The Birth of Stella Bea

Our daughter is finally here! Well, actually, she's been here for 2 weeks. I've been a tad busy and tired so I haven't gotten around to writing her story, but finally, she is here. Her name is Stella Bea Hamilton Greenbank. She was born at exactly 4pm on Wednesday, August 15th. She was 6lbs and 6oz, 20 inches. Now for the details....

We got our induction date on the 13th, at our doctors appointment. I got my weekly ultrasound, and wouldn't you know, she was low on fluid and not growing much. We were thrilled to be meeting her so soon! I was so happy I cried on the way home and we marveled for hours about how soon our daughter would be in our arms! We told our family and friends and prepared for the next night.

We ate our last pre-parenthood meal at Applebee's at 7pm. Our induction was scheduled for 7pm, but Applebee's was packed and I WAS going to have my pre-labor steak. No doubt about it. So I ordered a black pepper steak with veggies and a baked potatoe, sour cream and butter of course, off of the 2 for 20 menus. We ate until about 7:40, and finally headed in. We checked in and got my room set up.

First I got my IV and that was a task all in itself. We had a really cheery nurse named Emily and she was hilarious. I told her I was terrified of the IV in general and would appreciate it if she would use the numbing agent and be super quick. She did all that I asked for, but even still Levi had to hold my hand during the insertion and everyone heard my toes clench the sheets. Everyone had a good laugh about that. Shortly after, since I was only dilated to a one, they put cervidel in place. (for those not familiar with this, cervidel is a flat, tampon-looking and sized medication placed just under the cervix for about 4-12 hours, to help you dilate. This amount of time will depend on the lady, you can go into labor just with this, but it doesn't always happen!) For two hours after this, I was supposed to lay on my back, no getting up, no sitting up. Things were great for about 2 hours, then I got really terrible cramps/contractions. Unfortunatly, I still wasn't dialting very fast. I was miserable and cranky all night, and didn't sleep. At 7am things got moving as I was administered the Pitocin. (pitocin is a drug given through the IV to start contractions. The contractions start very suddenly, and very intensely. It's painful.)

So, at 7am, my doula, Janna, shows up to support me. I'm given the pitocin and through out the morning family visits every now and then and we try some soothing techniques. I'm progressing at about 1cm an hour. By three cm, I'm really starting to freak out. My water has broken and I'm bleeding an insane amount all over the bed and sitting in a puddle. Since we had low fluid, after my water broke it left me and Stella with VERY little cushioning for the labor. The contractions had me in tears and I told them I needed something to relax because I was on the verge of sobbing. My doctor happily and readily okayed me for the epidural.

Sadly, all anesthesiologists that I've encountered seem to think they know everything. Right down to YOUR body and YOUR feelings. This was exactly the case here. If you read my story about my appendectomy, then you know my last epidural wasn't very pleasant. I felt the insertion the whole way. As I did this time. The anesthesiologist told me he would test the area after the first numbing shot to see if it was numb before using the large rod to insert the catheter. I was very adamant about this request and begged many times, just to let him know how serious I was. Unfortunatly. He blew me off. He gave me my area anastethic and immediately inserted the rod. imagine his surprise when I started screaming and bawling and my nurse and step mother had to hold me still and upright. Asshole. He assured me LOUDLY that I 'couldn't' feel it. Which I LOUDLY replied was a farce, and that I felt like my back side was being impaled.

It was placed a little funny, and since it was a low-dose epidural anyways, it really just took the edge off of the contractions. I could still feel my whole body, control my legs and feel my pelvis and vagina. Which was fine with me, but my nurse seemed to feel really bad for me and kept offering to have more pain killer brought on. This was by far the worst part of the whole delivery, i can happily say!

After I got the epidural, I began to relax and dilated much quicker, I got to 9 cm pretty quick, and not even five min after being told I was 9 cm, I pulled my legs up and told everyone I really felt like she was coming. The nurse didn't look convinced, but sure enough when checked me, baby was ready to go! She encouraged me to 'hold it' since we weren't set up or anything yet, which was HARD.

As they pulled the stirrups around and dropped the bottom half of the bed, and brought in the mirror, my mind went into a dream-like state. This baby was coming. All the worry, all the fear, and all of the yearning to know she'd finally make it, and here she was. I was going to give birth to this wonderful tiny person.

Just months earlier we were told she'd never make it. We were told I didn't have a 'good uterus'. I was 'too sick'. Just weeks earlier, I had cried in my bedroom floor holding her tiny pj's mourning the loss to come, mourning the tiny being inside me that I felt I was so close to losing. I had laid in the tub with contractions and feeling her tiny body squirm inside me and I would cry. I just knew I'd never get to hold her. I just knew I couldn't be so lucky. That this perfect, tiny baby, wasn't going to be mine for much longer. I laid at night having night mare after nightmare of the day I'd have to say good bye. I'd carefully scrapbooked, and archived every dr office trip, every ultrasound, every event. Just so I'd remember the time I got with her. All of that, and here she was. Ready to meet me. Alive. Living. Just moments away.

I panted and Levi held one leg, while Janna held the other, and I gripped my thighs and beared down for the first push. By the end of the contraction, the nurse said, "Look!", and I looked up at the mirror, and sure enough, I saw exactly what I felt. The top of her tiny head. I sighed and hit the back of the bed waiting on another contraction. Janna wetted a washcloth and placed it on my forehead, all while trying to simataneously record the events in her notepad. Levi stroked my cheek and smiled with the happiest smile and said, "You are so strong.". I felt the next contraction and pulled my legs up, the nurse told me she was going to get my doctor. I felt so dreamily calm and peaceful. Not at all how I had imagined it being, but exactly as I'd hoped. My dr came in and was set up pretty quick, she told me I was doing the best she'd ever seen a first time mom do.

The next contraction came, and I pushed the hardest I could, while Janna counted quietly in my ear. I began to feel an intense burning. I looked up and saw about a 3-4 in. circle of her head. I reached down and felt her head. It was the softest thing I'd ever felt. I felt giddy. Levi reached down and stroked her head and looked at me and said, "She definitly has hair!" . The contraction ended and I felt her sink back into me considerably. I sighed with frustration. Janna said that the next few pushes might be like that,  but after I can get her past my pubic bone, she'll stop doing that.

Lev cutting the cord, and me reaching out for my daughter

Right after they administered the eye drops, she has little duck lips.

The next push came, and I felt an intense need to push before Janna started counting and I just knew this was it. She was going to be out, and SOON. I felt her tiny ears begin to come, and the burning became so intense I couldn't hold back noises any more. I bore down for the last push and I felt so worn out, so drained, but so determined. I began to feel the worst of the pain and thought I was begining to tear, just as I looked up at Levi. He was looking at her coming and when he noticed I was looking at him, he smiled at me and said, "You're doing it!!". I finished the push, and felt her tiny head slide out. My dr began tugging at her body and I let out a few half-hearted pushes and here she was. My beauty. My prize. My flower. My daughter. My everything.

Name Regret

If you've ever had a kid, I'm sure you know what I'm referring to. Not to say that everyone, or anyone, will experience name regret, just that I'm sure you are familiar with the term, because if you don't have it, you probably worried that you would.

I've got it.

BAD.

One would think, but she's not here yet, you've got time to fix this! No. Not really. I've tried 'fixing it'. It just turns out shitty and undesireable. So. Here's where this all started.

When we first found out we were pregnant, we were 17wks along. Almost everyone was already asking what we were naming it and we hadn't even decided whose last name it'd have. (Which we did decided relatively quickly that she'd have BOTH of our last names, due to the fact that regardless of marriage, I'm going to have the same last name. Which both families through a colossal fit about and made us both feel like shit. Boo-hoo. That's something that was never up for discussion, and even if it was we could reason our way around it, no one chooses what name they have, but you do choose whether you'll need 'proof' to pick your kid up from school.) We had a few picked out just in case, but since I was so sure it'd be a boy, I only put time into that gender's names. Which we landed a lovely Zander Van Kruz Hamilton Greenbank. Say that five times fast. Just kidding, you'll give your tongue a cramp.

When we found out our darling dumpling was a female, things got really personal, and really difficult to agree on. Levi didn't like anything, but never really put any time into picking one out himself, either. I felt like I was just taking my beloved picks to him for slaughter. "That's unique.....but she's never going to look like an ____." Or, "that sounds so old....". And it goes like that until month 5. (One month later.)

We then decide on Thelma Bea Hamilton Greenbank. I was stoked. She'd be my Thelma. My pretty, little Thelma Bea. It sounded so good, and I could imagine calling her name on a playground and just she'd turn around. I knew it was 'old', but it sounded perfect and I KNEW this was her name. Levi felt (so he said) exactly the same. Until we had to tell people.

We didn't expect people to be so blunt with how much they hated her name. We really didn't. And it hurt. It hurt me really badly, Levi looked hurt and that made it even worse. We felt like "if her own family says things like this....then who's to say what kids will say?" I cried for days. Levi immediatly started looking at other names and I felt like my favorite name in the whole world had just been taken from me. I felt robbed. Yes, I could stil name her this. But then what? Then I'm stuck self-conscous and worried for her. It was a pathetic move, but we chose an 'alternative', because we were so hurt.

The alternative is not to be named, because despite what the rest of my/his loudmouth family will tell you, I wanted to keep it a surprise. Call me a drama queen, but I felt that atleast if I could learn to love this name as much as Levi did before everyone started saying it, maybe it'd grow on me. Maybe I wouldn't feel like everyone had bullied me. Anywho, the alternative IS a lovely name, and I do love it. Just not as much as I loved Thelma. You might be thinking some of the following things, and I'll tell you why each isn't happening.

1. "Just do both! You can put one as the first, and one as the middle!"

Okay. This is not a solution, however good it sounds. ONE of the names will have to be the first name, thus it's what she'll be called. So really, only one is still going to be "the" name. That, and they sound terrible together. Even just as first-middle name. Terrible.

2. "Well you can just name the next one!"

There won't be a next one. Not only will my body probably not allow it, but I don't want a 'next one' and even if we did, every child is precious, i don't want one to be 'mine' and one to be 'his'. I want to have equal parts in both of their whole lives, names and all.

3. "Well change it now anyways!"

If i did that, it'd put levi where I am now. And that's something I won't do, purposely. He loves her new name and I can tell it's exactly what he plans to call her. I won't steal that from him and honestly, it'd just make me feel shitty for making him feel that way.

So really. There isn't much to be done here. Levi told me I could have free-reign on her middle name, but I care about this as much as I care about my grocery shopping list. i feel like I'll get 'around to it' and really, i feel like the middle name is only made to make the first name sound better, and to differentiate between two children who may coincidentially have the same first and last name. None of this matters to me, on a  sentimental level. It feels like a pretty utilitarian duty. I chose three middle names I liked pretty well and that fit the first name decently but I honestly don't feel any sentimental value towards them. I don't know anyone called by the first and middle name on a regular basis and I don't care to make her into one of those people, so really it's just a paper name. A name she'll write on the few occasions the line says "full name" and the even fewer occasions that she takes the time to actually do that. It kills me to know that I've let such a big ship sail. I don't know what will happen in the hospital, but right now I've got a feeling the paperwork will be a very stiff and awkward moment. I just hope that she doesn't mind nick names, because I plan to call her Little Foot forever, until she becomes so embarrassed I need to call her by her actual name.

So there you have it, name regret. It blows.

Doing Things "Differently"

If there is one thing I can't stand, it's when some one, or people in general, take things super personally, and it had zip to do with them in the first place.

With other moms in particular, I've experience about all I can handle of this type of crap. I understand that it's a delicate subject, parenting is, but you have to be confident enough to know that you made, or are making, the best decision for you and your family. This isn't always going to be the same way everyone else does it, and it certaintly is NEVER going to be the ONLY way of doing it. So when you make a decision, just stick with it and know it's YOURS to make for a reason, you will know what's best for your kid(s). So who cares what Sally from PTA or Ellen from Facebook think? Do they have to deal with your kid(s) everyday? Do they really know you even? Probably not, so take a breather and don't let it get to you.

That being said, I've encountered a gross amount of moms who seem to think that just because I openly admit that I don't plan on doing things their way, I MUST be calling them a crap mom. Well guess what. I'm not, and I won't ever. Why? Because not only is it just not my style to put some one down about anything, much less something so personal, I really, truly, honest-to-goodness, DONT CARE. Don't now, and probably won't ever. As long as you aren't molesting or abusing your child, there is not a reason in the whole world for me to give a rap about what you do with them. As if I even had the time to pay attention.

I choose not to vaccinate on schedule, not to use pacifiers, not to feed on a set schedule, and to cloth diaper when I can. These things seem to have caused many an issue with other moms. Usually, it looks like a really self-concious and defensive mom just can't handle that their way isn't the ONLY way. I researched each of my decisions and weighed the pros and cons. As I hope every mom does at some point in time, anyways. And through that process, I decided what was best for ME. This doesn't mean I 'dissaprove' of your way, it just means it wasn't for me. I don't know how to further communicate this difference. I've been pretty blunt about things, because I hate playing games with people. Why don't I use pacifiers? Because:
1. I plan on breastfeeding, and it can cause 'nipple confusion' if you don't have a good handle on it in the beginning.
2. I can't afford to go buy a new one every day when one gets lost.
3. I dont want the anxiety of my child NEEDING a material item to soothe themselves, should I lose this item on a public outting, I don't want to be spazzing to get ahold of one, or have to pay a ridiculous price just to keep my kid from screaming.
4. I've seen 5 yr olds with pacifiers. No joke. I don't usually judge, but I admit that after like 1 yr, I would really freak out if my kid still needed a paci to soothe themselves. Not only does it loose the cute factor big time and just become really frustrating, but msot dentists will tell you that after 12 mos it can cause dental difficulties, like protruding front teeth and depending on what foods they eat, in combination with the paci, it can literally rot their teeth before they even come in.

There's that for an example. I DO research these things. I'm not just a sadist that doesn't want my daughter to be able to calm herself, actually the opposite. I'm hoping with the absence of this item, she can learn to calm herself for years to come with a strategy that has nothing to do with a paci. That being said, when parents do use pacifiers, I think nothing of it. That's right. While people look at me and will literally have the nerve to say "that poor baby!" about a lot of my decisions, when I see some one elses kid with one, I think nothing. Really. I don't care. In fact,  happen to think newborns with pacis are adorable....I even bought some micro-sized pacifiers becuase they are just so cute. Have you seen one? New born pacifiers are SO tiny.

Anyways. You get my point, i hope. Open your mind up and accept that you make the decisions you do because it's what's best for YOUR family, but that isn't the case for everyone.
p.s. I don't know that baby. But I found it online and it's cute.

To Pop - Or Not?

As you know, if you've read my last post, I'm to be induced either the 6th, or the 14th. Well it's the 6th. But it's also 3.24 am. So I don't have an inkling of what's to come yet. Shall I be popped today? Or is it another week away?

I should be sleeping, just in case it turns out it is today, but I just can't seem to. At all. I'm pretty excited and I can't wait to go to the appt because even if I'm not popped, they'll probably let us see her via ultrasound, and that's something I rather enjoy!

We already installed the carseat and put the bags in the car. We've put together and placed all of her furniture where it is to be once she's here, and we've even laid out her first clothes and the self-help books on breast feeding, should I encounter a major slump. Levi has prepared her little bassinet with the baby monitor and all. I baked some cookies a bit ago for the hospital stay, and I have even begun to feel what I believe is my cervix dilating. (a terrible sharp pain in the vagina, seriously, I just don't know what else it could be!)

We met with Jana (Our charming doula.), and she seemed pretty pleased with how things were going so far. She didn't argue with me at all about my change to the birth plans and supported the idea of induction in my case, which was nice! I had originally been worried that she would be a little annoyed or seem otherwise bothered by my decision to be more open to an epidural and accept the induction wholly. (She had never been judgmental, and has always supported us, but you just see it in someones face when they dont agree with your decision or are dissapointed you, you can feel it. Even when they try to hide it and be supportive.) That wasn't the case at all though, she didn't even seem stunned by it. She simply gave us a little more advice on epidurals and told us what we could expect with one, and an induction. I seriously reccomend any pregnant person and their partner to consider a doula. They're great, supportive, knowing, and very helpful. I've definitely had a lot more peace-of-mind with ours, than I think I would've otherwise.

We're pretty excited about this whole process and of course getting to meet our child, but honestly, I'm pretty nervous. It feels so surreal. It doesn't feel like it's time yet, I still feel like I'm thinking about 'some day' when I imagine her. It's a crazy feeling. I can't wait to hold her in my arms. I've been dreaming about this day since we saw her on our first ultrasound, with her micro-hiccups. We teared up and let out a breath that we'd been holding, in the worries of finding a no longer living baby in my womb. There she was. Alive and hiccuping. Living. Making it.

Starting that day, I had begun to dream about the moment I'd hold her. The moment I'd first breastfeed her. The moment I'd first bathe her. But it never felt like enough. I cried all the time. I felt like each day was just one more day I'd managed to keep her, that I was just buying a little more time with her everyday, every hour. It never felt like I'd get to hold her. It never felt like she would make it. I was always hopeful and positive outloud, and never gave up on her, but you can't help how you feel. And I felt like this baby was going to be taken away from me before I ever got to see her face.

Sometimes, milestones felt great, I felt like, "If we've made this far, who's to say she won't make it all the way?!?!". And other days, I felt like it would only make it that much harder to have her taken away from me. Stripped from my life. Stripped of life.

I remember in particular, the day we found out she could possibly live outside the womb, if born, with extreme and extensive medical care. They told us, that if born, she'd be taken to NICU and probably live a good few hours atleast, if not longer. I was giddy to have hope that she had chances of making it now, even if my body failed her. Until a horrible reality struck me. What if she were born, and didn't make it.

I would've held her tiny body in my arms for just long enough to feel her warmth. She would have to have an IV bigger than her fingers and tubes in every place a tube could go. She would see the light, if only for a minute, but never me or Levi. She would be a blind, naked, prodded, vulnerable, purple and pink, tiny and needle-ridden baby. She would be miserable. Then die.

Yes, I would get the benefit of seeing her alive for a moment, but then what? Then she either dies in her incubator while I watch, or turns cold in my arms, weak and limp. Watch the life fade right away from her. My baby. My poor baby. My poor, helpless, miserable, baby. What good was this for either of us? Her miserable, then dead, and I, sad but grateful for a few hours, then devastated and stripped of joy and any kind of life I had.

Every milestone was bittersweet. I felt like everything was out to get her and eventually, something would. We just couldn't be lucky enough to make it through this. We couldn't. I told myself I'd enjoy everyday untl then, though. Until she was taken away from me, I would.

So to imagine, that I'm 38 weeks pregnant, and that this baby could come at any moment on her own, or that she'll be helped along in a few hours (or a week), is crazy. I almost can't grasp it. I look at my belly everyday and wonder how we made it. How she got so lucky. How I got so lucky.

Wish us luck. I'm hoping for nothing but a perfectly healthy baby out of this, and I don't think that's too much to ask!

Induction Dates

We have finally got an induction date! Or rather, two induction dates.

But how is that? Two? You only birth once, yes?

True, I am only going to birth this baby once, but when is the question. Little Foot has somewhat low fluids. Not dangerously low, she still has the means to live. If it's any lower at our next appt though, we'll be having ourselves a baby on the 6th, if not, then we're going to have her on the 14-15th!

As I posted before, I really wanted a natural, un-augmented birth. I'm mildly dissapointed that this is no longer going to happen, but honestly, I've been throwing up for days, I've got stomach cramps, no apetite, and can't seem to stop losing weight. With the surgery, pushing is going to hurt my incision quite a bit anyways, and I had already considered the fact that an epidural might be neccasary to avoid crapping out from exhaustion half way through delivery and having to have a c section. I've come to terms and made my peace with this and really just cannot wait for this to be over.

I know it seems a little extreme to put it that way, but recently, I've had nightmarish panic attacks. I can't stop worrying about her all the time. I'm always terrified that she's dead or sick. If I can't get her to move, i hyperventilate. I just can't handle it anymore, emotionally, or physically. I've even sobbed about these things to the point of throwing up and I can't handle it.

I'm more than ready for this to happen, and yes, I am killer nervous about this induction, but I couldn't be more excited to hold her. I'd cut her out myself if I thought it were the only way to save her, and so an induction seems not so bad in comparison (;

Can't wait to meet this baby!