Saturday, September 10, 2011
Revamp!
I'm trying to revamp my blog a little and make it more exciting, more functional, more informational. Thus far, I mostly just write about random stuff, whenever I want to. I don't know if very many people read this, so if you do, comment and let me know! Also, tell me what you would like to see from me, both general content (like, what do you want to know about me in an "About Me" page) and specific topics for posts. I mostly write this for myself, but I'd like to be interesting for my readers as well. :-)
Monday, May 9, 2011
Happy Mothers Day?
Mothers Day is a day sure to elicit strong emotions from everyone. Each person has their own opinions on what is appropriate and who should be celebrated on this day. I've had some rather interesting conversations about this lately, especially about how it should be celebrated at and in the context of our Church. I thought I might put my own thoughts and feelings down.
I think the conflict in celebrating Mothers Day comes from a fundamental confusion about what is being celebrated. Are we celebrating acts of mothering? The motherly qualities that teach and comfort, even if only in moments? Are we celebrating the idea, the divine role of mothering? Or are we celebrating those women who serve 'in the trenches' day in and day out? Who sacrifice their bodies, their times, their own needs in order to give completely to their children? The ones who are actively mothers, with children that they care for, seemingly unceasingly? Herein, lies the conflict, at least for me. I haven't come to any conclusions about what the day is meant to celebrate, only ideas about how to celebrate depending on which interpretation you're using.
At my church, it's traditional for all adult women to be given a small gift at the end of Sacrament Meeting on Mothers Day. This is usually arranged by the Young Men's organization, so boys 12-18 years old and their leaders. In order to avoid anyone having to make awkward determinations about who is or is not a mother, they have all the women stand and receive the gift, usually something simple, like a chocolate bar, a plant or a bookmark. The first year I was an adult in a ward where there were families, I didn't have any children of my own; I had only been married less than 2 months! I felt awkward receiving a gift and being celebrated for something I hadn't done yet. The year after that, I was pregnant with my first child and felt a little better about being celebrated because I was on the path to motherhood, but it was still early and very few people knew I was pregnant. I was still pretty sick at that point too. Obviously since then, I've had a child and been a mother, in a way that was obvious to everyone.
I've found there is so much pressure on those who are asked to give a talk or teach a lesson on Mothers Day. There is pressure to include everyone, women who have children at home, women who haven't been able to have children because of infertility, women who have grown children and some of whom are grandmothers, women who are unmarried or waiting to have children, women who never had children for whatever reason but have had motherly influences on others as aunts, teachers, leaders, etc. Yet, I've also felt that when you say "We're all mothers, no matter what" it at least somewhat minimizes the struggles and day to day sacrifices of those who are mothers. Let me say that when I tell people what the biggest adjustment about parenthood was for me, it was the relentlessness. Parenting does not stop. You may do all the same tasks: cooking, cleaning, changing diapers, reading books, etc as a babysitter, a nanny, an aunt or a grandmothers, but at some point, your shift is over and you give the kids back to their parents. When you're the parent, your shift never stops. You may get a few hours here and there where you're not performing the childcare yourself, but you are always thinking about it, thinking about what you need to teach your children, thinking about the responsibility you have for them. There is a never a break from that. And that is what makes parenthood different. So not every woman is a mother. (The conversation about when you become a mother is a separate one. I have friends who have lost babies or are birthmothers who placed their babies for adoption. I wouldn't dream of telling them that since they aren't caring for their children every day that they're not mothers. Same with how I wouldn't tell an adoptive mother that since she doesn't share genetics with her children, that she isn't really a mother. Like I said, that's a different conversation.)
Both my sister and my sister-in-law are very involved aunts in the lives of their nieces and nephews. They babysit the kids, take them out for special events, have them over for sleepovers, and care for all their needs in the hours/days the kids are with them. These women are performing mothering acts, having a motherly influence. My daughter loves her Auntie Katie so much and is just about as comfortable with her as she is with me. But, Katie isn't her mother, I am. At the end of the day, I am the one worrying about if Jilly is eating enough, if she is where she should be developmentally, if she has the clothes she needs, and so on. The aunts enrich the lives of the children and teach them many things, these kids are so blessed to have them! These ladies will make fantastic mothers when that day comes. But at this time, they're not mothers, and while their efforts are motherly and definitely valuable, they're not the same as those I make as a mother.
But on the other side, I definitely believe that all women are endowed with special qualities and abilities from our Heavenly parents that are those of mothers and motherhood. I believe every woman (and really, you could swap mother for father and motherhood for fatherhood throughout all of this) has the potential and the inherent qualities to be motherly. This is what I think people really mean when they say "We're all mothers." I think they mean "We're all motherly, because we are created in the image of our Heavenly Mother." This is where I absolutely feel it appropriate and important to recognize the motherly influences of all different roles.
Growing up, I had a great mother. She taught me not only day to day skills and modeled how to be a mother, but she taught me important character and spiritual lessons. I learned how to cook, a little bit of sewing, how to change a diaper, how to make hospital corners when making a bed, how to read, and so many more things. She also taught me, by example and by talking with me, to be confident in who I am and how I deserve to be treated, how to look for the fun and humor in life, how to find the silver lining, and how to examine and analyze a situation and look for the deeper meaning. I also had many other women in my life who have been motherly to me and influenced and taught me. When I was in college, especially the year I got engaged and married, there was a senior missionary couple at the Institute. The wife, Sister Smith, took everyone under her wing, and was an especial support to me during that time. She helped me get ready to go through the temple for my endowments and encouraged me, and most of all, was happy for me about my upcoming marriage. She filled a void with her mothering of me. I am grateful for hers and many other women's mothering efforts on my behalf. I have so benefited from them. But their influence and efforts and sacrifices, while amazing, weren't quite the same as my own mother's and I don't want to project the idea that they are equal.
I think this is the conflict of Mothers Day. Do we celebrate the efforts and sacrifices of mothers or the influence and divine nature of the institution of motherhood? That can be a personal decision for each person in their own family. This year, my husband made an effort to pamper me all weekend and tell me how much he appreciated all I did as a mother for our children. And when I wrote out the card to my own mother, I wrote it only from me and thanked her for what she did as a mother. I had my kids give her presents, hug her, kiss her, and tell her Happy Mothers Day, but it was mostly about me celebrating her efforts as a mother, not necessarily as a grandmother. But, when you're involved in a church or organization, as I am, and Mothers Day needs to be addressed by the group, how do you best do that? You want to value everyone and all their efforts, yet you cover such a large and varied group it's hard to do without annoying or offending or hurting someone. Here is how I think Mothers Day should be approached, at least in the context of my church.
I think all the talks in Sacrament Meeting should be about the divine nature of womanhood and motherhood. I want to hear about how all women are patterned after our Heavenly Mother and the qualities given to us from Her. I want to hear about the motherly influence each of us can have on others, no matter if we have born and raised children or not. I want it to be about those divine qualities of nurturing, spirituality, patience, faith, and love. I feel that is a way to include all women and celebrate Mothers Day for each of us. I do not want to hear about how being a mother is about teaching your kids how to clean the toilet or make jam or other tasks. I'm not saying those are bad things, but I do think making the celebration of Mothers Day, by the Church, about those things can only lead to offense and upset. Women without children will feel belittled and ignored because they can't do those things with their own children. Women with children will feel like they're being held up to a standard that is impossible to live up to and more discouraged about things that really don't matter, like how often they sweep the floor. Let's focus on the principles and divinity of the gifts of mothering, not on the nitty gritty details that vary for each woman and her situation. Sunday School, I would say to ignore it completely and just continue with the normally scheduled lesson. And for Relief Society and Young Womens, I have two ideas, depending on the ward. For either plan, I would like it if the men of the ward took over Primary and Nursery and all the sisters (including YW) could meet together (they could do this either only the third hour, or to have the biggest impact, have the men take over the 2nd hour Primary classes as well, so the women can go to Sunday School too). The first suggestion is to have a lesson on motherhood, in the same vein as the Sacrament Meeting talks. Let us celebrate the beautiful and divine influence we can have as mothers and motherly figures. Let us encourage those future mothers (whether they be the YW or just RS sisters who haven't had children yet) about how noble and rewarding motherhood is! Let us uplift all the women in the ward and recognize their motherly efforts. Let us truly bond as sisters and as women, daughters of Heavenly parents who love us and have given us so much. The second suggestion is to gather together and just 'take the day off', if you will. This happened in a few wards of my friends' yesterday. The women gathered in the cultural hall (or wherever) and got to sit and chat and socialize, while eating yummy treats, like a chocolate fountain or cheesecake. Sure, it's not deeply spiritual, but it would be so nice to have that opportunity for all the sisters of the ward to get to spend time together. I know it would be especially rewarding to those women who serve in Primary and Young Women each week, sacrificing the chance to go to Sunday School and Relief Society for their own spiritual nourishment, and instead work with small squirmy children and teenagers who resist all authority. Often these women feel so isolated from the Relief Society and sisterhood, and one day a year to congregate with and enrich those bonds of sisterhood could make a big difference.
This also leads me to another thing about Mothers Day that I take issue with. There is an attitude in the Church that women are saints and men are sinners. Look at the difference between the General RS Meeting talks and the talks given in the Priesthood session of General Conference. The women are vaunted and nearly beatified, constantly being told about how wonderful and long suffering they are. The men are told that they're constantly screwing up, like they're all viewing pornography and ignoring their Priesthood responsibilities. Overall, it's like "The poor saintly women have to put up with these sinful, dumb men." And then, when a woman leader does get up and not even harshly, but gently, call the women to task, she is ridiculed and excoriated and the cry of "How dare she say that! Doesn't she know that I can't do that because of these circumstances in my life?! We don't all live in that perfect world!" (Some of the uproar after Sister Julie B. Beck's "Mothers Who Know" talk a few years ago, comes to mind.) This attitude plays out on both Mothers Day and Fathers Day. Have you noticed the difference in how they are celebrated at church? When was the last time you heard a Sacrament Meeting talk on the third Sunday of June contain the phrase "We're all fathers"? Have you ever heard it? I don't know that I have. I do know that I've heard plenty of talks that still showcase a father's weaknesses and faults and make fun of them. How sad! So everything I have suggested for celebrating Mothers Day is meant to be applied completely equally to Fathers Day. (I feel that the attitude I've described also desperately needs to change, but this is another thing that is a conversation for another day.)
Mothers Day is a day to celebrate mothers as well as the institution of motherhood and influence of mothering. So much of the conflict and upset surround this day could be resolved, or at least ameliorated, by recognizing and acknowledging the divide in how the holiday is perceived and adjusted the celebrations thusly. What are your thoughts on any of this? How do you perceive Mothers Day? What do you want to see, in how it is celebrated, specifically at church? What is the purpose of the day? The conclusions that I have come to aren't hard and fast. I would like to other people's experiences and thoughts.
I think the conflict in celebrating Mothers Day comes from a fundamental confusion about what is being celebrated. Are we celebrating acts of mothering? The motherly qualities that teach and comfort, even if only in moments? Are we celebrating the idea, the divine role of mothering? Or are we celebrating those women who serve 'in the trenches' day in and day out? Who sacrifice their bodies, their times, their own needs in order to give completely to their children? The ones who are actively mothers, with children that they care for, seemingly unceasingly? Herein, lies the conflict, at least for me. I haven't come to any conclusions about what the day is meant to celebrate, only ideas about how to celebrate depending on which interpretation you're using.
At my church, it's traditional for all adult women to be given a small gift at the end of Sacrament Meeting on Mothers Day. This is usually arranged by the Young Men's organization, so boys 12-18 years old and their leaders. In order to avoid anyone having to make awkward determinations about who is or is not a mother, they have all the women stand and receive the gift, usually something simple, like a chocolate bar, a plant or a bookmark. The first year I was an adult in a ward where there were families, I didn't have any children of my own; I had only been married less than 2 months! I felt awkward receiving a gift and being celebrated for something I hadn't done yet. The year after that, I was pregnant with my first child and felt a little better about being celebrated because I was on the path to motherhood, but it was still early and very few people knew I was pregnant. I was still pretty sick at that point too. Obviously since then, I've had a child and been a mother, in a way that was obvious to everyone.
I've found there is so much pressure on those who are asked to give a talk or teach a lesson on Mothers Day. There is pressure to include everyone, women who have children at home, women who haven't been able to have children because of infertility, women who have grown children and some of whom are grandmothers, women who are unmarried or waiting to have children, women who never had children for whatever reason but have had motherly influences on others as aunts, teachers, leaders, etc. Yet, I've also felt that when you say "We're all mothers, no matter what" it at least somewhat minimizes the struggles and day to day sacrifices of those who are mothers. Let me say that when I tell people what the biggest adjustment about parenthood was for me, it was the relentlessness. Parenting does not stop. You may do all the same tasks: cooking, cleaning, changing diapers, reading books, etc as a babysitter, a nanny, an aunt or a grandmothers, but at some point, your shift is over and you give the kids back to their parents. When you're the parent, your shift never stops. You may get a few hours here and there where you're not performing the childcare yourself, but you are always thinking about it, thinking about what you need to teach your children, thinking about the responsibility you have for them. There is a never a break from that. And that is what makes parenthood different. So not every woman is a mother. (The conversation about when you become a mother is a separate one. I have friends who have lost babies or are birthmothers who placed their babies for adoption. I wouldn't dream of telling them that since they aren't caring for their children every day that they're not mothers. Same with how I wouldn't tell an adoptive mother that since she doesn't share genetics with her children, that she isn't really a mother. Like I said, that's a different conversation.)
Both my sister and my sister-in-law are very involved aunts in the lives of their nieces and nephews. They babysit the kids, take them out for special events, have them over for sleepovers, and care for all their needs in the hours/days the kids are with them. These women are performing mothering acts, having a motherly influence. My daughter loves her Auntie Katie so much and is just about as comfortable with her as she is with me. But, Katie isn't her mother, I am. At the end of the day, I am the one worrying about if Jilly is eating enough, if she is where she should be developmentally, if she has the clothes she needs, and so on. The aunts enrich the lives of the children and teach them many things, these kids are so blessed to have them! These ladies will make fantastic mothers when that day comes. But at this time, they're not mothers, and while their efforts are motherly and definitely valuable, they're not the same as those I make as a mother.
But on the other side, I definitely believe that all women are endowed with special qualities and abilities from our Heavenly parents that are those of mothers and motherhood. I believe every woman (and really, you could swap mother for father and motherhood for fatherhood throughout all of this) has the potential and the inherent qualities to be motherly. This is what I think people really mean when they say "We're all mothers." I think they mean "We're all motherly, because we are created in the image of our Heavenly Mother." This is where I absolutely feel it appropriate and important to recognize the motherly influences of all different roles.
Growing up, I had a great mother. She taught me not only day to day skills and modeled how to be a mother, but she taught me important character and spiritual lessons. I learned how to cook, a little bit of sewing, how to change a diaper, how to make hospital corners when making a bed, how to read, and so many more things. She also taught me, by example and by talking with me, to be confident in who I am and how I deserve to be treated, how to look for the fun and humor in life, how to find the silver lining, and how to examine and analyze a situation and look for the deeper meaning. I also had many other women in my life who have been motherly to me and influenced and taught me. When I was in college, especially the year I got engaged and married, there was a senior missionary couple at the Institute. The wife, Sister Smith, took everyone under her wing, and was an especial support to me during that time. She helped me get ready to go through the temple for my endowments and encouraged me, and most of all, was happy for me about my upcoming marriage. She filled a void with her mothering of me. I am grateful for hers and many other women's mothering efforts on my behalf. I have so benefited from them. But their influence and efforts and sacrifices, while amazing, weren't quite the same as my own mother's and I don't want to project the idea that they are equal.
I think this is the conflict of Mothers Day. Do we celebrate the efforts and sacrifices of mothers or the influence and divine nature of the institution of motherhood? That can be a personal decision for each person in their own family. This year, my husband made an effort to pamper me all weekend and tell me how much he appreciated all I did as a mother for our children. And when I wrote out the card to my own mother, I wrote it only from me and thanked her for what she did as a mother. I had my kids give her presents, hug her, kiss her, and tell her Happy Mothers Day, but it was mostly about me celebrating her efforts as a mother, not necessarily as a grandmother. But, when you're involved in a church or organization, as I am, and Mothers Day needs to be addressed by the group, how do you best do that? You want to value everyone and all their efforts, yet you cover such a large and varied group it's hard to do without annoying or offending or hurting someone. Here is how I think Mothers Day should be approached, at least in the context of my church.
I think all the talks in Sacrament Meeting should be about the divine nature of womanhood and motherhood. I want to hear about how all women are patterned after our Heavenly Mother and the qualities given to us from Her. I want to hear about the motherly influence each of us can have on others, no matter if we have born and raised children or not. I want it to be about those divine qualities of nurturing, spirituality, patience, faith, and love. I feel that is a way to include all women and celebrate Mothers Day for each of us. I do not want to hear about how being a mother is about teaching your kids how to clean the toilet or make jam or other tasks. I'm not saying those are bad things, but I do think making the celebration of Mothers Day, by the Church, about those things can only lead to offense and upset. Women without children will feel belittled and ignored because they can't do those things with their own children. Women with children will feel like they're being held up to a standard that is impossible to live up to and more discouraged about things that really don't matter, like how often they sweep the floor. Let's focus on the principles and divinity of the gifts of mothering, not on the nitty gritty details that vary for each woman and her situation. Sunday School, I would say to ignore it completely and just continue with the normally scheduled lesson. And for Relief Society and Young Womens, I have two ideas, depending on the ward. For either plan, I would like it if the men of the ward took over Primary and Nursery and all the sisters (including YW) could meet together (they could do this either only the third hour, or to have the biggest impact, have the men take over the 2nd hour Primary classes as well, so the women can go to Sunday School too). The first suggestion is to have a lesson on motherhood, in the same vein as the Sacrament Meeting talks. Let us celebrate the beautiful and divine influence we can have as mothers and motherly figures. Let us encourage those future mothers (whether they be the YW or just RS sisters who haven't had children yet) about how noble and rewarding motherhood is! Let us uplift all the women in the ward and recognize their motherly efforts. Let us truly bond as sisters and as women, daughters of Heavenly parents who love us and have given us so much. The second suggestion is to gather together and just 'take the day off', if you will. This happened in a few wards of my friends' yesterday. The women gathered in the cultural hall (or wherever) and got to sit and chat and socialize, while eating yummy treats, like a chocolate fountain or cheesecake. Sure, it's not deeply spiritual, but it would be so nice to have that opportunity for all the sisters of the ward to get to spend time together. I know it would be especially rewarding to those women who serve in Primary and Young Women each week, sacrificing the chance to go to Sunday School and Relief Society for their own spiritual nourishment, and instead work with small squirmy children and teenagers who resist all authority. Often these women feel so isolated from the Relief Society and sisterhood, and one day a year to congregate with and enrich those bonds of sisterhood could make a big difference.
This also leads me to another thing about Mothers Day that I take issue with. There is an attitude in the Church that women are saints and men are sinners. Look at the difference between the General RS Meeting talks and the talks given in the Priesthood session of General Conference. The women are vaunted and nearly beatified, constantly being told about how wonderful and long suffering they are. The men are told that they're constantly screwing up, like they're all viewing pornography and ignoring their Priesthood responsibilities. Overall, it's like "The poor saintly women have to put up with these sinful, dumb men." And then, when a woman leader does get up and not even harshly, but gently, call the women to task, she is ridiculed and excoriated and the cry of "How dare she say that! Doesn't she know that I can't do that because of these circumstances in my life?! We don't all live in that perfect world!" (Some of the uproar after Sister Julie B. Beck's "Mothers Who Know" talk a few years ago, comes to mind.) This attitude plays out on both Mothers Day and Fathers Day. Have you noticed the difference in how they are celebrated at church? When was the last time you heard a Sacrament Meeting talk on the third Sunday of June contain the phrase "We're all fathers"? Have you ever heard it? I don't know that I have. I do know that I've heard plenty of talks that still showcase a father's weaknesses and faults and make fun of them. How sad! So everything I have suggested for celebrating Mothers Day is meant to be applied completely equally to Fathers Day. (I feel that the attitude I've described also desperately needs to change, but this is another thing that is a conversation for another day.)
Mothers Day is a day to celebrate mothers as well as the institution of motherhood and influence of mothering. So much of the conflict and upset surround this day could be resolved, or at least ameliorated, by recognizing and acknowledging the divide in how the holiday is perceived and adjusted the celebrations thusly. What are your thoughts on any of this? How do you perceive Mothers Day? What do you want to see, in how it is celebrated, specifically at church? What is the purpose of the day? The conclusions that I have come to aren't hard and fast. I would like to other people's experiences and thoughts.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Exploring My Fears
Here I am, 34 weeks pregnant with my third child. You'd think I'd be an old pro at this by now, having gone through 3 pregnancies in 5 years. But I find there are fears each time you go through this. They are different with each baby, but the fears are there nonetheless. I've learned that if I give voice to those fears, type them out or say them out loud it takes away their power. I can talk myself through them and view them more rationally.
This baby is not coming when we had planned for her. After Jason was born, I said I wanted to wait until he turned 3 before trying to get pregnant again. I struggle so much with morning sickness and not only is it incredibly draining on myself and my husband, but I saw the toll it took on Jilly. There were mornings where all I could do was to lift her out of bed and hand her a cup of juice, before collapsing on the couch and barely moving for the next couple hours, except to throw up. I couldn't really care for her very well for weeks. That was probably the (emotionally) hardest part of his pregnancy. Because of that experience, I knew I wanted him and Jilly to both be older and more self-sufficient before we went through that again. But as I have learned, my plans don't always work out. Jason was 15 months old, so much a baby, still nursing frequently and not quite walking when I got pregnant. Jilly wasn't quite 4 and still not potty-trained. Steve had been out of work for almost a year at that point. HOLY COW. I spent that first night panicking. "What am I going to do? How am I going to handle two little babies and my preschooler who still needs so much? How are we going to afford this? How am I going to fit all three in our apartment or our car? Three is such a huge number!!!" My husband gave me the most hope. He was not just calm, but reassuring and excited. He told me he wasn't scared, things would work out, and how lucky were we for getting to have another baby? I put my faith in him and in my Heavenly Father, that this baby wouldn't have come unless it was for both her and our benefit.
The first trimester was predictably horrendous. I was sick so often, lost weight and all around was no fun to be with. But it was easier this time. You'd think that my husband being out of work would be a huge stress, but it ended up being a wonderful blessing. He was home full time. He could do everything that needed to be done: taking care of the kids 100% (well, 98%- I still would do Jilly's hair for school most of the time ;-)), cooking, cleaning, running to the store to get my prescription at 11pm on Friday night so I'd have it for work tomorrow, he took the kids to the Trunk or Treat because I couldn't get off the couch, etc. He is AMAZING. It not only made things easier on me, because I didn't have to be responsible for those things, but it also made things easier on me emotionally, because I could see that my kids were still being taken care of, just as they were used to. What a comfort that was!! Jason weaned himself only a couple weeks after I found out I was pregnant. I was a little sad about it, because I wanted to nurse until he was 2, but I was mostly relieved that I wouldn't be trying to breastfeed, grow a baby, and survive myself. I was still scared, because it was so physically taxing, especially with work (I was working three 12 hour shifts a week). But we made it through.
Once the morning sickness lifted, it was much easier to get excited. At the end of January, we found out Jilly was right all along; the baby is a girl! At the beginning of the pregnancy, we'd told Jilly we were having a new baby and she seemed to understand right away. The baby was in Mama's tummy and when asked if it was a boy or girl, she was adamant the baby was a girl. We even asked her what we should name the baby and she responded, "Ducky. Baby Duck." Which, of course, was adorable, so the nickname stuck and Ducky has been a much talked about person in our family. We also decided to plan for another out-of-hospital birth, but this time we decided to plan on the birth center in Kirkland. It's a little farther from our house, but not much. We toured it the other day and it is a beautiful place to birth our little girl.
Of course, now that the birth is looming before us, there is a new set of fears creeping up. I've been dealing with this awful hip pain during the whole pregnancy. It's been getting worse and sometimes gets down into my leg and knee, the joints/bones as well as the muscles. It has certainly made getting around even harder and I have to be careful about how much walking I do in a day, lest I really exacerbate it. The last few weeks have been the worst, and even driving hurts it (its my right hip/leg). I kept thinking that delivery would be the solution; as soon as the baby is off my pelvis and the bulk of the extra weight is off, it will be way less painful. That will definitely help. But it recently occurred to me that this might affect me while in labor. What if the baby settles into a position that puts a lot of pressure on my hip and I have to deal with awful pain there on top of contractions? What if I can't handle it and I feel forced into transferring to the hospital and getting an epidural? And worst of all, what if my pelvis is twisted enough that it won't allow her through/ into a position where she can get out, and I have to not only transfer, but have a C-section- just because of this hip? I'm not irrational about this; I recognize that these things may come to pass and if they do, they will be to appropriate choices. But they're not what I want and I worry about what that will do to me, not only physically, but emotionally. Recovering from a C-section will be a much different, and likely much more difficult, experience than I have gone through before. To do with when three small kids will be even harder. There's a whole host of risks that go along with any interventions and being forced into using them, means that the benefits outweigh the risks or that the risks of not intervening are higher. I loathe the idea that my baby might be in danger; who would like that?!
I hadn't mentioned these fears to anyone for a few days, then shared them with some friends and Steve and my midwife. I hadn't told her much about the hip pain until really recently (not sure why, I just hadn't), so I explained the pain and then told her about my concerns with the implications for the birth. She was really reassuring and reminded me about all the options I have before we get to those decisions. Both she and the apprentice midwife working with her, reminded me how soothing and pain-relieving water can be. I know that it can help with labor contractions (hence why I had Jason in a bathtub), but I hadn't considered what it might be able to do for the hip pain, especially if it's affecting my muscles. We discussed the other possibilities for transfer and how we would go about doing so, which hospital we would go to, method of transport, etc. And she told me something really important, in that they have to transfer multiparas (women who have given birth at least once) very rarely, around twice a year. It was so reassuring! We toured the birth center as well the other day and it beautiful. A very relaxing and soothing place, perfect for a birth.
Now that I've explored my fears, I'm feeling a lot better about the impending birth. There is still so much I don't know and can't control about how it will unfold. I'm just 3 weeks from being considered "full term" and it being okay for Ducky to come out. All the important things are figured out. Her car seat is in the car, clothes are gathered, childcare for the older two is set up, even bought newborn diapers and we've gone over plans with the birth center and midwives. There are still plenty of things to do, like pack our bags for the birth, wash her clothes and get a piece of furniture to store them in, reorganize my bedroom a little bit to fit her in easier, etc. But really and truly, if we didn't do anything more to prepare that just pack bags for labor (which will be minimal anyway), she would be just fine, it would just give us more to do after she was born.
Giving voice to my fears was the most important thing I could have done for them. By articulating them and sharing them with someone else, they have less mysterious power over me. I have talked through them and gotten reassurance about not only what to do if they come to fruition, but also had them put in perspective about how likely they are and what it really means in the end. I feel so much more at peace/ Now I can just focus on getting through these last few weeks and preparing to meet my Duckling. I can enjoy it, even. Before we know it, I will be back to having a newborn and adjusting to being the mother of three!! It's still daunting, but not paralyzing or terrifying. Now it's just an exciting challenge I want to meet.
This baby is not coming when we had planned for her. After Jason was born, I said I wanted to wait until he turned 3 before trying to get pregnant again. I struggle so much with morning sickness and not only is it incredibly draining on myself and my husband, but I saw the toll it took on Jilly. There were mornings where all I could do was to lift her out of bed and hand her a cup of juice, before collapsing on the couch and barely moving for the next couple hours, except to throw up. I couldn't really care for her very well for weeks. That was probably the (emotionally) hardest part of his pregnancy. Because of that experience, I knew I wanted him and Jilly to both be older and more self-sufficient before we went through that again. But as I have learned, my plans don't always work out. Jason was 15 months old, so much a baby, still nursing frequently and not quite walking when I got pregnant. Jilly wasn't quite 4 and still not potty-trained. Steve had been out of work for almost a year at that point. HOLY COW. I spent that first night panicking. "What am I going to do? How am I going to handle two little babies and my preschooler who still needs so much? How are we going to afford this? How am I going to fit all three in our apartment or our car? Three is such a huge number!!!" My husband gave me the most hope. He was not just calm, but reassuring and excited. He told me he wasn't scared, things would work out, and how lucky were we for getting to have another baby? I put my faith in him and in my Heavenly Father, that this baby wouldn't have come unless it was for both her and our benefit.
The first trimester was predictably horrendous. I was sick so often, lost weight and all around was no fun to be with. But it was easier this time. You'd think that my husband being out of work would be a huge stress, but it ended up being a wonderful blessing. He was home full time. He could do everything that needed to be done: taking care of the kids 100% (well, 98%- I still would do Jilly's hair for school most of the time ;-)), cooking, cleaning, running to the store to get my prescription at 11pm on Friday night so I'd have it for work tomorrow, he took the kids to the Trunk or Treat because I couldn't get off the couch, etc. He is AMAZING. It not only made things easier on me, because I didn't have to be responsible for those things, but it also made things easier on me emotionally, because I could see that my kids were still being taken care of, just as they were used to. What a comfort that was!! Jason weaned himself only a couple weeks after I found out I was pregnant. I was a little sad about it, because I wanted to nurse until he was 2, but I was mostly relieved that I wouldn't be trying to breastfeed, grow a baby, and survive myself. I was still scared, because it was so physically taxing, especially with work (I was working three 12 hour shifts a week). But we made it through.
Once the morning sickness lifted, it was much easier to get excited. At the end of January, we found out Jilly was right all along; the baby is a girl! At the beginning of the pregnancy, we'd told Jilly we were having a new baby and she seemed to understand right away. The baby was in Mama's tummy and when asked if it was a boy or girl, she was adamant the baby was a girl. We even asked her what we should name the baby and she responded, "Ducky. Baby Duck." Which, of course, was adorable, so the nickname stuck and Ducky has been a much talked about person in our family. We also decided to plan for another out-of-hospital birth, but this time we decided to plan on the birth center in Kirkland. It's a little farther from our house, but not much. We toured it the other day and it is a beautiful place to birth our little girl.
Of course, now that the birth is looming before us, there is a new set of fears creeping up. I've been dealing with this awful hip pain during the whole pregnancy. It's been getting worse and sometimes gets down into my leg and knee, the joints/bones as well as the muscles. It has certainly made getting around even harder and I have to be careful about how much walking I do in a day, lest I really exacerbate it. The last few weeks have been the worst, and even driving hurts it (its my right hip/leg). I kept thinking that delivery would be the solution; as soon as the baby is off my pelvis and the bulk of the extra weight is off, it will be way less painful. That will definitely help. But it recently occurred to me that this might affect me while in labor. What if the baby settles into a position that puts a lot of pressure on my hip and I have to deal with awful pain there on top of contractions? What if I can't handle it and I feel forced into transferring to the hospital and getting an epidural? And worst of all, what if my pelvis is twisted enough that it won't allow her through/ into a position where she can get out, and I have to not only transfer, but have a C-section- just because of this hip? I'm not irrational about this; I recognize that these things may come to pass and if they do, they will be to appropriate choices. But they're not what I want and I worry about what that will do to me, not only physically, but emotionally. Recovering from a C-section will be a much different, and likely much more difficult, experience than I have gone through before. To do with when three small kids will be even harder. There's a whole host of risks that go along with any interventions and being forced into using them, means that the benefits outweigh the risks or that the risks of not intervening are higher. I loathe the idea that my baby might be in danger; who would like that?!
I hadn't mentioned these fears to anyone for a few days, then shared them with some friends and Steve and my midwife. I hadn't told her much about the hip pain until really recently (not sure why, I just hadn't), so I explained the pain and then told her about my concerns with the implications for the birth. She was really reassuring and reminded me about all the options I have before we get to those decisions. Both she and the apprentice midwife working with her, reminded me how soothing and pain-relieving water can be. I know that it can help with labor contractions (hence why I had Jason in a bathtub), but I hadn't considered what it might be able to do for the hip pain, especially if it's affecting my muscles. We discussed the other possibilities for transfer and how we would go about doing so, which hospital we would go to, method of transport, etc. And she told me something really important, in that they have to transfer multiparas (women who have given birth at least once) very rarely, around twice a year. It was so reassuring! We toured the birth center as well the other day and it beautiful. A very relaxing and soothing place, perfect for a birth.
Now that I've explored my fears, I'm feeling a lot better about the impending birth. There is still so much I don't know and can't control about how it will unfold. I'm just 3 weeks from being considered "full term" and it being okay for Ducky to come out. All the important things are figured out. Her car seat is in the car, clothes are gathered, childcare for the older two is set up, even bought newborn diapers and we've gone over plans with the birth center and midwives. There are still plenty of things to do, like pack our bags for the birth, wash her clothes and get a piece of furniture to store them in, reorganize my bedroom a little bit to fit her in easier, etc. But really and truly, if we didn't do anything more to prepare that just pack bags for labor (which will be minimal anyway), she would be just fine, it would just give us more to do after she was born.
Giving voice to my fears was the most important thing I could have done for them. By articulating them and sharing them with someone else, they have less mysterious power over me. I have talked through them and gotten reassurance about not only what to do if they come to fruition, but also had them put in perspective about how likely they are and what it really means in the end. I feel so much more at peace/ Now I can just focus on getting through these last few weeks and preparing to meet my Duckling. I can enjoy it, even. Before we know it, I will be back to having a newborn and adjusting to being the mother of three!! It's still daunting, but not paralyzing or terrifying. Now it's just an exciting challenge I want to meet.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
One-Sided Sensitivity
There's something that's been on my mind for a couple years now and I've wanted to ruminate on it, but haven't yet taken the time to formally write it out. It surfaced again today, so I decided to take advantage of a quiet morning at work (thus far) to finally get it articulated.
I've been reading a couple blogs by LDS women about their struggles with infertility. I sympathize with them greatly. Infertility hasn't been an issue for me, but I can imagine the heartache that they feel and my soul yearns to comfort them somehow. However, there is this very common attitude that it's not fair for any woman to complain about pregnancy, because these women can't/haven't experienced it. That really rubs me the wrong way. We all should be compassionate and sensitive about someone's trials and no pregnant woman needs to drone on incessantly for hours about every single ache and pain (which I am guilty of-I am not pleasant when pregnant). But the pains and discomforts of pregnancy are real, and it's insensitive to discount someone's suffering, whatever it may be.
I don't mean to single out infertile women; I have encountered it also from women who have had miscarriages and/or premature babies. In a group of friends, whenever a lady in the late stages of pregnancy would vent about her ever-increasing discomfort and/or a seemingly minor worry about her child (if the baby had a cold, for example), one particular woman would always seem to comment, "Well I had my baby at 25 weeks and he barely survived and has all the long-term medical complications, so I don't know what you're complaining about." I find that attitude repulsive. To me the underlying sentiment was, "You don't know real suffering, and your fears are worthless because I have gone through so much worse." Perhaps I am interpreting the intention wrong, but that is how I perceive it.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Comparison
These first pictures are of my daughter's birth. It was a 14-hour, fairly uneventful labor, augmented with pitocin and AROM (despite going into labor spontaneously and contracting regularly), followed by an epidural and vacuum delivery.
I had an IV with continuous fluids and was confined to bed.
I look puffy and exhausted. Happy, but not elated. And that was how I felt. Drained, tired, beleaguered and glad it was over and I had my baby.
These pictures are from my son's birth. I was even more sleep deprived by the time he was born, having been through 6-8 hours of early but normal labor, 18 hours of prodromal labor, and 2 hours of very intense, active labor. It was all spontaneous and intervention free. It was the most difficult physical work I have ever endured.
But I look ecstatic, wide awake and very connected with what had just happened.
Both times I had greasy hair and no makeup, very unglamorous. But yet, I see the victory in the second set.
Shouldn't every woman feel like that?
I had an IV with continuous fluids and was confined to bed.
I look puffy and exhausted. Happy, but not elated. And that was how I felt. Drained, tired, beleaguered and glad it was over and I had my baby.
These pictures are from my son's birth. I was even more sleep deprived by the time he was born, having been through 6-8 hours of early but normal labor, 18 hours of prodromal labor, and 2 hours of very intense, active labor. It was all spontaneous and intervention free. It was the most difficult physical work I have ever endured.
But I look ecstatic, wide awake and very connected with what had just happened.
Both times I had greasy hair and no makeup, very unglamorous. But yet, I see the victory in the second set.
Shouldn't every woman feel like that?
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Nursing in Church
This post from Rixa got me thinking the other day. The post brings up the topic of breastfeeding in church. Rixa is also LDS so our frames of references are the same/similar. I was going to just comment, but before I knew it, my comment was turning into an essay. So I decided it was something worthy of a post.
Most mothers I know, go in to the Mothers Lounge to nurse and change their babies. I have only seen a mother nurse outside the Mothers Room a couple times. In our ward, we typically have several babies at any given time and there has been more than one occasion where I have been one of four or five women in the room, where there are only two chairs. Even though there is a speaker that enables us to hear the talks from Sacrament Meeting, it doesn't mean we will hear, either because we are chatting or there is a crying baby or whatever.
I always nursed Jilly in the Mothers Room. Always. Toward the end of our nursing relationship, I thought about nursing her in Relief Society, but never did because I felt a little uncomfortable with it myself and didn't want to offend any one else. But I have learned and grown a lot since then. Toward the end with Jilly, I started getting lazy and it was easier to hand her a bottle that she could feed herself, than to sit down and nurse her. She accepted either one just fine, so it didn't matter too much. When I was pregnant with Jason, I knew I wanted to be more dedicated to the nursing relationship. I want to nurse him longer (ideally 15-18 months, maybe more) and give him less formula overall. Because I already know how to nurse and am comfortable with doing it around others, I knew I didn't want to sequester myself while nursing the same way. Plus, let's face it. With your second child, you learn to multi-task while taking care of the baby, rather than stopping and taking time out to nurse or soothe your first baby.
I serve in the Primary organization. So for almost 2 hours, I am helping with the kids, conducting, leading music, teaching, and quieting wiggly ones. I often keep Jason with me, unless I am teaching. He usually nurses during Sacrament Meeting and again during the third hour of Church. If he wants to be fed during Primary, I usually just nurse him right there, with my nursing cover. It makes it so much easier for me. I can still be present in what is going on, answer questions, even give stern looks and instructions to settle down. ;-) I don't conduct or lead the music while I am nursing, not because any worry about exposure, but more out of comfort, because my arms get sore holding him without support! If I was in Sunday School or Relief Society, or serving in Young Women, I think I would do the same. Sacrament Meeting is the one place I don't regularly nurse in.
I have nursed once or twice in the chapel, during Sacrament Meeting. But I usually go to the Mothers Room. My husband and I have differing opinions on nursing during Sacrament Meeting. I want to do it, he thinks I shouldn't. He is in total agreement that it is quite appropriate to nourish my baby, the way Heavenly Father designed. His argument is that other people may be offended by me doing so, and even though I may be 'right', if I do something deliberately knowing that it may cause offense or distract them from their worship, then that is wrong and that sin is on me. I feel that I am magnifying the divine body that Heavenly Father gave me. He designed my body this way and intended for babies to nurse. I feel like that is glorifying my spirit, rather than doing something wrong or dirty. If I am doing what He intended, then I feel it is completely appropriate to do so during Sacrament Meeting, in the chapel. There are probably people in our ward (I'm assuming older folks) who would be shocked and possibly offended, but I don't care too much. That sounds awful and quite callous of me. I feel like I am justified spiritually in doing so, and if someone is appalled or offended then it is their problem to sort out and I would be happy to have a constructive conversation with them about it.
Another of the reasons I would prefer to nurse in the chapel is that I tend to lose out on the spiritual 'meat' of the meeting when I am in the Mothers Room. Just the disruption of getting up, gathering the diaper bag, walking out of the chapel, then coming back and doing it all again, takes away from my focus, as well as those around me. By nursing right there in the pew, there is minimal distraction and upheaval for myself, my baby (he often nurses to sleep, so the less movement, the more likely he is to sleep better), my family (Jilly won't freak out when I walk away, Steve doesn't have to be climbed over), and everyone else in the chapel. Since I am in Primary, and we are teaching young kids, I don't always get spiritually fed with more grown-up doctrine. Sacrament Meeting is my place for that nourishment.
I have a feeling that if someone was to notice and have a problem with that it would mostly come from a place of ignorance- it's just something they haven't seen much of. And just because someone hasn't seen something before, is not a good reason for me to not do it. In fact, it's a good opportunity for education; an example to children and youth about how to feed a baby, the way God intended. I am quite careful to be discreet and not flashing my breast for everyone to see. With the way the pews are set up in the chapel, most people wouldn't be able to see what exactly I was doing anyway. I think I will just do it from now on. If someone has a problem with it, they can speak with me, and I would love to talk about it. I feel the same way about this, that I do about being asked to nurse in a restroom at a restaurant. I believe it is not only okay, but should be encouraged. After all, I nurse at home with no problems, and we have been told that our homes are second only to temples in sacredness.
Most mothers I know, go in to the Mothers Lounge to nurse and change their babies. I have only seen a mother nurse outside the Mothers Room a couple times. In our ward, we typically have several babies at any given time and there has been more than one occasion where I have been one of four or five women in the room, where there are only two chairs. Even though there is a speaker that enables us to hear the talks from Sacrament Meeting, it doesn't mean we will hear, either because we are chatting or there is a crying baby or whatever.
I always nursed Jilly in the Mothers Room. Always. Toward the end of our nursing relationship, I thought about nursing her in Relief Society, but never did because I felt a little uncomfortable with it myself and didn't want to offend any one else. But I have learned and grown a lot since then. Toward the end with Jilly, I started getting lazy and it was easier to hand her a bottle that she could feed herself, than to sit down and nurse her. She accepted either one just fine, so it didn't matter too much. When I was pregnant with Jason, I knew I wanted to be more dedicated to the nursing relationship. I want to nurse him longer (ideally 15-18 months, maybe more) and give him less formula overall. Because I already know how to nurse and am comfortable with doing it around others, I knew I didn't want to sequester myself while nursing the same way. Plus, let's face it. With your second child, you learn to multi-task while taking care of the baby, rather than stopping and taking time out to nurse or soothe your first baby.
I serve in the Primary organization. So for almost 2 hours, I am helping with the kids, conducting, leading music, teaching, and quieting wiggly ones. I often keep Jason with me, unless I am teaching. He usually nurses during Sacrament Meeting and again during the third hour of Church. If he wants to be fed during Primary, I usually just nurse him right there, with my nursing cover. It makes it so much easier for me. I can still be present in what is going on, answer questions, even give stern looks and instructions to settle down. ;-) I don't conduct or lead the music while I am nursing, not because any worry about exposure, but more out of comfort, because my arms get sore holding him without support! If I was in Sunday School or Relief Society, or serving in Young Women, I think I would do the same. Sacrament Meeting is the one place I don't regularly nurse in.
I have nursed once or twice in the chapel, during Sacrament Meeting. But I usually go to the Mothers Room. My husband and I have differing opinions on nursing during Sacrament Meeting. I want to do it, he thinks I shouldn't. He is in total agreement that it is quite appropriate to nourish my baby, the way Heavenly Father designed. His argument is that other people may be offended by me doing so, and even though I may be 'right', if I do something deliberately knowing that it may cause offense or distract them from their worship, then that is wrong and that sin is on me. I feel that I am magnifying the divine body that Heavenly Father gave me. He designed my body this way and intended for babies to nurse. I feel like that is glorifying my spirit, rather than doing something wrong or dirty. If I am doing what He intended, then I feel it is completely appropriate to do so during Sacrament Meeting, in the chapel. There are probably people in our ward (I'm assuming older folks) who would be shocked and possibly offended, but I don't care too much. That sounds awful and quite callous of me. I feel like I am justified spiritually in doing so, and if someone is appalled or offended then it is their problem to sort out and I would be happy to have a constructive conversation with them about it.
Another of the reasons I would prefer to nurse in the chapel is that I tend to lose out on the spiritual 'meat' of the meeting when I am in the Mothers Room. Just the disruption of getting up, gathering the diaper bag, walking out of the chapel, then coming back and doing it all again, takes away from my focus, as well as those around me. By nursing right there in the pew, there is minimal distraction and upheaval for myself, my baby (he often nurses to sleep, so the less movement, the more likely he is to sleep better), my family (Jilly won't freak out when I walk away, Steve doesn't have to be climbed over), and everyone else in the chapel. Since I am in Primary, and we are teaching young kids, I don't always get spiritually fed with more grown-up doctrine. Sacrament Meeting is my place for that nourishment.
I have a feeling that if someone was to notice and have a problem with that it would mostly come from a place of ignorance- it's just something they haven't seen much of. And just because someone hasn't seen something before, is not a good reason for me to not do it. In fact, it's a good opportunity for education; an example to children and youth about how to feed a baby, the way God intended. I am quite careful to be discreet and not flashing my breast for everyone to see. With the way the pews are set up in the chapel, most people wouldn't be able to see what exactly I was doing anyway. I think I will just do it from now on. If someone has a problem with it, they can speak with me, and I would love to talk about it. I feel the same way about this, that I do about being asked to nurse in a restroom at a restaurant. I believe it is not only okay, but should be encouraged. After all, I nurse at home with no problems, and we have been told that our homes are second only to temples in sacredness.
Monday, March 30, 2009
My Birth Dream
Yesterday my friend Stephenie gave birth to her second child, a daughter named Eden, at her home. Within hours of the birth, she was online posting her birth story. What an amazing story it was! She had endured a long, traumatic and dramatic birth with her first child in a hospital. This birth took less than 1/10 of the time of her son Keagan's. After reading Eden's birth story and being inspired by it, I had a dream about the upcoming birth of my second child. I often dream about giving birth and breastfeeding, but it usually happens with no warning (I don't previously realize I'm pregnant or in labor) and I never feel a connection to the baby once it's born. This dream was much different. Here is what I remember about it:
I think I was in a hospital setting, it was definitely not my home or my family's (where I do plan to give birth). My mom, sister and step-dad were all there, but my husband was not. I'm not sure if Jilly was around or not. In the dream, I was laboring, with an understanding of what was going on. The midwife or nurse checked my progress and told me I was 6cm dilated. Almost immediately after that, I got up from the couch, and my water broke. As soon as that happened, I felt a great deal of pressure; there was no longer a cushion of the amniotic sac. I started saying, "Ow! Ow!" My mom understood what I was feeling since she had given birth three times, but Katie and Paul were confused. In an effort to explain the feeling to them, I said, "It's like a watermelon sitting on top of a Dixie Cup, trying to come through. In fact it's almost exactly like that, in terms of size." My mom then ammended my statement slightly, "Yes, but in this case the Dixie cup stretches to accomodate the watermelon." Very shortly after that, I was sitting on the toilet, urinating, or so I thought, when I got this feeling that I needed to reach down and check on the baby. Sure enough, my hand felt a head coming out and with that realization, the baby came slipping out right into my arms. I pulled the baby right up to my chest, utterly astounded at what had just happened! Once the baby started coming out, I didn't feel any pain, but I could feel the baby coming out of my body. Someone then reminded me to look to see if it was a boy or girl (because we still don't know). I looked between the legs to find, I had another little girl! I was surprised but overcome with love for this daughter who was just born into my arms. We all took a few minutes and then I realized, with a shock, that Steve was still at work and had missed the birth of his daughter! I quickly called him and told him he needed to come see his daughter. He said, "Yeah I know Jilly wants to see me, but I'm busy. I'll be there soon." "No, not Jilly. She's fine. I mean your other daughter. She just arrived!" His reaction surprised me, first he was really angry that we hadn't called him earlier, but I tried to explain to him that it happened really fast and we didn't have time. I was unsure whether or not he was being sarcastic; he does that sometimes. But after a couple minutes, he calmed down and said he'd be there shortly. I went back to looking at my baby. She was really really skinny and all wrinkled. Her eyes were very big and she, honestly, wasn't that cute. It dawned on me that the reason she looked that way was because she was a preemie (she had a classic preemie look); I had just given birth at like 26 weeks or so. The midwife I wanted to have at the birth hadn't been there either. I got really worried about the baby, but she was apparently doing fine. Later in the dream, I came to get the baby from another room and she had plumped out all sweetly and was much cuter. There was more to the dream, but after this it went off in a strange direction.
Soon after that part of the dream, Jilly woke me up. She had ending up in bed with me this morning, and was doing her best to make sure I was aware it was daytime. But all I wanted to do was escape back to the dream, so I could see and be with my baby girl. I was still in awe of what I had just dreamed. Now, most of the details of the dream were directly lifted from Stephenie's story, so I don't take them to mean anything in particular. But what surprised me then and continues to do so now are the feelings that I had during the dream. I was so in love with this baby and completely at peace with my decision to birth that way. I felt inspired and connected, not only to the baby, but spiritually as well. I never have strong feelings like that in a dream, so it was quite different. Also, in my dreams about childbirth, I never know who the baby is. It isn't quite my child, I don't feel a connection to it. But in this one, I knew it was my daughter and I was so thrilled to have her there.
I don't know if this is a sign that this labor will be short and I will have a girl, but I do feel so much more secure with my decision to have a home birth. I can't say that I've felt any promptings against this decision, but the feelings I felt during this dream were more of a confirmation. My mind has worked itself through a labor and delivery (at least in part) and I feel like I have a better idea of what to expect. I know, it sounds farfetched to take all that from a dream. But why not? It's not the dream itself, it's the feelings. Like I keep saying, it wasn't one of my normal dreams. This was different. And I have to assume it was different for a reason. Now I am so anxious for this baby to arrive! I am excited to go through labor, not just as a means to an end, but I want to experience the process in a more first hand way this time. I have been fairly sure that we are having a boy, but after this dream, having a girl seems right too. I want to know if Wildcat will be a son or a daughter.
I think I was in a hospital setting, it was definitely not my home or my family's (where I do plan to give birth). My mom, sister and step-dad were all there, but my husband was not. I'm not sure if Jilly was around or not. In the dream, I was laboring, with an understanding of what was going on. The midwife or nurse checked my progress and told me I was 6cm dilated. Almost immediately after that, I got up from the couch, and my water broke. As soon as that happened, I felt a great deal of pressure; there was no longer a cushion of the amniotic sac. I started saying, "Ow! Ow!" My mom understood what I was feeling since she had given birth three times, but Katie and Paul were confused. In an effort to explain the feeling to them, I said, "It's like a watermelon sitting on top of a Dixie Cup, trying to come through. In fact it's almost exactly like that, in terms of size." My mom then ammended my statement slightly, "Yes, but in this case the Dixie cup stretches to accomodate the watermelon." Very shortly after that, I was sitting on the toilet, urinating, or so I thought, when I got this feeling that I needed to reach down and check on the baby. Sure enough, my hand felt a head coming out and with that realization, the baby came slipping out right into my arms. I pulled the baby right up to my chest, utterly astounded at what had just happened! Once the baby started coming out, I didn't feel any pain, but I could feel the baby coming out of my body. Someone then reminded me to look to see if it was a boy or girl (because we still don't know). I looked between the legs to find, I had another little girl! I was surprised but overcome with love for this daughter who was just born into my arms. We all took a few minutes and then I realized, with a shock, that Steve was still at work and had missed the birth of his daughter! I quickly called him and told him he needed to come see his daughter. He said, "Yeah I know Jilly wants to see me, but I'm busy. I'll be there soon." "No, not Jilly. She's fine. I mean your other daughter. She just arrived!" His reaction surprised me, first he was really angry that we hadn't called him earlier, but I tried to explain to him that it happened really fast and we didn't have time. I was unsure whether or not he was being sarcastic; he does that sometimes. But after a couple minutes, he calmed down and said he'd be there shortly. I went back to looking at my baby. She was really really skinny and all wrinkled. Her eyes were very big and she, honestly, wasn't that cute. It dawned on me that the reason she looked that way was because she was a preemie (she had a classic preemie look); I had just given birth at like 26 weeks or so. The midwife I wanted to have at the birth hadn't been there either. I got really worried about the baby, but she was apparently doing fine. Later in the dream, I came to get the baby from another room and she had plumped out all sweetly and was much cuter. There was more to the dream, but after this it went off in a strange direction.
Soon after that part of the dream, Jilly woke me up. She had ending up in bed with me this morning, and was doing her best to make sure I was aware it was daytime. But all I wanted to do was escape back to the dream, so I could see and be with my baby girl. I was still in awe of what I had just dreamed. Now, most of the details of the dream were directly lifted from Stephenie's story, so I don't take them to mean anything in particular. But what surprised me then and continues to do so now are the feelings that I had during the dream. I was so in love with this baby and completely at peace with my decision to birth that way. I felt inspired and connected, not only to the baby, but spiritually as well. I never have strong feelings like that in a dream, so it was quite different. Also, in my dreams about childbirth, I never know who the baby is. It isn't quite my child, I don't feel a connection to it. But in this one, I knew it was my daughter and I was so thrilled to have her there.
I don't know if this is a sign that this labor will be short and I will have a girl, but I do feel so much more secure with my decision to have a home birth. I can't say that I've felt any promptings against this decision, but the feelings I felt during this dream were more of a confirmation. My mind has worked itself through a labor and delivery (at least in part) and I feel like I have a better idea of what to expect. I know, it sounds farfetched to take all that from a dream. But why not? It's not the dream itself, it's the feelings. Like I keep saying, it wasn't one of my normal dreams. This was different. And I have to assume it was different for a reason. Now I am so anxious for this baby to arrive! I am excited to go through labor, not just as a means to an end, but I want to experience the process in a more first hand way this time. I have been fairly sure that we are having a boy, but after this dream, having a girl seems right too. I want to know if Wildcat will be a son or a daughter.
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