The story of Maggie's birth

On the occasion of her 4th birthday, I am naturally reflective on the day I became a mother. I realize that I have never told any of my birth stories on this site. Given my love of birth and interest in becoming a doula, I feel compelled to share my stories. This is the first, the rest will follow in time. Be advised, this story is not for the faint of heart. Here goes...

I was on the phone with a friend on Tuesday, September 19th around 9pm. I stood up after the call ended and felt a little gush of fluid. Nothing huge, but big enough for me to take notice. At 38 ½ weeks, I excitedly hoped this could be it! I called my midwife who said it was likely urine (even though it didn’t smell like urine) or a pocket of fluid. She thought is probably wasn’t my bag of waters. Overnight I had irregular, mild contractions. Enough to keep me from sleeping well, but by morning they had stopped.

Wednesday morning 9/20, Jim went into work. I worked from my home office but called my boss, telling her that I thought things were happening and told her I wouldn’t be working that afternoon. I had some irregular contractions that morning, but no real labor pattern. I still had a small trickle of fluid. After lunch, I took a couple long walks to try and get contractions going. By 1:00, the leak of fluid was pretty regular but I was still without a true labor pattern.

I checked in with my midwife later in the day who suggested I go to triage at the hospital to have them confirm if it was my amniotic fluid leaking. Jim suggested we go out to dinner first, in case they decided to admit me, and then at least I would have a good meal in me. (He actually remembered that from our Bradley classes). I decided on Thai food hoping the spices would kick things into gear. No luck.

We went to Good Samaritan Hospital around 8 pm on Wednesday, where the midwife on call confirmed that I was leaking amniotic fluid and checked my cervix – I was 2 cm dilated. When asked when my water broke, I fibbed and said I couldn’t remember exactly (another Bradley tip). When asked when I noticed a constant leak, I told the truth – around 1 pm. They offered to admit me at that time, but I wanted to go home and try some other methods to get labor to start, so I declined. I was told to come back at 1:00 am for induction.

My spirits were crushed at this point. I had wanted an unmedicated birth experience and didn’t believe that would be possible with Pitocin. So I called my friends who all lit the candles they received at my Blessingway and ask that they start to pray. I hooked myself up to the breast pump hoping the release of oxcytocin would get contractions going. I spoke with my doula who suggested taking Castor Oil if the nipple stim didn’t work. I took a “shot” of Castor Oil around 10:00 pm and tried to get some sleep before heading in. Sleep alluded me though, not because of contractions, but because I was worried about the possibility of pit and the cascade of interventions that typically follow.

As we were getting in the car to head in for induction, I felt that my Castor Oil might be kicking in and made a trip to the bathroom. And wouldn’t you know, we weren’t even out of our driveway when mild contractions started coming 5 minutes apart! When we got to the hospital, my friend and midwife Cheyenne greeted us. I trust her completely and was so thankful she agreed to attend my birth. The doula, Heather, also met us there. I was only 3 cm when I checked in, but because contractions had started Cheyenne was comfortable not giving me pitocin. So we walked and walked and walked the halls some more, trying to keep contractions coming. They were mild at this point and I could still talk through them.

Around 4 am, I tried to lie down and get some rest but this caused contractions to nearly stop. The nurse came in and said, “Cheyenne is thinking about giving you some pitocin to get things going.” Upon sensing the threat of pit, my body and the baby were moved into action! Contractions started up again, at a higher intensity. I ate some fruit and listened to my labor music. I learned that Heather, my doula, was also a big Dave Matthews fan. Cheyenne and I have been to a lot of DMB concerts together, so the three of us sat around talking Dave. As things got more intense, I moved to the birthing ball and the nurse monitored fetal heart tones with the doppler. The nurse hooked up my antibiotics (since my water had been broken for so long) and I had a cervical check. I was about 7 cm.

Things were pretty stable and Jim went down to get some coffee around 6:30 am. While he was gone, my doula suggested I might enjoy a hot shower, so the nurse went to warm it up. All of a sudden, I had an urge to sit on the toilet. Not to use the bathroom, but to SIT ON THE TOILET – it was the only thing I wanted to do. As I was sitting, a huge gush of water filled the pot. The bag of water between the baby’s head and my cervix broke. Still wearing my street clothes at that point, I became very hot, agitated and felt confined around my neck. Sitting on the toilet and stripping my clothes off, I saw Cheyenne out of the corner of my eye – she was grinning ear to ear and gave two big thumbs up to my doula out in the room. Intellectually, I knew that I was heading into transition and my loosing modesty was a good thing. But I found my midwife’s enthusiasm about my current state quiet annoying at the time.

And then it gets a bit blurry from here on out. As I walked back to the bed, I had intense contractions with every step. The nurse told me the shower was ready but there was no way I could walk that far, so I collapsed onto the bed. Jim was back now and sat next to the bed, stroking my arm, telling me what a great job I was doing. I remember the doula rubbing my feet. I felt hot and dizzy and I saw Cheyenne reach for the emesis basin – “Why is she doing that?” I wondered. And seconds later, I vomited. This was the only time I wanted to strangle Jim because he commented, “Looks like a fruit smoothie!”

Contractions were very intense and coming one right after the other with very little rest between. I was exhausted. The pain was intense. I was dizzy. This was not like anything I ever imagined. There was no way I could take any more. I would look at Jim and say, “I can’t do this!” to which he responded, “You ARE doing it!” Jim led me through a guided imagery that helped me focus on the task, relax and open up.

Then I felt downward pressure and the urge to push. Cheyenne had left the room to check on another birthing mom. I remember sitting up, very seriously, and asking “Okay, what is going on? What are we doing? ” Heather, my doula asks, “Do you feel like pushing?” Lying on my left side, I started pushing. At some point, Cheyenne returns. I pushed for about 45 minutes and experienced the “ring of fire” as described. It took every ounce of energy I had. Some people say pushing is a great relief. I think those people are nuts. It was intense, hard work!

At 10:46 a.m, September 21, 2006, my world forever changed and I started the journey of a lifetime – motherhood. I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Margaret Grace weighed 8 lbs 12 oz and was 21 ¾ inches long. She was immediately placed on my chest where she promptly peed all over me! She had a head of thick black hair, a thick coat of vernix, her eyes were shut tight and she wailed. We were covered in warm towels and snuggled up together – tears running down Jim’s nose and sweat running down my cheeks – we were a family!

Relief! She is here, healthy and perfect!

Labor support from some amazing women

Afterglow

Maggie turns Four!

It is hard to believe that my first-born baby girl is four years old today! She has changed so much in the past year, gaining independence, expanding her vocabulary, and becoming more imaginative and creative. Maggie is a sweet, sensitive kid who takes her role as biggest sister very seriously. She loves music, especially dancing to "Daddy music" and playing air guitar. She's grumpy when she wakes up and sometimes the tags on her clothes are very bothersome, much like mom. Maggie spends most of her days acting out various stories of witches, princesses, Dorothy and such. She loves to draw rainbows and practice writing her name. She is considerate, compassionate, serious at times - silly at others. I am so proud of her and can't wait to see what the next year has in store! Happy Birthday Mag!

One

Two

Three

Four!

Baby girl is 6 months!

It's hard to believe Anna is six months old! The first half of her first year has just flown by! Anna checked in at 17 lbs (75th percentile) and 26.5 inches (80th) at her appointment today. She's growing steadily along her curve, but remains the smallest baby we've had. She might actually get to stay in the infant car seat for most of this first year.

Anna is a total joy! She is pretty easy going, probably by necessity. She has been so patient as I've struggled with breastfeeding supply in recent weeks. Anna will play by herself contentedly while I'm tending to the needs of her big sisters. Her face lights up and she grins from ear to ear when she's showered with love from Maggie and Claire. She is super snuggly when she's sleepy and I am treasuring the way her tiny head sits in the crook of my neck.

Anna wasn't so sure about this whole solid food business in the beginning, but is now an enthusiastic eater! She loves squash, sweet potatoes, apples and oatmeal. Anna prefers to hold the spoon and feed herself. She must have gotten the idea from Claire who constantly says, "I do it my own self!" It's funny, this is the third time I've started solids with a baby and I feel like I've forgotten everything! I am keeping it simpler this time and (gasp) am buying Anna's baby food. I just do not have the time for the pureeing food/ice cube tray freezing routine I did with Maggie and Claire. Hopefully, she won't hold it against me!

As soon as Anna becomes more steady in her sitting, I'll be taking her for some chunky-baby-in-a-diaper portraits. In the meantime, here are some mealtime highlights.

Flying on my broomstick

We're big fans of the Wizard of Oz in this house. Maggie and Claire listen to the soundtrack every day and occasionally we will watch scenes from the movie on YouTube. So there is a lot of Dorothy and Witches happening in their pretend play. Here's a sample of Claire's recent witch adventures.

First Day of School

Maggie and Claire started school this week! Maggie is in the four year old class, three days a week. Claire hangs with the two year olds, twice a week. The first day was a success! Claire's session was only an hour long the first day which was for the best. There were tears at drop off and pick up, but that is to be expected I suppose. Maggie is in the same room again this year which is a good thing for her. She enthusiastically entered the classroom and waved goodbye, a marked difference from last year. So far, her review of school is mixed. She comments a lot that things are different, but can't verbalize how or what.

In the parking lot today, we saw some friends who were in Maggie's class last year. I've never seen her so happy to see a friend! She was jumping up and down and hugging these little girls - something my shy one rarely does. My take is she was pretty happy to see some familiar faces. I'm confident she'll grow to feel that way about her current classmates!

Here are pictures of the first day:

Maggie picked out her own outfit - 4th of July outfit and Easter Egg socks!

Hello September!

August was a rough month in the Farwig household! I don't think I've ever been so happy to welcome a new month. The females in the house were stricken with a stomach virus, which stuck around for over two weeks in Claire. The volumes of diarrhea that girl produced was like something out of a horror movie. And it always seemed to strike in the middle of the night or early morning hours, requiring a complete bed linen change. So for days, Claire started every day before 6 a.m. This bought of illness coincided with Claire's transition to a big girl bed. As expected, this came with lots of testing of the limits and popping out of bed after being tucked in. Poor thing has been so exhausted for weeks!

In recent weeks Claire showed major interest in going potty, so I had her in training pants and decided to run with it. Well, needless to say, the diarrhea put a halt to that effort. But we are slowly getting that train back on track. There's nothing quite like trying to breast feed a baby with one hand and wipe a toddlers rear with the other! Potty-training is not fun, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and look forward to her independence in this arena.

Jim took a business trip in August as well, so I was single parent for 5 nights in the midst of our illnesses. It was a long and lonely week but we all made it through. My parents came down for a night with my niece Bixie who was visiting them, so that was loads of fun, plus it gave me a chance to run some errands by myself which quickly lifted my spirits.

Also in August, our house had a visit from the binky fairy. Maggie's binky was lost, somewhere in the house actually. After a few days, she declared, "Well, my binky is lost forever. I think the binky fairy should come tonight." So Jim and Maggie wrote a note to the binky fairy (while I frantically ran to the neighborhood Kroger to buy a toy) and Maggie drew a picture of her bink. We tucked the note in a box and set it on her dresser. The next morning, the note was gone and a tiny Tinkerbell doll was left in it's place. An excited Maggie, hurried downstairs that morning to introduce Tinkerbell to all the other princesses in the house. The initial adjustment to no bink was easy, but the past few days have been harder for Maggie. She has been waking in the middle of the night and having trouble putting herself back to sleep. So I've been teaching her about deep breathing, and trying some guided imagery to help her relax. I'm hoping lots of love and snuggles, along with praise for putting herself to sleep will help her navigate this transition.

In addition to fighting the bug the girls had, I have recently been diagnosed with asthma. In an attempt to get that under control, I've tried all sorts of new medications and inhalers. Unfortunately, some of these drastically effected my milk supply. I have never had an issue with my supply before, so this has been weighing heavily on my mind. Of course, all advice I find online or in books says, "If your supply is low, just lay around with your baby and nurse all day." Um, sure. 'Cause that's so easy to do with two older siblings who need constant attention. I have been nursing often and taking some supplements so things are improving on that front.

Another example of my post-pregnancy immune system going hay-wire is my recent development of food allergies. We were at the pool this summer and I took a bite of the girls' kiwi, which tasted very funny. Within ten minutes, I had tingling in my throat and was vomiting in the bath house of the pool. Blood testing revealed additional allergy to tree nuts, which I have never liked, so that's not really an issue. My doctor prescribed an epi pen and informed me that if I have a reaction like that again I need to take the epinephrine and call 911. This development has caused lots of anxiety for me - what else could I possibly allergic to that I've never reacted to in the past, like the kiwi? What happens if I have a reaction while I'm home alone with the girls?
Fears like these occupy a lot of my mind. On the plus side, I'm loosing weight with all this!

It is after difficult patches like these when I often get reflective. I think of my grandmother who had 10 children, no washing machine and a husband who, I can only assume because of the generation he was a product of, was not "hands-on" like mine is. She did it, she survived, and raised some pretty successful people in the process.

I think of my cousin Jeanne-Marie, whose husband traveled weekly throughout their 25 year marriage. Earlier this month, at the tender age of 50, she lost her fight against brain cancer leaving behind four children, the youngest still in high-school. She loved her family fiercely. She was involved in her church community and passionate about her beliefs. She lived every last day to the fullest.

These women are inspiration in their own way. I am not looking for a medal for what I do. I choose to stay home with my children and consider myself fortunate enough to do so. But three kids under age 4 is hard work! It is exhausting, redundant, and mind-numbing at times. So often, modern motherhood seems to be a competition where everyone tries to one-up the next person. Where we are all "Keeping Up with the Joneses" and projecting perfection (especially in the blogosphere). I am far from perfect. I loose my patience, get crabby, doubt my decisions, and can sometimes develop a martyr complex.

I am doing the best I can, one day at a time. Trying to treasure the special moments, however infrequent they are. Trying to remember the big picture. I am trying to be in the present moment, to live honestly, and love fully. For this is the only life I have!