Isabelle's birth story--the long version--Part 5

This entry is for the Giving Birth--A Defining Moment series on The Mom Pledge Blog. Other birth stories can be found here: http://www.themompledgeblog.com/2012/05/defining-moments-you.html

I've been working on Isabelle's birth story for the last week or so now and it's quite a lengthy one with five parts. Part 5 is the formerly short version of Isabelle's birth story. Before reading that, you may want to read the story of her sister's arrival: http://theworldofnatalie.blogspot.com/2006/02/miss-natalie-has-arrived.html because it shaped how I wanted Isabelle's birth to be (which was the exact opposite of her older sister's birth). If you get a chance, read the other parts of Isabelle's birth story which you can find on this blog, part 4 especially since I do feel that part 4 was the turning point of the whole thing. Without some of the events that happened during that part, I don't think I would have gotten the birth I worked so hard to get though having the support from ICAN and other online groups during my pregnancy helped greatly as well and helped educate me so that I could make the decisions I needed to make and be confident in those decisions as well. And of course, reading of other positive deliveries for women of size on The Plus Sized Pregnancy Website helped reassure me during those times I especially felt vulnerable due to blatant size discrimination in articles and posts I saw online.

Without further ado, here is Isabelle's birth story.

Saturday, July 17th was my due date and it had more or less come and gone without too much in the way of contractions or anything. I would have some here and there but maybe three an hour and nothing that I couldn't handle. I couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. I knew that there was a chance I would go past the due date since I had with Natalie but with Isabelle being in a good position and everything, I had gotten kind of hopeful that she would come earlier. It wasn't so much that I was impatient for her to come out because realistically, I knew that babies are harder to take care of outside than in but I was concerned that if she took too long to come out that my chance of a VBAC would end up being none and everything I did up to that point would be for nothing. I tried not to think about it though knowing that I still had three days before we even reached the gestational age Natalie was born at.

Sunday morning, the contractions I had been having all day Saturday started getting more intense and more in the back so I started to think that maybe this was it. I woke my friend (and acting doula) Tami up and she came down to help me out. After some time, she told me I should give the midwife a call and she would start boiling water for the pool so we could add some hot water in. She also added some hot water with the hose, getting water all over in the process. I gave the midwife a call and she said she would be on her way. When the water on the stove start boiling, Tami started to bring those down and add them to the pool. Eventually, the water warmed up enough that I was able to get in but Tami continued to boil water so that we could heat it up more since it was still a little cool. It was nice being in the tub and the labor calmed down a little but still continued. Neither one of us was really keeping an eye on the timing of the contractions, but we knew that we were still more or less at the beginning. I had music playing in on the computer and just in general, I was sort of veggie out, trying to remain relaxed and prepare for what would be coming up ahead.

Brenda, the midwife, arrived. The plan was that she would stay and help with labor as a montrice where basically, she would be labor support but she could also check on me and on the baby and she could check dilation. I had determined beforehand that I would get as close to transition as possible before going to the hospital. For sure, I wanted my dilation to be past where I had gotten with Natalie before I ended up with the cesarean. It was very important for me to reach that point and I did not want to go to the hospital before that at all. Still, we also wanted to not do checks too often so somehow, we had to sort of make a balance there.

I was talking to John when she arrived and she said "hi" to him and to Natalie. She wanted to check on me and the baby so I laid down on the bed in order for her to do that. Blood pressure was fine but it took her awhile to find the baby's heartbeat and I was a little nervous about that. I had been feeling Isabelle moving around so she had been fine but I know too that things can happen very quickly so I was worried that something was wrong but she did find the heartbeat and all was well. At some point, I went offline, telling him I would call him again if there was more and most of the time, I just focused on getting through the contractions in various ways. Tami gave me a lot of suggestions including walking around and made sure I was eating and drinking making me a cantaloupe smoothie and refilling my water bottle. Around 7, I started to get tired and thought I would try to get some sleep. I was able to sleep a little, maybe a couple of hours and woke up and the contractions had settled down. Brenda and I decided to do a check to see where I was at and I was pretty disappointed to hear I was only at 1 cm. How frustrating! Here, I thought that the contractions not just that morning but also from Thursday night on had been doing something. She did say that I was pretty effaced, just not dilated much so something was happening, just not much dilation, at least not yet. So, we talked and she was thinking that the baby was working on getting into position and that was why I was having the contractions but that she's probably not in the ideal position for dilation yet. Therefore, she suggested that I go to the pool, get on hands and knees and use that to help things out and maybe that would get things going better. She also recommended taking more of the cal/mag that I had been talking and Tami had some supplements to help with relaxing as well so that I could get more sleep. She left and I went back to bed, sleeping off and on until around 2pm.

I woke up and decided I would try to get to the pool. Tami agreed to drive me and when I finished getting ready, she had decided we would all go (encouraged by her five-year-old daughter). We went to the pool and I spent the time just relaxing in the water and trying to encourage Isabelle to move into the right position. I was having some contractions here and there but not very many, just a few or so per hour. We didn't spend too long there but it was nice to get out to the pool and have that time to relax, especially since I knew that it would probably be the last time I would get to the pool anyway.

At around 1 or 2 am, I was up with contractions again. They were in my back which was not making it easy on me. I woke Tami up and she started boiling water again. I walked around and did other things to try and help with the contractions and the back pain. Tami helped with that too, rubbing my back when I was having contractions. It was pretty similar to the night before and eventually, they started dying down and I was getting tired. Throughout the day though, I would wake up with contractions and eventually, I figured out that whenever I needed to pee, I would get a contraction and my back would hurt. By this point, it was REALLY hard to pee. I would have to lean to the side to really get much out and I wasn't feeling comfortable at all since by this time, the contractions were mostly in my back. Nothing steady or regular but I was in pain. I called Brenda mentioning that my bladder filling was causing the contractions and she suggested going to a chiropractor to get some help with baby's position through an adjustment. Tami scheduled an appointment for me and we left around 5 after Tami made me a really yummy green smoothie with dates and lots of greens. The car ride wasn't too much fun though with the contractions I was having and leaning back in the seat was definitely not comfortable.

The chiropractor was actually someone I had gone to school with which I thought was kind of funny. He noticed that my back (especially lower back) was pretty tight but my pelvis was nice and loose and he figured I would have the baby in the next three days. He asked me when I was due and I told him "two days ago." He mentioned that that meant he wouldn't have to be careful avoiding certain areas while working on my back. He was a little surprised to hear that I had not seen an OB in two weeks (I canceled my last appointment) and felt I needed to get in ASAP. I had figured that if I hadn't had the baby by the next day, I would since it would be past the gestational age Natalie was when she was born but the chiropractor seems very nervous especially since I was attempting a VBAC and Natalie had weighed almost 9 and a half pounds. He worked on my back a little, trying to loosen things up but he didn't do much in the way of actually adjusting me. He then recommended a cold pack and to come back if I hadn't had the baby by Wednesday.

Before going home, we stopped at the food coop for some stuff. We stopped at the bathroom first and I ended up in there for awhile after they left dealing with some contractions. It really was not fun needing to pee that day because it would trigger a contraction each time. Things did seem to be getting slightly more intense so I was having to do a little more to get through them. I called Brenda while I was there and she recommended getting some more rest and maybe even getting some wine to help with relaxing. If things were still the same, maybe book another chiropractor appointment. At this point, I was almost dancing with the contractions and leaning forward against the shopping cart. I'm sure I was getting some fairly weird looks while I was there but I wasn't paying too much attention. I did remember to pick up some massage oil since John had finally sent me money so I did that and then we all went home. I had some dinner and a little bit of wine which made me sleepy. Thinking I would try and get some sleep, I took an ice pack down to the room with me, put it to my back and tried to get some sleep.

I did sleep for maybe an hour or so before waking up to contractions. Not wanting to wake Tami up yet again, I tried to relax and go back to sleep, readjusting the ice pack. Didn't work. I kept going back and forth to the stairs to lean over them during the contractions. I was also constantly going to the bathroom (thank goodness I didn't have to go upstairs to do that because that would have been such a pain!) so I was walking from the bedroom to the stairs to the bathroom getting more and more frustrated and aggravated and just plain to the point where I could not deal with it anymore. I wanted the baby out NOW! and was thinking that I didn't care HOW she came out either! I was tired and the thought of another night of this back pain was enough to drive me insane. I was swearing, groaning, almost screaming in frustration and even anger, calling out to a higher power, and the whole bit hoping SOMETHING would happen. Finally, I had had enough and called Brenda and told her that I couldn't take it anymore, it was getting too hard, it hurt too much and I really just couldn't do it. She told me she would come up, check me out, and we would talk and see what our options are. After I got off the phone with her, I called Tami--again.

This time, I had no desire to go into the pool so I told her not to even bother with the water. Just had no interest in it at all. Tami helped me through some contractions rubbing my back and I would just lean forward. She went upstairs and I had some contractions and was using the stairs again for those. Unfortunately, I dropped that idea entirely when, during one of my contractions, a spider ran out at me! I screamed! Mind you, I'm not a big fan of spiders and having one run out at me almost in my face during a contraction was not a fun day, let me tell you. That idea abandoned, I went upstairs. Tami suggested trying some things out during the contractions, one of which just didn't work for me. I really could not be in any position where I was either straight or leaning back at all and definitely could not be on my back. Anything that got me leaning forward was the best. But I kept trying things out and what I was doing was leaning forward at the counter in the kitchen and sort of lightly bouncing from one foot to another while Tami rubbed my lower back hard. That helped out a lot. The rubbing part was VERY important in helping the back labor and without that, I would not have gotten through those contractions. I also focused a lot on the swirls in the counter; that also seemed to help a lot. I also walked around and that was okay but leaning forward was definitely the best position for me.

Around two or so, my water broke. Now, it wasn't a gush or anything and I wasn't sure if it was my water but I was feeling trickles coming down and my panties were getting pretty wet. I was also getting more bloody show and had gotten a bit of mucus at one point too. Tami gave me a pad and I put that on so that I wasn't leaking all over. She made me a drink of apple cider vinegar and honey and I was drinking that. She also made sure I was drinking water and getting some food in me, I think a banana and maybe some grapes too. By the time Brenda arrived at around 3:30 or so, things were getting more intense. I was noticing that the contractions were getting closer together and were getting longer. It didn't seem like there was much time at all between the end of the one contraction and the beginning of the next.

We decided to do a vaginal check on me. That wasn't easy because I kept having contractions and it HURT to be on my back, I could not stand it AT ALL! But I was able to get on my back for a little bit, long enough for her to check me and she told me, "You are farther along than you were with Natalie!" I was SO HAPPY! I had reached a big milestone for myself and that really helped me emotionally to continue on. She also checked my blood pressure and on the baby and we both were doing well. I still had contractions to get through and both Tami and Brenda helped me through them encouraging me and giving me suggestions like making low sounds and encouraging me some more and rubbing my back and making sure I drank and got to the bathroom. Around 4, Tami decided to take her daughter to the babysitter's and I decided it was time to call John since I figured it wouldn't be long before we would leave for the hospital. I called him and he told me he was still half an hour from home. That was about all I could really do because the contractions were making it hard to talk so I passed the phone to Brenda. Not much was said though and the call ended pretty soon after that.

Contractions were getting closer and closer together and it wasn't very long before I asked her to do another check since I was feeling that it was time to go to the hospital. I think it was close to 4:30 and I was at 8 cm. Tami came back shortly after that and we got things together to get to the hospital. I didn't call labor and delivery, sort of forgot about that but I was well beyond the "call when you get contractions 5 minutes apart" rule that the OB had given me (which was part of the plan, HELLO, was NOT going to be at the hospital for interventions any longer than I had to!). I followed Tami out to her van and I remember it was still dark and quiet out since it was not quite 5am. I got into the back of the van and into the seat on my knees sort of leaning over the seat. Tami starts driving and I watch everything go by the window while having contractions and sort of wonder what would happen if we were to get pulled over.

We get to the hospital and Tami drives past the ER, which had been moved, and drove towards the area where the old ER used to be. I reminded her that the ER had been moved and that she had driven past it. She ends up having to turn around to head back to where the new ER is. We pull up and she opens the door and I get out. I didn't have my shoes on so I walk to the desk bare foot. I let the person at the desk know that I'm there to have a baby and I was already registered. It took a little bit for her to understand and get things going, especially since I had failed to call L&D (gee, sorry, was a little busy having CONTRACTIONS!). Brenda comes in and before too long an orderly (or nurse? who knows!) shows up with a wheel chair. I get in. Tami goes to park her car and Brenda follows (or maybe it was the other way around?! I forget now!). I'm having contractions while the guy is wheeling me down the hall and he tells me that I have to wait because he's NOT ready to deliver a baby for the first time! lol I thought that was pretty funny. It was a LONG trip though! Goodness! We had to go down all these halls, to an elevator, up a couple of floors, down more halls, to the skywalk, across the skywalk, to another elevator, up a couple more floors, and down more halls until we get to L&D. Then, they're about to wheel me into room #4 when I say something about how I keep ending up in that room! In fact, it's where I was when I was in labor with Natalie and it's where I had been just a couple of weeks ago when I got sent up to L&D to check on the baby because her heartrate was just a little high. So, instead of taking me to room #4, we go into room #2 and he wheels me in saying excitedly, "She's having contractions 1 minute apart!" Brenda leaves, going with the orderly to get back to her car since she had been called to another birth and Tami stayed (she had caught up with us by then). I get out of the wheel chair and into the bathroom where I get changed into a gown. By now, it's past 5am.

I get settled and then it's time to start dealing with the fun stuff. Bleh. They're asking me questions, half I don't even remember now but some of them were just stupid like whether I was taking prenatal vitamins. Someone comes in to take my blood (the vampires have to get in before daylight, you know!) and the nurse decides that I need to be tested to determine if the fluids leaking are in fact from the amniotic sac. This meant lying on my BACK! Did I mention that it HURT to lie on my back, especially during a contraction? It was not fun having to lie on my back a FULL MINUTE for this stupid test. Then, they want to do a vaginal exam. That I should have declined but I was kind of focusing on other things so wasn't really thinking at that point. A resident comes in and he checks and then the nurse checks and they stand and talk for a moment to come to a consensus and finally they decree, "5 cm!" Um, WHAT?! I was at an 8 when I left the house! Tami mentioned later that she had forgotten to warn me about this, that other people may not come to the same conclusion as to how far along I was. Then comes the fun part. I have to get an IV. I HATE IVs. I got one with Natalie and it was worse than the stupid contractions! I did not want one.

"The doctor won't even work with you if you don't get one," the nurse tells us. I should have called her bluff but again, wasn't quite thinking of that at that point. I was sort of like fine, just get it over with but do it right! Unfortunately, the nurse I had did not do it right. She tries my right hand and blows the vein. Great. Not only did it hurt like heck but now, I'm bleeding all over the place and she has to do it again. So then she tries my left arm. And AGAIN, blows the vein. Um...okay, you want me to have an IV but you can't get it in? The OB comes in at that point with the resident doctor and the first nurse and starts giving me this whole spiel on how I'm such a high risk patient and that normally they would recommend that I just have a repeat cesarean and blah blah blah blah blah. I end up signing yet ANOTHER form saying that I will not hold anyone responsible if something were to happen in my attempt at a vaginal birth and my baby ends up harmed or killed in the process (or something to that effect). The OB leaves the room. The anesthesiologist comes in. Thank goodness it's the one I had spoken to just a couple of weeks ago. She's really nice and she had been great answering all of my questions for me. I asked her what was in the IV and she told me that it was just nutrients and stuff like that. She gave me a numbing shot in my hand, waited a minute or so, and then put the IV in and that time it took and it didn't hurt at all! Now, why can't they just use an anesthesiologist in the first place instead of a nurse?!

Then she leaves and the first nurse is trying to monitor the baby. I refuse to go on the bed because I did not want to lie down. I sat in the large comfy chair that was in the room but I try not to lean back much because, again, it hurt. Trying to use a belt on me was impossible so she had to hold the monitor to my belly. I try to cooperate as best as I can but also try to remain as comfortable as possible during the contractions. Tami had grabbed some of my stuff including the massage oil and she had put some on my back after asking me if that was what I wanted. When I wasn't getting checked for something, I would tell her to rub my back whenever I had a contraction. I was almost demanding about it too! A contraction would hit and I would say, "Rub!" I guess that's kind of one of those signs of intense labor, the laboring woman doesn't say "please", lol. Still, other than a number of "Oh l---!" and maybe some "OM-", I really didn't do much swearing, if any. I think I was kind of shy about that or either that or I really do just swear when I'm angry. lol

I was kind of worried because it had seemed like the contractions backed down a little. They didn't seem to be quite on top of each other as they were before I left the house. I also sort of entered a quiet stage, I seemed to be more focused inwardly or something. It's hard to describe. Even though I was at the hospital though, the thought of drugs didn't really enter my mind, even when I was told I was only at 5 cm. I was glad to be clear headed and it was definitely much easier to deal with the pain NOT being under any drugs, even IV meds. Fortunately, no one said a thing about drugs or even suggested them and I kept getting through the labor one contraction at a time.

Not long after that, I had this urge (WARNING: TMI) to poop. It was a very strong urge so I went into the bathroom and I tried to go but it was like having the WORST case of constipation EVER. I could not poop. Not at all. But I was feeling the urge so I was pushing, trying to poop. I had also been pushing a little here and there during the labor as I felt the urge to. Nothing major but just bearing down a little here and there. This urge started to get stronger but sometimes, if I did bear down too much, it would sting a little so I would stop. But the urge kept getting stronger. Around 7, there was a shift change and I got two of the SWEETEST nurses EVER. They were GREAT. They encouraged me to lean on them and just gave me some great support. Tami was there giving me support too and it was just the four of us women in there. I was still getting the urge to poop and getting very restless because of it. I wasn't really feeling any back pain anymore just this incredibly insane urge to poop! I ask to be checked and one of the nurses checks me and tells me I'm at 8 cm. I tell them I feel like I have to push and the nurse tells me not to but I really could not hold back so I keep bearing down kind of during the contractions (having read a number of articles talking about the wisdom in listening to our body when it says to PUSH!). At one point, and I have NO IDEA why I did not think of this before, I squat down next to the bed because it just seemed like a good thing to do. lol I think by this time, I was going mostly on instinct or something. I tell them to check me again because it feels like the baby is going to come out! One of the nurses checks me while I'm squatting and tells me that I'm complete! Tami's all excited, saying, "You can push now!"

So, I'm thinking, okay, I'll push right here! lol And I sort of tell them that and the nurses are like, "Oh no no, you have to get in bed!" Aww man! So, I get up into the bed, and I mean, really, she feels like she's very close to coming out, like I don't even have to push and she's going to come out any moment now but I get into the bed, on hands and knees, butt towards the bottom of the bed. People are rushing in, the OB (who I am sure is surprised that I'm already ready to push) is telling me what position to be in! You have got to be kidding me! I have to get OFF the bed?! I had to get off the bed, go to the side of the bed, get back in and scoot down with my butt at the bottom of the bed before I can push! FINALLY, he says push and I'm like OK! I push with everything I have but pull back a little when I feel some stinging then push even more. I felt a head passing through, then a shoulder, and then this very weird slippery feeling as the rest of her body passes through and Isabelle makes her grand appearance!

"You did it!" Tami says and I sit there in shock as I realize that I just gave birth vaginally, an experience that I did not get to have when I had Natalie just four and a half years before. It was the most amazing thing in the world and I had never felt so empowered in my life. I have a baby! It was simply amazing! And with that feeling came a high like I had never felt before.

Isabelle had some out a little on the slimy side. Unbeknown to us, she had passed meconium and was COVERED in it, and I mean covered, she was GREEN. lol But she was healthy and crying and had a full head of hair just like her sister did. I was still kind of in shock due to everything happening so quickly so I didn't think to demand that she be handed to me instead of her being taken over to the warmer to be suctioned out and stuff. In the meantime, the OB was waiting for the placenta to be ready to come out and when it was, he told me to push again, and it came out quickly and easily. He sort of tossed it into a pan and that was that but I was just kind of absorbing everything and still getting used to the idea that I had a baby. He had to stitch me up as I had a second degree tear so he did that and there was a short time there where we were separated but it wasn't too long before they brought her over to me and I was able to look down at this precious little bundle. It took me a few minutes more before I thought to nurse her and the nurses helped me get situated so I could do that. She latched on and nursed like a champ. The wishes I had in my birth plan regarding the Vitamin K shot, the Hep B shot, and the eye drops were respected, I just had to sign a waiver which they gave to me right there to sign. Eventually everything got done and everyone left and that's when I remember that I never did get the computer set up and online so that John could watch the birth so I got that set up and I also started making phones calls to let everyone know that Isabelle had arrived.

And yes, believe it or not, that IS the short version. lol I'm sure I have already forgotten things and left things out but I did the best I could remembering everything that happened in those three days. I have no doubt at all that I would not have been able to do this if I had not had the wonderful labor support I did. Tami especially was amazing waking up for me in the middle of the night, three nights in a row, boiling water and bringing the pots down the stairs to the rec room, making sure I ate and drank, and in general, being very supportive and encouraging when I needed it most. Brenda was great as well and I totally appreciated the time she took to come up and be with me as a labor support and to help me stay at home as long as possible. I wish everything had come together for a homebirth but this was the second best scenario and it as well as it could go considering everything I had to go against (including massive weight biases). I had gone through SO much on this journey and learned a lot about myself along the way. I'm confident now that if I do become pregnant again, I can find a way to have the birth I want to have and that what I need to have a successful birth is a good support team. That is what EVERY woman should have.

And of course, it wouldn't be a birth story without a picture:


This was taken the day we went home from the hospital when she was two days old.

Isabelle's birth story--the long version--Part 4

Now that I was back in the United States, the first thing I needed to do would be to find a provider who would support my desire to have a VBAC. That was easier said than done, sad to say. In my town, there are two hospitals. I had had my older daughter at one of the hospitals and decided that I would look into the other hospital to have this baby. The OB I had when I had my older daughter had left the area so I figured maybe a new hospital would be just what I needed. I was also trying to look into a midwife but wasn't having the best of luck there. A lot of this I was trying to do while I was in Korea and I didn't have my birth records with me which made it more difficult for anyone to really know what had gone on when I had my older daughter.

Now that I was in the US, I could really get going. I didn't have much going on because I was staying in a hotel and after I saw everyone the first night I arrived (after a very long, grueling, international flight from Korea to Japan, Japan to Minneapolis, Minneapolis to my home town) I was pretty much left to myself so I called up OB/GYN at the first hospital and scheduled an appointment, hoping to maybe get set up with a midwife there. When I get to my first appointment, the nurse was kind of surprised to hear I was already over 30 weeks. I guess I didn't look that far along because of the extra weight but I was and was very much showing in front but the weight kind of hid it too. They did the glucose testing then and there and I failed it (my fault, I think I over did the Oreos the night before) so they wanted to set up the three hour test at some point during the next week. I was also set up with an OB. I had to see her before I could even see a midwife. In the meantime, I tried to stay with my older sister to save some money on the hotel because it was costing me $200/week. I was there a week already and that had ended. I stayed at my sister's for three days before I realized that it was better for me to stay in the hotel where I was closer to everything, especially since I was trying to watch what I was eating so that I wouldn't fail the three hour test when I finally had it done.

So, Sunday the 16th of May I was back at the hotel and I had appointments scheduled for the next week which included the evil nasty 3 hour glucose testing and an appointment with an OB. The three hour test, as I figured, was evil. I hate needles, hate having my blood drawn, tend to freak out about it. When I had it done during my pregnancy with my older daughter, I almost passed out. I went white, had a bunch of nurses surrounding me with washcloths, had to lie down in another room for about 20 minutes to get my blood pressure back up, in general did not do well. And I would have to endure three or four blood draws. The sugar stuff made me sleepy. I was falling asleep in the waiting room waiting for the blood draw. During the one drawing, the nurse got particularly rough with my inner elbow, rubbing it raw. It just didn't give me warm fuzzy feelings, that's for sure. I wasn't sure about going to this hospital. I had never heard the greatest things about it in as far as its OB/GYN department but wanted to have a clean slate so to emotionally when trying for my VBAC. Should have just gone with the devil I knew, you know?

My appointment with the OB was the next day, I think. I had passed the test (one worry off my mind) but apparently, that didn't matter. My BMI was too high, according to this OB (a woman), and therefore, I would need to have a repeat cesarean scheduled. Before this conclusion, she basically berated me for several minutes as to why I would even want a VBAC, pulling out the dead baby card by saying that because I was SO FAT it would take them up to FIVE MINUTES LONGER to get to my baby if something happened that more than likely my baby would die and I didn't want my baby to DIE, DID I? I kind of mentioned something along the lines of well no, but a cesarean could kill ME but I don't think she heard me. She just went on and on and about risks and how my chance of success were SO LOW because of my HIGH BMI that it was just TOO RISKY for me to even TRY to have a VBAC. So, in other words, I wasn't even going to get a trial of labor. When she passed me off to the nurse, she told the nurse to schedule the cesarean. I had had my birth plan already written up to show her and the nurse wouldn't even look at it. I cried. I had gone through SO MUCH getting to this point and I felt emotionally crushed and I just cried. I don't think I even scheduled it, just scheduled a bunch of appointments and maybe went through a few things for the birth plan (in as far as a cesarean) and then I left, kind of out of it. When I got back to the hotel, I started thinking and I started getting MAD. HOW DARE SHE?! No, I was NOT going to put up with that kind of attitude. I did NOT travel 6000 miles to have this WOMAN treat me that way! That was NOT why I came back to the US!

I called a friend of mine, Tami, and talked to her and it wasn't long after that that she presented an idea that I feel was the absolute turning point of the whole thing. She offered me a place to stay for the summer (I was actually looking into doing a sublease deal for the summer because I had no other options for housing) and she offered to help me out with the midwife she had had when she had her youngest daughter (who was born right around the time I conceived my older daughter). We had actually met on ICAN back when I had joined after Natalie was born and had kept in touch off and on throughout the last four years. I was really surprised that she offered to take me in considering we didn't know each other THAT well but she truly is one of those people who helps those who are in need whenever and however she can. So on Sunday, May 23rd, she picked me up from the hotel and we went down to Iowa for my first appointment with the midwife. Brenda was awesome. We talked a bit and made plans to see each other again. I made plans to get my medical records from Natalie's birth. In the meantime, as we were trying to figure out how to get it all to work, I made an appointment with OB/GYN at the other hospital since we weren't sure if it could all be pulled off and I was getting into my 33rd week of pregnancy. So I went in in early June (due date was July 17) to get something set up.

The OB I was put with was okay. It was a male which I wasn't sure about in the first place (feel more comfortable with females in general). But, on the whole, he was a little more positive and supportive about my chance for a VBAC than the last OB was. While his recommendation would be for a repeat cesarean, he felt that if he did not at least support my attempt to have a VBAC, I would just leave and go to a midwife and he felt that was even more dangerous (crickets kind of sounded after he said that because that was pretty much exactly what I was doing!). I would have to sign a bunch of papers that would say I'm doing this AMA and we would go over everything we needed to go over (like my birth plan which, I do have to say, he did go over very thoroughly with me and explained to me what could be done and what could not be done due to hospital policies so in that regard, he was pretty good). He had me do an ultrasound, baby was fine and within normal size (at least not showing to be excessively large especially since my older daughter was over 9 lbs at birth) and he seemed less concerned when he had taken a look at my scar (which is almost invisible and is at the bikini line). Baby was showing to be head down so it was just a matter of doing the last several appointments.

In the meantime, I decided to hire the midwife on as montrice. Due to the due date and the timing of things in July, it was possible that since I would need two midwives that we would have to do a montrice situation to begin with if I went into labor before my due date. If it was after my due date, the plan was to do the labor and delivery at a hotel down in Iowa. I wasn't very sure about this. First of all, I wasn't sure about the idea of having two different plans depending on when I went into labor. I also really did not feel comfortable with the idea of going down to Iowa and having the baby at a hotel. It didn't quite meet my idea of a homebirth and I also kind of felt that it would sort of take away some of the benefits of having a homebirth/midwife birth. So, after some thinking, I decided and asked if it would be possible to have the midwife on as just a montrice. And she came back to me saying that that's what we can do and so I think finally, around 35 weeks, everything was in place and I just had to wait. The plan was when I went into labor, to labor at home as long as possible, AT LEAST past where I was when I had the cesarean with Natalie (so past 4 cms, that was important to me), then go to the hospital where my friend Tami would serve as my doula.

My last appointment with the OB was July 5th. When he used the dopplar, it malfunctioned, making some REALLY loud noises. When he used one that worked, he noted that the baby's heart rate was kind of high so had me go and do a NST. Well, during that, I realized that my cell phone was missing so ended up a little panicked which probably didn't help the test and since the heart rate was still a little high, I got sent up to L&D. I KNEW the baby was fine, just likely freaked out by the loud dopplar and my own panicking but got sent up there anyway for several hours only to find out the baby was just fine. Obviously, they weren't overly concerned because my next appointment wasn't set up until July 15--ten days later and two days before my due date. When that day came I decided to cancel the appointment. I realize that it was a gamble and a lot of people probably would judge me for making that kind of decision but the baby had been moving around fine and when I had asked the OB, he told me that he would be doing a cervical check starting at week 39. I didn't want it. I didn't want to be discouraged and I didn't want him to become concerned about something and decide I needed to go up to L&D. If baby didn't come by Tuesday morning, I would go in then. If baby stopped moving, I would go in. If anything didn't feel right, I would go in. In the meantime, I would do a bunch of walking and moving around in hopes of getting things moving. I felt good about that decision and if I was worried, I had a midwife who was a phone call away and a friend/doula who likely knew when to be concerned as well. Now, we just had to wait until Isabelle was ready to come out.

Isabelle's birth story--the long version--Part 3

Going back to South Korea didn't make things easier. If anything, the stress got worse, much worse. I found out first of all that South Korea's cesarean rate is higher than the US's by as much as 10%, maybe even more than that. Second, my weight as well as the weight of my first daughter when she was born really freaked out the OB I started seeing. I mean, REALLY freaked him out (not to mention, he thought I was 16 years older than I was because he saw my husband's birth date and not mine). He started talking about needing an ultrasound before the due date to see how big the baby was and I knew that that was a big red flag. Third, I came to find out that because South Korea has such a low obesity rate compared to the US (only 3% over there), most of the clinics and hospitals were unprepared to deal with a woman my size. The clinics I went to (I went to two different OBs while I was there) did not have blood pressure cuffs that fit me. They likely didn't have gowns my size. And it was doubtful that they would even have an epidural needle long enough for me if one was needed which meant that if a cesarean was needed, I would likely have to be put under. The thought of have a cesarean done by a doctor who had had absolutely NO experience with an obese woman terrified me. I honest to goodness felt that if I had stayed there and ended up needing a cesarean, I would die. And nothing anyone told me helped that feeling. I honestly felt that if I stayed in South Korea to have the baby I would die. It took some convincing but John agreed that it would be for the best that I return to the US to have the baby.

In the meantime, I was under a lot of stress, far more stress than I was under when I was pregnant with my older daughter. I became depressed. I became so depressed, I was almost suicidal. I was freaking out over all of the decisions that had to be made. I was worried because I couldn't get on the national insurance over there (even though both Natalie and I were supposed to be on the insurance) and every appointment I went to was costing us money (not a ton of money compared to what it would cost in the US but it was money we needed) so I wasn't going to very many prenatal appointments. My self esteem was low, VERY low, because of my weight and because every time I turned around I was reminded how the world saw me because of it whether it was an article on obesity and pregnancy risks or how midwives in the UK would no longer take obese women. I was even starting to consider gastric bypass because I felt that I would never be accepted as a fat person. I would read The Plus Sized Pregnancy website and blog constantly for reassurance, reassurance that just because I was fat didn't mean I couldn't have a vaginal birth, didn't mean I was defective. It was hard though because I saw so many comments towards overweight mothers to be, even got some comments (some, of all places, from my own husband!). I came extremely close to having, for the first time in my life, an honest to goodness eating disorder and it was almost easy because I hated most of the food over there, I was constantly nauseous, and I was stressed and depressed and just not able to eat a lot of the time.

Not only was I dealing with all of this but John was also having job issues. The school he had been working ended its English program which meant he had to change jobs which meant new visas which meant I ended up off the insurance (that I was on for one week and then never really got on again until a week or so before I left Korea). Thankfully it didn't mean we had to move but we probably should have with all of the mold issues we were having (among other issues but the mold was the big one and it was literally all over the room we all slept in which is what happens when you build a building entirely out of cement and then don't bother to do anything with it to keep moisture out!).

And if that wasn't enough, I found out that my younger sister's first husband's father (the first husband who was killed in 2003 by my father and is the reason both of my parents are in prison for life) had lung cancer. He had sort of unofficially adopted us all after my parents were incarcerated and had become a HUGE part of my life since that time, more so than my own biological father had. He was given six months without treatment, maybe two years with treatment (he passed away just over 13 months ago, not quite 13 months after he was first diagnosed).

So, it was a really difficult time, with a lot of uncertainty and a lot of agonizing over decisions including what to do with Natalie. Due to the price of plane tickets going up substantially since I went to the US in November, it was looking like I would have to leave her behind. I could deal with leaving John behind and could even deal with not having him there when I had the baby (he wasn't much help when I was in labor with Natalie) but the thought of leaving Natalie behind really worried me and it was a decision I really agonized over and it didn't help that a lot of moms judged me for even thinking of leaving her behind and accused me of not doing everything I possibly could to be able to take her with. I also worried about the economy in the US and how I would survive and what we would do after the baby was born.

I think, towards the end, all of the stress was getting to me and it was starting to effect my pregnancy. When I went to the OB to get cleared for my return, she expressed some concern with my blood pressure. I was possibly having some pregnancy induced high blood pressure. She wanted me to be seen by a doctor as soon as possible after I returned to the US. Fortunately, she did clear me for my flight and gave me the records I would need for the doctors over there. I also had John get the records I would need from the other OB I saw. Everything was in place for me to leave. I would be leaving Natalie behind though and that was the hardest decision I ever had to make for her since the morning she was born. But I had no choice. If I was going to have the best chance at having a VBAC (or even a cesarean I wasn't going to die from), I had to return to the US.

So, on May 6, 2010, I left South Korea for the last time. I was almost 30 weeks pregnant and I had no idea what was going to happen when I returned. I didn't have a provider. I didn't have any idea who I was even going to try and see. I was taking a HUGE gamble. I didn't have a place to live even or anyone to stay with. John set up a hotel room for me for a week at $200. That was where I was going to be staying. There was a ton of uncertainty facing me. But I knew and John knew that it was the best chance we had to achieve what was really almost next to impossible to achieve. I mean, my chance of a VBAC in the US was 10%, maybe even less considering my weight (though I didn't know it was that low at the time--probably a good thing I didn't!) but I knew my chance of a VBAC in South Korea was even lower than that and I just couldn't take the chance of something going wrong, I just felt that I needed to come home. Maybe it was instinctual, maybe it was the incredibly great need to be somewhere familiar to me, I don't know but I knew, without a doubt, I needed to come home and have my baby in the US. But getting home was only half the battle...

Isabelle's birth story--the long version--Part 2

I found out I was pregnant less than 48 hours after I arrived in the US for a month long vacation (a much needed mental break because I had become so homesick during the seven months I had been in South Korea so far). I started suspecting I was pregnant a couple of days before I left when I reached day 29 and realized I had yet to get my period. Uh oh. Started thinking, realized that I had been especially tired lately, Natalie had been nursing more lately, I had been feeling just a little off...NO, we had been careful! At least, I thought we had been... John agreed. No way are you pregnant, he told me. We even got a bottle of champagne and I had a glass the night before I was to fly off. We were careful. There's no way I'm pregnant. My period is just later this month, still within the 26-31 day window (though usually by day 29 I'm starting to spot and I wasn't but still...).

By the time my plane lands, I'm 12 hours late. My younger sister and the friend I'm staying with for the month both laugh at me. They think I'm being absolutely absurd. Maybe I am. Afterall, stress can affect one's cycles. I was all for rationalizing it though in the back of my mind there was that little thought nagging at me... That little nagging thought really gets going the next night when I start to feel nauseous at my younger sister's inlaws. When I was pregnant with my older daughter, I had gotten a couple of good signs that I was pregnant and a couple of those signs were missing so I wasn't sure. I asked my sister if she ended up finding out she was pregnant without any signs present and she said yes. I couldn't ignore that nagging feeling anymore. I was 36 hours or so late at this point. It was time to pick up a pregnancy test.

We pick up the trusty old digital model from Walmart, the one that tells you in plain words if you are pregnant or not. I get back to my friend's house and I don't even wait until the next morning. I had two tests on hand, I was going to take one now. It didn't even take three minutes before the results came in: PREGNANT. I swore. Yeah, probably not my proudest moment but this was definitely NOT expected at all! I mean, I had ordered cloth menstrual pads for crying out loud, had them sent to my friend's house fully expecting to use them on my period that I would be on when I got to the US for the visit. What's that old saying? People plan, God laughs? God definitely had to have been rolling on the floor and laughing His head off. Ha ha ha. What was really fun was trying to reach my husband with a 15 hour time difference. It took me a day or so before I finally got him on the phone and I had even sent an email saying, "Hey, need to talk to you!". That was kind of funny considering the news I had to tell him and it was definitely the last thing he had expected. His reaction was this sort of shocked, "Wow." Yeah, that about sums up how I was feeling too.

The rest of the month was kind of a jumble of emotions for me. I was scared half out of my mind and absolutely unsure of what to do. As with any pregnancy, there was always the chance that it wouldn't get all the way to term. Granted, I had never had a miscarriage before but I my sisters have and I certainly had risk factors for miscarriages including extra weight and a previous cesarean section. So the plan was to just wait it out, return to Korea, and see what could be done there in as far as having a child over there. I found information on a doula who lived over there online and we decided we would meet up when I returned to Korea. Other than that, there wasn't much else I could do. No sense in seeing a doctor since it was so early in the pregnancy and I wouldn't be setting up care in the US. I just did what I could to enjoy my time there even though at the same time, I was getting hit harder with first trimester pregnancy symptoms (including, oh the irony and the cruelty, morning sickness hitting right in time for Thanksgiving). I also ended up having to replace my computer during that time because I managed to break my laptop's hard drive on the way to the US (tripped and fell at the airport, banging up the computer enough to break the hard drive). It was a vacation that sort of fell flat with everything I was having to deal with. And to add to it, my friend also had a lot she was dealing with at the same time. So when I left December 8 (literally hours before a massive snow storm hit that would close the airport the next day due to 17 inches of snow, I mean, they were deicing the plane as I sat in it listening to--again, the irony--Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow), it was supposed to have been for the last time for possibly two years...at least, that was the plan. Little did I know that I would actually be returning less than five months later...

Isabelle's birth story--the long version--Part 1

A blog highlighting the topic that is near and dear to all mothers, the moment we became mothers (found here: http://www.themompledgeblog.com/search/label/Defining%20Moments) and the fact that May 6 will mark two years since I returned to the United States for the last leg of my pregnancy journey have me thinking about what I went through to bring my youngest into the world almost two years ago. It was quite an emotional and very unexpected journey. My husband and definitely did not anticipate that we would be having another child so soon even though our oldest was almost 4 when I became pregnant again. We hadn't even really decided if we were going to have another child when I became pregnant but life has a funny way of happening while you're busy making other plans.

The birth of our oldest daughter, Natalie, did not go at all the way I wanted it to. I had planned to have as natural a birth as possible but it all went awry when I was hit with back labor in the early morning hours of December 26, 2005. The whole story is here: http://theworldofnatalie.blogspot.com/2006/02/miss-natalie-has-arrived.html

It was one of those situations where I had never felt so out of control in my life. It was absolutely not at all what I had expected my daughter's birth to do. I felt more like I was just watching it all unfold and not part of it at all. And afterward, a number of things happened that just made those feelings worse. She had to get poked many times because of her weight which meant concerns with blood sugars. They were low (big surprise, I hadn't eaten in hours by the time she was born) so they gave us the choice to either give her formula or she would have to go to the NICU and have an IV put in her forehead. We didn't want her to have any formula at all but felt we had absolutely no choice in the matter whatsoever and that was hard on me, especially when later on I read all the stuff on the virgin gut and how anything other than breastmilk is detrimental for a baby. There was the fight my husband had with the pediatrician because he didn't want her to get the Vitamin K shot. I told him to go along with it though because I was worried about any complications from her traumatic birth. I had her get the eye drops too because of all the meconium not knowing that it's really only needed in the event of an STD which I absolutely did not have.

The hospital stay was a nightmare. I was SO exhausted but wasn't allowed to sleep because I was nursing. It seemed like every time I was finally able to go to sleep, I would be woken up to feed her. They would wake her up too and most of the nights, she would cry and it would be this squealing cry. She was very fussy her first few days of life because of all the poking she went through. The first nice a nurse even got frustrated with her! I was stuck to the bed and couldn't do anything and felt SO helpless! My husband worked nights so I was alone and tired and so horribly overwhelmed already. Our second to last day there, I sent her to the nursery to try and get some sleep. When she came back, she had a band aid on her foot. They had done the newborn screening without even asking us or telling us that they had done it. I was FURIOUS! More poking which meant another night of her being fussy. Friday came and though I would have been allowed to stay another night, I was DONE. I wanted to go home. By that point, I was in TEARS when the ped came in to do a check up and woke my daughter up again! My milk still hadn't come in yet and my nipples looked horrible. It was an absolute nightmare. And it didn't end then. For the next 15 weeks, I went through horrible pain while breastfeeding and almost gave up many many times. I did manage to continue despite all of this and nursed her until 10 weeks before her sister was born, when I left South Korea for the last time.

Still, due to that horror story of a beginning, the last thing I wanted to do was have another baby. One was enough. I could live with having an only child. And the older she got, the more I was okay with it. We didn't need another baby. I blocked out what happened as best as I could and tried not to think about it. I couldn't deal with what happened. I had gone through witnessing a murder only two and a half years before my daughter's birth as well as two murder trials and numerous court hearings and dealing with having my parents put in prison. Caring for a baby was too difficult of a job to deal with one more trauma in my life. I would just not have another baby and therefore, would not have to worry about dealing with all of this again. It took me six months to become pregnant with her so obviously, it would take some work to get pregnant with another one again. Enough said. Besides, my husband didn't want another one, we were both happy with having one, there was no need to even think about having another baby.

And so we didn't until our oldest started talking about wanting a little brother or sister. She would watch commercials on TV with babies and talk about how that baby was SO cute and why don't we have another baby. I remember saying to her one night to ask her daddy. So, when John came home from work, she did. We were in South Korea though and a pregnancy at this point would not be ideal but the thought was trickling in my mind that maybe we would think about trying again just before we leave...maybe. Apparently, the universe listens to the wishes of children more than it listens to those of adults because it wasn't long after that that I became pregnant.

Pinterest

I got into this website back in January, I think and I'm simply hooked. I have found SO many great ideas for homeschooling and organizing and more. I have over 1000 pins now, most of them for homeschooling in various subjects. It's nice to have a visual showing of all of the things I find interesting online. I have even used it to give my younger sister ideas for her wedding. She's not quite as addicted as I am but again, it's SO helpful to have that visual which regular bookmarks do not provide. Not that bookmarks aren't a help, I still use those too but I'm likely to use them to bookmark a website whereas with Pinterest, I might pin a specific page within that site that contains an idea I may use later on.

Now, I'm taking my use of the website one step further (or is it farther?) and adding in pins of things I have actually made. Years ago, before I went to Korea, I made nursing necklaces for moms who had little nurslings who were prone to grabbing and pinching and pulling and more. I really got into it and enjoyed it but it wasn't easy to find the beads I needed to use and when we went to Korea, the project was abandoned altogether. I actually miss doing things like my nursing necklaces and other craft projects. I haven't been able to get into it as much this time around with the new little one because I haven't had the same amount of time I used to have back when Natalie was a baby. We lived in a different area and my husband was able to take her out more. It would be nice to get back into it again though because I did enjoy it, just hard to say if I would get back into selling with restrictions being the way they are now.

Anyway, if you want to check out my page, go here: http://pinterest.com/simplyjaneen/

Organizing, organizing, organizing...

Seems that that is all I do these days but it's a necessary evil. Our apartment is such that we don't have a lot of extra storage space. We have a storage unit in the basement but it's prone to flooding (all it takes is a good rainstorm and the drains getting backed up and we have water in the streets, over the sidewalk, and down into the basement) which is not good if you want to store things like winter clothes. We have a closet in the living room that's very small. We have kitchen cabinet space but no pantry (and therefore, no place to store things like broom/vacuum cleaner/etc). There's no linen closet (or if there was, the room has been taken up by the water heater). Bathroom storage is minimum, only a small cabinet under the sink. The three bedrooms each have a closet but the closets are all different sizes. One room has a large closet and the other two rooms have smaller closets (including the largest bedroom, ask me how that makes ANY sense at all!). They do all at least have a shelf. It's just an awkwardly put together apartment where the space is not set up in the best way.

To add to that, I have two kids which means toys and clothes galore. I have totes of clothes that Natalie grew out of and Isabelle still needs to grow into. My younger sister is also using some of the clothes for her youngest daughter who will be 3 next week. Since it took so long for Isabelle to grow, I have clothes from 0-3 months all the way to size 8 girls. That's a lot of clothes! And that doesn't include the fact that I have about three totes in size 24 months and 2T alone that I ended up getting shortly after Isabelle was born. I look forward to her reaching that size because I'll have plenty of clothes for her to wear!

Then we have the toys. We have a lots of toys for various ages and neither girl is good at putting away toys. Along with the toys, we have stuffed animals. And getting rid of excess toys has not been easy whatsoever. Heaven help me if I end up pregnant with another child, I may go mad!

I am not the most organized person in the world. I try to be but a lot of things end up in boxes and forgotten about for years and years. It's part of that pack rat trait I picked up from my dad. He was notorious at having stuff in boxes and moving it all with him from place to place to place and filling up and entire garage, extra room, storage unit, you name it. I'm trying not to do that. Going to Korea, we got rid of a LOT of stuff. However, it's amazing how easy it is to end up with a lot of stuff again, especially when you have a friend who is moving and needs to get rid of a bunch of HER stuff! lol Of course, winning a lot of Carebears on eBay probably didn't help matters either... My husband is even worse with the organizing than I am. He doesn't organize or if he does, it's in the most illogical way. He also doesn't remember where he puts stuff which means that if he put something away, I may never see it again. Sometimes this has meant tearing the house apart until what I'm looking for. Not the most logical course of action but he truly does not get that he needs to REMEMBER where he put something!

So, I have a room that I use for an office. It's also where a lot of stuff ends up, sort of the sorting/processing area of the apartment. This way, it's in "holding" and it's SAFE from my husband putting it away. Unfortunately, it means that it may end up being in holding for sometime as getting to it and organizing it is rather time consuming (especially when I have two hurricanes to pick up after--three if you count my husband!).

The key, I realize, is minimizing what is accessible to the girls. The less they have access to, the easier it is to keep up with the daily messes. It's not easy though because they both have gotten into the extra totes and have dragged toys out, sometimes emptying entire totes at once. Argh!

So I'm slowly working on my office and trying to get it organized and have things in it that are functional. I realize that the girls having bookshelves is just pointless. The books never end up in there so one went into my office and the other into our bedroom. Books we don't want Isabelle to get into (because they're paper books and can be torn) will be in our room and board books will have a home in either the living room or bedroom/playroom. I would like to get one of those bookshelves for them that leaves the books facing out but they're not cheap and the cheap ones, I guess, are too prone to ripping. Maybe were baskets and command hooks? Might be something to look into at some point.

In the meantime, I'm just plugging away, trying to get things organized and put away. It's a huge task because I'm the one doing pretty much all of the work (definitely can't rely on my husband to be much help) and it's a lot of stuff to organize but my plan is to find a place for everything. And hopefully, by the time we move out of this apartment, I will have done that. It's just going to take time.