Did you know...

Did you know that the US has the highest obstetrical intervention rates of any country?  Or that in studies comparing home vs. hospital births, home births, supervised by a “trained attendant”, indicate fewer deaths, injuries and infections?  Did you know that respiratory distress in newborns was 17 times higher in hospitals than in the home? Did you know all that?  I didn't...  at least not until I actually took the time to do the research.

There were several reasons, including the ones I stated above, why I chose to have my baby at home this time around.  Truth be told, first and foremost was my desire to have a water birth.  I have always been interested in the idea of having a baby in what I felt would be the calmest, most peaceful and most comfortable environment (for my baby and myself) and a birthing tub was not something that could be provided for me at the hospital.

I also felt the need to completely take any unnecessary interventions and any pain meds out of the equation.  I did not want to risk getting a nurse who pushed or encouraged epidurals and I didn't want to be told that I needed pitocin just because I "stalled" for a bit. I knew full well what my body was capable of, what it was meant to do, and I wasn't about to let anyone tell me anything different. 

And after my 1st official appointment with my midwife I felt even more assured that I made the right decision.  The absence of any "medical office scenario" was so promising and comforting. I found myself sitting on a cozy couch, discussing my pregnancy with my midwife in what was their "normal" casual manner and all I could do was smile with excitement and anticipation of what was to come.  My future birthing journey...  one that I can not wait to share with all of you. 

Home is where... (you finish this sentence).

My Home.  

Say those words to yourself, out loud, and tell me what comes to mind?  What do you think about?  

I think about my family... the loves of my life.  I think about comfort and peace and love. 

When I found out I was pregnant I hesitated before calling my OB.  I wasn't in a hurry to get a blood test confirmation because I was already 100% sure and I could pretty much pinpoint my due date so the only other thing was seeing my itty bitty on an ultra sound.  And I had plenty of time to do that.  Plus I started to question whether or not I was going to go my usual route of Dr./hospital birth. My Choice...  remember?  I sure did. 

Before I got pregnant I told myself that IF it were to happen again I would attempt a HVBAC, (Home Vaginal Birth After Cesarean) or Home Birth.  And there was a large part of me that never thought it would happen... oops!  ;)

The end of May fast approached and I figured no matter what my birthing plans would end up being I should at least go in and get checked.  So I called my OB and made an appt. to go in the 1st week of June.   I didn't mention my thoughts about potentially having a home birth and instead I made an appt. to go back a month later...  I was just letting things happen.   I was letting the decision be made for me and I wasn't changing things.  My husband was naturally opposed to the idea, but after everything positive that had happened in the past he was much more open to hearing my thoughts and feelings about it.  And he kept the door open to the idea.   

I wound up speaking with 2 of my girlfriends who I considered to be pros at home birthing and asked them for the names of the midwives who delivered their babies.   I decided I owed it to myself to at least go meet with them to get a better feeling before making a final decision.  And I wanted my husband to meet them as well.  I called their office to get some information and to make an appt. to come in and was told that I would have to sign an arbitration agreement if I decided to home birth with them.  Huh?  Really?  But I was told to never sign one of those...  hmmmmmm.  I casually said thank you and ended the conversation.

I couldn't get it out of my head...  Add to that the fact that I was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of leaving my OB.  He was my dr. for years and I trusted him implacably.  I didn't want to have that conversation with him...  I wasn't ready to "dump" him. So I went to my 2nd appt. and made a 3rd for the following month. 

I continued to speak with friends, soliciting advice, and after one conversation specifically where we talked about the arbitration agreement I realized that all I was doing was letting these so called "obstacles" just stand in my way of going for what I really wanted.  It was time for me to stand up once again and follow my gut.  My heart. I called the midwives office back, that day, and set the meeting for my husband and I to go in for a meet n' greet.  And it went off without a hitch.  They definitely sold me and somewhat sold my husband.  Enough for me to make an appt. for my next check up and to work up enough courage to call my OB to break the news.  I decided to have my baby at home.  My Home. 

Charmed, I'm Sure.

My 3rd pregnancy was...  different.  To say the least.  

I was sicker than ever and the word exhaustion took on a whole new meaning.  My feelings toward being pregnant drastically changed.  

Before this I actually considered becoming a surrogate I loved being pregnant so much.  That was a thought that quickly vanished once my nausea completely took over and I was so sick I could barely move.  And, as many of you mommies out there know, is not easy when you have 2 toddlers running around that you need to keep up with.  Most days it took every ounce of energy I could muster to just get out of bed. Thank god for my amazing and fabulous husband who got up almost every morning to start off our babies day with a healthy breakfast.  I literally had to force myself to eat to maintain any sort of strength and that was not an easy task.  Within the year prior to getting pregnant I became a vegetarian and with this pregnancy my food choices decreased even more.  Food grew to become my worst enemy and my body was literally running on fumes.  

My triumph of the day was getting my daughter to and from school and getting dinner on the table.  Thank goodness she only went 3 days/week.   I drank more coffee than I thought I should and it didn't help much at all.  I knew it was because I wasn't eating much of anything...  Cereal, peanut butter n' jelly sandwiches and mac n' cheese became my staples.  And on occasion as much as I'm ashamed to admit, I did resort to eating some meat.  My body craved it.  Ugh, gross.  So gross. 

Sleep was something that I no longer looked forward to.  My baby boy was still up often throughout the night and for the most part would only sleep if he was cuddled up right next to me.  Now, the majority of the time I would never mind cuddling with him, but when my belly began to grow and my discomfort levels rose the last thing I needed was an 18-month old toddler who liked to roll and kick in his sleep.  And then when he would finally fall asleep, after moving around and climbing all over me for literally hours, he landed right on top of my face.  Yep, his head would literally rest on my face and that's where he would try to fall asleep.  And this continued pretty much throughout my entire pregnancy.  The only changes were I began to move him off me when he was asleep and most of the time he stayed asleep.  And if I was feeling extra brave I would let my husband try to carry him back into his own room to put him back into his bed.  Ha, that never worked.  This was the way we slept, up until the night my baby was born.  

I also have to admit that my faith constantly wavered.  I found myself questioning a faith that I believed in so strongly.  Why would God give me this baby when I truly felt that I couldn't be ready?  Why was this happening?  I needed answers.  I needed reasons.  I needed clarification.  And I wasn't getting any of it.  Well, at least not during my pregnancy. 

I know I've pretty much bitched and complained this entire blog entry about how rough my pregnancy was, but at the end of it all I was happy.  I knew I had an itty bitty being growing in my belly and that alone was worth every moment of icky-ness I was feeling.  And after all those moments of questioning my faith and my abilities to take this on, I did convince myself that everything would work out.  How?  Ha...  who the hell knew.  Only time would tell. 

The Official Announcement.

May 13, 2010

The first time we got pregnant, it was an answer to our prayers. 
The second time was our very own little miracle. 
And our third time??? Well... our third time's a charm! ;)

Happy Mother's Day!

Mother's Day 2010...  May 9 to be exact.  Exactly 1 month from the 1st day of my last period...  

We spent the day with family at my mom's house.  It was a beautiful day so we spent the majority of it outside, chasing the kids around.   It was a pretty relaxing day...  and we had family visiting from out of town as well.  All in all a pretty fab day.  There was only 1 thing missing.  My period. 

When the end of the day arrived and there was not one single sign of it, I pretty much instantly knew.  And I didn't know what to think.  I told myself I would take a pregnancy test the next day, if my period didn't come.  Admittedly I secretly hoped it would.  But knew deep down it wasn't going to. 

So when Monday rolled around and I was still period free I took a deep breath, peed on a stick and waited.  And there it was...  staring at me.  A big fat, "Pregnant"sign.  I was stunned.  And stood there frozen.  I'm... pregnant?  Again??  In my heart of hearts I was happy, but at that moment I couldn't believe it.  And I wasn't sure I was ready.  Haha, well...  ready or not!?!  

I immediately called my husband at work to tell him the news.  And while on the phone I burst into tears.  Not because I wasn't happy about the little being growing in my belly, but because I was just so mixed emotionally.  I thought about my sweet baby boy and how it would affect him.  I wasn't as concerned about my daughter since she is older, but I found myself in the same situation as before, wondering how this would affect my nursing relationship with my son.  At least I had the full 9/10 months to prepare!  :)

I did not plan on having a 3rd baby.  I did not plan on having a 2nd baby for that matter.  I put it all in Gods hands and there I was...  growing another baby in my belly.  Here we go again! 

Our life.

Shortly before my daughter turned 3 we enrolled her in preschool.  We found a great school with a low student to teacher ratio which would result in her receiving a lot of 1 on 1 attention.  We felt confident she would thrive and her enthusiasm for going assured us we did the right thing.  And having that little bit of extra time to spend with my baby boy was pretty priceless. My heart was so warm.  And so happy. 

My daughters 3rd birthday was a pretty big milestone for me.  I was so happy to see my baby girl grow and yet so sad to see the same.  Her turning 3 coupled with the fact that my baby boy just turned 1 left me crying tears of so many emotions.  I felt like time was being taken from me and I wanted to just hold on and stand still.

We were coming up on early April (2010) and were scheduled to fly to the east coast to visit my IL's.  We were definitely looking forward to the trip, but for some reason I just couldn't pull myself together to get us all ready.  I felt like it was "Moving Day" all over again.  Why, I wondered??  I had no reason to feel anything but totally excited!!  I'm thinking it was the fact that I started my period the day before we were supposed to leave...  I was probably having some bad PMS and on the day I started was having god awful cramps.  Labor pain cramp like.  Left me stopped in my tracks while trying to make lunch for my babes.   Thank goodness I was able to rally through and as they slowly went away my anxiety turned to total excitement!!  Our packing was almost completely done and I couldn't wait for my husband to get home so we could finalize plans for early the next morning.  I wasn't happy about traveling while on my period, but after all was said and done, it wasn't even a blip on my radar.  We always had a great time when we visited the IL's and I was excited to be taking my babies there for the 1st time!!  A little worried about the airport/plane ride, but just figured my husband would help keep our daughter company and I would just nurse my son when he needed/wanted.  It was a full proof plan that worked like a charm.

Our trip was a total success.  We had a super fabulous and uneventful time.  I was feeling pretty great and and pretty proud of my awesome little travelers for adjusting so amazingly.  The time change didn't mess with us much and we were all back to our daily life in no time.  My daughter went back to school, my husband went back to work and my baby boy and I spent more time together.  Our lives, the lives we created, felt fulfilled.  But...  I was definitely ready for our next adventure.  Whenever that would be. 

You have a boy and a girl... you're done, right?

C'mon... how many of you have heard this??  

It seems to be the 1st thing people say to you when they A) find out you have 2 or more children and B) that you have at least 1 boy and 1 girl.  And when I would say, "I don't know" or "we'll see", I would get a look that I must be crazy.  Really?  Is it so crazy to actually want more babies??  

The truth was I didn't know.  All I knew was that my son was really high maintenance and was still, at 16 months, not sleeping thru the night.  He slept in our bed for the most part and woke up frequently throughout the night to nurse.  He was nearing in on 18 months and in my mind that was the magical age where life gets a little easier...  so, did I want more babies?  Did I want to go through all of this again?  

Well, no matter what answer I came up with, the one constant was I had no plans for birth control.  I pretty much decided I was done with all that noise after going through what we did to get pregnant the 1st time.  I just didn't think about it...