs were hard work and she agreed they were. So I asked, "but now that you have those skills, aren't you glad you went through the hard work?" She said she was.<br /><br />It's been one of my goals to raise my children with a respect for the normal birth process. I think I'm doing something right.Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-75645992681475337112010-09-28T06:13:00.000-07:002011-03-11T17:36:01.402-08:00Bad Breastfeeding Advice?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oL7eaF0AmAfGvJ8nhMR4B2urTI1z7U9FKk-AkVcRy1ulhl0C-AaSSypoKLh0DXe1vCqqPR1ziQcz0KhldnnzedT_s_9oDZP5PNmBRwRCubWrokbwSCnQejAbBS1BS4y_Tw7fbLWHYWCt/s1600/pedgatorade.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521953721164992962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6oL7eaF0AmAfGvJ8nhMR4B2urTI1z7U9FKk-AkVcRy1ulhl0C-AaSSypoKLh0DXe1vCqqPR1ziQcz0KhldnnzedT_s_9oDZP5PNmBRwRCubWrokbwSCnQejAbBS1BS4y_Tw7fbLWHYWCt/s320/pedgatorade.jpg" /></a><br />Anna is 15 months old today and still in love with nursing. She shows no signs of wanting to stop nursing and even nurses a few times at night. She even nursed through five weeks of Pertussis this summer. I'm happy with that!<br /><br />Two nights ago she had a temperature of 103.4 and experienced a febrile seizure. I've been a mother for nearly six years now but that was my first time dealing with one of those. It was terrifying. It was also very physically painful for me because she was nursing when the seizure came on, and she clamped her four sharp teeth right down on my nipple and I wasn't able to pry them off! I honestly thought my nipple was going to be bitten right off.<br /><br />Normally we don't take the children to a doctor for a fever, but since she had a febrile seizure I thought it warranted a quick trip. The doctor didn't seem to think anything of the seizure, but was <em>horrified</em> that I hadn't taken her to the emergency room for such a high fever. Our older two always get very high temperatures when they're ill and we've never had any problems with that.<br /><br />Her problem was that she had a double inner-ear infection. The doctor asked if she had diarrhea also and I said yes. She told me that I needed to quit nursing her for 24 hours because "dairy is not good for diarrhea". I didn't feel like arguing with her, so I just smiled and nodded. When I got home I looked it up (as I always do when a doctor gives me breastfeeding advice) and found this from <a href="http://www.kellymom.com/health/illness/baby-illness.html#vomiting"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">KellyMom</span>.com </a><br /><br /><strong>The current recommendations when vomiting or diarrhea is present in the breastfed child are as follows:<br /><br />•Breastfeeding should be the FIRST choice if your child can take anything by mouth. Because of the ease and rapidity with which <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">breastmilk</span> is digested, even if your child vomits or stools shortly after nursing, he will still have retained some of the nutrients. Other foods that are often suggested (such as <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Pedialyte</span>, sports drinks, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">gelatins</span> and sodas) offer little nutritional value and none of the antibodies that human milk contains.<br /><br /><br />•When your breastfed child is ill you'll want to offer more frequent feedings -- this can limit the volume taken in at one time and helps to comfort and soothe a sick child. If your child is vomiting often and not keeping the milk down for long, it may be helpful to breastfeed frequently but limit the length of each nursing session (so your child takes in less milk at once). Another option is for Mom to express some milk before breastfeeding so that the milk flow is slower. RARELY does the baby who is allowed to breastfeed at will during a vomiting or diarrhea illness become dehydrated.<br /></strong><br />So, I didn't feel the need to quit nursing her. It was so strange, because the doctor <em>seemed</em> to be very supportive of breastfeeding, even past infancy. She treated my nursing a 15 month old as completely normal. She was surprised that Anna was eating solid food, though. I told her she ate nearly everything we did and the doctor said, "oh? so you puree it then?" I said that I just cut everything into small bites and she said, "so she has chewing teeth?" I said no, just the four in front, but she could chew fine with her gums. The doctor didn't seem to understand that. She's from India, so I'm wondering what Indian mothers feed their toddlers?Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-40608948102377435382010-09-20T09:32:00.000-07:002011-03-11T17:36:01.413-08:00It Ain't Easy Being Green<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XCCzFkXsTyPN8TT6f4C8CGBgD2XEWDZ17k4b-b8E-mfWQSfVva3a-BtetfVBfMzs0rZFZJ-QxCsxw-XRZWSE9-tp_0UvZfOiJO54sDggERBfM85ue75P7cIcORax7oBm83e95mYQqIU/s1600/kermit_5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519058499155837714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XCCzFkXsTyPN8TT6f4C8CGBgD2XEWDZ17k4b-b8E-mfWQSfVva3a-BtetfVBfMzs0rZFZJ-QxCsxw-XRZWSE9-tp_0UvZfOiJO54sDggERBfM85ue75P7cIcORax7oBm83e95mYQqIU/s320/kermit_5.jpg" /></a><br />Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. It's a disgusting picture, isn't it? So is HG. So why, then, <em>why</em> am I looking forward to another baby--another <em>pregnancy</em>? Last night my husband and I were discussing my previous pregnancies and were having a fun <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">argument</span> over how much weight I actually lost and in how much time. He said it wasn't <em>so</em> bad, that 30 lbs in 12 weeks is just a little more than 2 lbs a week. I corrected him, saying that I hadn't started getting sick until week six, so I actually lost 30 lbs in <em>six </em>weeks. That was with my first pregnancy. The rest of our conversation went something like this:<br /><br />Husband: Yeah, but that was with Sarah. You weren't as sick with the other two.<br />Me: I know. I only lost 25lbs with Anna and about 15 with Caleb.<br />Husband: Oh. I forgot how bad it was. [pause] ...and you want to do that <em>again</em>??<br /><br /><br />The expression on his face said, "I wonder if it would be appropriate to suggest shock therapy?" <br /><br />Yes, I want to do it again. Again and again and <em>again</em>, Lord willing. What is right and what is worth it are rarely easy. I chose to have a cesarean with Sarah because I cared about her. It wasn't easy. It was scary and painful and lonely, but she was worth it. I planned a (socially unacceptable) <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">HBAC</span> with Caleb, labored for 50+ hours at home and chose to transport to the hospital. For a good southern girl to do anything out of the mainstream required a strength of character I hadn't known I possessed. To labor that long required stamina and faith. To transport to the hospital with the real threat of another section looming required the courage of ten Davids, but he was worth it. When I was told, with my third pregnancy, that I couldn't have a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">VBAC</span> because no one here attended them, I moved out of state. That decision required that I live as a single mother of a four-year-old and a two-year-old while engaging a third fight with HG, but she was worth it.<br /><br />Difficult tasks often require of us traits we don't associate with ourselves. Ask any president of any country if his or her job is easy. Ask a doctor what medical school and residency required of him. Ask a judge, a teacher, a soldier, a marathon runner. Their jobs require extreme faith, vigilance, focus, courage, resolve, strength--<em>sacrifice! </em>They do what they do because it's worth it. It's worth it all. I know all of the jobs I mentioned are laudable jobs in today's culture, and people <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">applaud</span> and reward the sacrifices of those who choose them. Everyone has had a mother though, and each mother makes equally noble, soul-searing, courageous sacrifices for her child, even if that choice is nothing more than allowing another, weaker, human-being to live within her body until he's strong enough to live with-out it.<br /><br />Yes, I'm looking forward to another pregnancy, another baby. Yes it will be one of the most difficult things I've ever done. Yes...he or she is worth it.Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-92219251899525760182010-09-06T08:24:00.000-07:002011-03-11T17:36:01.431-08:00Thought on my birthsWhen I was planning my HBAC (home birth after cesarean) with baby #2 I was looking at songs for my birth video. Lately, some of the words of Jewel’s “Life Uncommon” have moved me<br /><br />Lend your voices only to sounds of freedom<br />No longer lend you strength to that which you wish to be free from<br />Fill your lives with love and bravery<br />And you shall lead a life uncommon<br />Let your words enslave no one and the heavens will hush themselves<br />To hear our voices ring out clear<br />With sounds of freedom<br /><br />So, then, I’ve decided that instead of raging against my section I will revel in the excruciating beauty of my vaginal births. Please don’t take this to mean that I don’t love my cesarean-born daughter. The Bible says, “greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” John 15:13 and when a mother consents to a section she truly, literally lays down her life. Cesareans aren’t 100% safe and the number of women dying from cesarean complications is on the rise. I took a Bradley Method class in preparation for an un-medicated hospital birth so when I consented to the section I was fully aware of the risks. I only say all of this because I have been accused here a number of times of not loving my daughter. <br /><br />When I think of Caleb’s birth I think of hands and rocks. That’s what my birth attendants and family were. They were rocks to support me and hands to hold me. Though you could call Caleb’s birth a “failed homebirth attempt”, I don’t view it as such. I gave him a beautiful 40 hours of stress-free, peaceful, and intervention-free labor at home. Caleb and I walked together, rocked on the swing outside, and I prayed over him in the warmth of my birth tub. My doula encouraged me, my midwife watched over me, my husband supported me and my mother and all my sisters were witnesses to my hard, loving work. I even had sex! <br /><br />Then there was Anna’s birth. I got to the hospital not knowing I was in labor, having just gone up to be “checked” because it was 3a.m. and my insomniac sister and I were awake and bored. Not only was I in labor, but I was about to give birth! I don’t even know how to describe Anna’s birth. I arrived at the hospital at 7cm and didn’t feel anything in the way of pain or intensity until 9cm. I had a birth ball put onto the bed and leaned and rocked over it until it got uncomfortable. Then I climbed up onto the bed and got on my hands and knees. It felt good and right. I felt led by…something. It was as if there was an instruction guide in my head and my body was following it and leading me along. The way my senses came alive, it was overwhelming! I could hear the tick, tick, ticking of the second hand on the clock behind me. I was intensetly focused the vein in my right hand pulsing with the same rhythm as my uterus. I cold smell the acrid, metallic bitterness of John’s glasses as he stood by (don’t touch me, just watch. Watch what’s going to happen!). I could feel Anna moving, turning, pushing her way out. She was ready, and I was ready, and it was as if she was saying to me, “quiet your mind and I’ll show you the way,” and I responded, “I’ll follow you”. My body and my mind were laid bare that morning; open wide and accepting of forces beyond their control. I wasn’t hooked up to machines. No one told me what to do or instructed me. Everyone in the room was simply a witness, as in a wedding ceremony. Do you, Becky Taylor, accept the solemn duty to birth and mother this baby, leading and following in turn, as necessary? I do…and then she was born, behind me. She was quiet for a moment and then she called out to me and I turned to face her for the first time. Those are the only moments from her conception that we’ve been emotionally separated; those few seconds before she breathed life. <br /><br />As much as I adore, admire, respect and love my Sarah, my cesarean-born child, I cannot describe her birth the way I can Caleb’s and Anna’s, and that’s why I choose vaginal birth.Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-47458514619373696722010-07-10T15:16:00.000-07:002011-03-11T17:36:01.459-08:00He's Here! He's Here!After my sister got her epidural last night her labor slowed down quite a bit. She <em>finally</em> got to 5cm and then an hour later was completely dilated! <div><div><br /><br /><div>Introducing baby Damian! </div><br /><br /><div>Born on Friday, July 9 at 10:14 p.m. </div><div>and weighing 7lbs, 2oz. </div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXXXzzTh5fc8cwrw5bfSaA2sHFlI1tg63XaX5XkS3S_wJ3U0ywGnygqBSEmIVM9nxB-j3PHlALfF3GfY5mhljkWkexQonjAvB-FenU5usPQKvcemg-TQjUnGWkuDNzOSpJdROXmp_UJO4/s1600/damian.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492407006550208658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXXXzzTh5fc8cwrw5bfSaA2sHFlI1tg63XaX5XkS3S_wJ3U0ywGnygqBSEmIVM9nxB-j3PHlALfF3GfY5mhljkWkexQonjAvB-FenU5usPQKvcemg-TQjUnGWkuDNzOSpJdROXmp_UJO4/s320/damian.jpg" /></a> <div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;">In Loving Memory of Baby Izaiah, born still at 38 weeks in December 2005</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5ODAm9l_SaRgVPL7Echp_1IwKS3ejq3EHk3_oMqSqcgTSvjg0M2-hrzEaCdoRxQsWTmjd853qwbcDKAGWhsBt10QFffCHwyfcjz81hOYNyx1g3DP9EDFuX7MmPRgn__3HsjFMJajA0gS/s1600/lindsizaiah.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 228px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492407159117330866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5ODAm9l_SaRgVPL7Echp_1IwKS3ejq3EHk3_oMqSqcgTSvjg0M2-hrzEaCdoRxQsWTmjd853qwbcDKAGWhsBt10QFffCHwyfcjz81hOYNyx1g3DP9EDFuX7MmPRgn__3HsjFMJajA0gS/s320/lindsizaiah.jpg" /></a></div><div>Sister L with baby Izaiah</div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfHfR64bEJxNQegSR1_aIFSvoo5oxR11HDeWIMhDbDYK_RBdRpSuI1wmLm99E7TjJA8sPqEIazDlcUG-KACjrYMuiScZwdw9yLgR1qgzXaWG1e2qafd4Uw9zdVEW1Ui2zR-z8yOPByBfl/s1600/lindsdamian.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492406398967741250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfHfR64bEJxNQegSR1_aIFSvoo5oxR11HDeWIMhDbDYK_RBdRpSuI1wmLm99E7TjJA8sPqEIazDlcUG-KACjrYMuiScZwdw9yLgR1qgzXaWG1e2qafd4Uw9zdVEW1Ui2zR-z8yOPByBfl/s320/lindsdamian.jpg" /></a></div><div>Four years later with his brother, Damian</div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUfHfR64bEJxNQegSR1_aIFSvoo5oxR11HDeWIMhDbDYK_RBdRpSuI1wmLm99E7TjJA8sPqEIazDlcUG-KACjrYMuiScZwdw9yLgR1qgzXaWG1e2qafd4Uw9zdVEW1Ui2zR-z8yOPByBfl/s1600/lindsdamian.jpg"></a></div></div></div>Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4905657459154240355.post-85292957263739381272010-07-09T08:07:00.000-07:002011-03-11T17:36:01.473-08:00Today's THE Day!So, today's the big day! Sister L's baby will be born, one way or another. For those of you who don't know sister L's birth history, you can <a href="http://nowombpods.blogspot.com/2008/02/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleeep.html">read her story here</a>.<br /><br /><br />She's 36 weeks, 1 day. She's been in the hospital for 4 or 5 days for "observation". Her induction was supposed to start last night at midnight, but there were no "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">LDR</span>" rooms available and the nursery was "overflowing" with babies. <br /><br />We're all so nervous for her. Really, we've all been nervous the entire pregnancy! I'm hoping this baby can be born as peacefully as possible, but they've already had her sign a cesarean consent form. That's<em> not</em> good news.Beckyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03795297107645737278noreply@blogger.com2