My Labor Story with Van: Getting There (Part 1 of 2)

I'd like to begin my labor and delivery story with a disclaimer: events are described from my limited perspective and may not be consistent with reality in terms of the nitty-gritty details. As labor progressed, I increasingly drew more inward to collect myself and became less aware of what was really going on around me.

Following is my rendition of the story of Van's birth and my labor leading up to it. This time I got the experience that I wanted--no pitocin, which enabled me to forgo the epidural as well. I had an amazing support system present, including our moms, my sister, my close friend Sara, and of course BJ. I also got the amazing blessing of having Melissa as my labor and delivery nurse for the third time. Melissa has been with me as I have labored with all three of my children, and wouldn't you know that she was on the schedule for December 17th. I knew it too, because she and I had messaged on Facebook the night before and she told me to go into labor because she was working the next day. =)

On the evening of Monday, December 16, I wasn't tired. We got the boys to bed, BJ went to bed, and I showered and found myself really not wanting to get into bed. Instead I opened to page 1 of J.K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy, a book I gave up on after that night because it just wasn't good, and read until about page 50 before deciding to turn in. At 12:55AM I laid down, and at 1:00AM on the dot Silas came into the bedroom crying from leg aches. I got out of bed, set him up on a pallet on the floor beside me, rubbed his feet for him, and gave him ibuprofen. Ten minutes later he was fast asleep and I was lying in bed again. At 1:13AM I felt my first contraction. I knew it was a real one and not a Braxton-Hicks, but I had already felt several real ones over the previous several days and not had any consistency with them. Nine minutes later I felt another, and then I drifted off to sleep.

At 2:03AM my eyes flew open with the pain of another contraction. I knew in the moment that I opened my eyes that this was it--Van was going to come in the next 24 hours. I waited in anticipation, and sure enough felt another stronger contraction nine minutes later. After a few of these, the time between decreased to seven minutes, then five minutes. In the meantime, I was way too excited to sleep so I browsed the internet on my phone. My friend Melissa Goss-Jentz is a very good writer and has created a hilarious and insightful blog that I enjoy reading. Previously she had given birth to her son Jannik in her very own bathroom and had recounted the tale in three separate posts that I will re-post here (Contraction, Transition, and Expulsion). For the pure sake of solidarity and encouragement, I read all three posts again and felt invigorated by this friend of mine who had given birth naturally. Foregoing the epidural has long been a dream of mine. At first the primary motivation was to keep meds from entering the baby's system and live the process of laboring and birthing as it was meant to be naturally; however, my labor experiences with Silas and George both required the use of pitocin, which is infamous for intensifying the labor experience and causing unnaturally long contractions. Having had the pitocin twice, I also had an epidural twice because I couldn't handle the pain of labor contractions hyped-up on pitocin. What I learned from epidurals is that, for me, they relieve the immediate pain of the contractions and birth itself, but I pay for it in the six weeks following. Both times I experienced intense feelings of pressure and pain at the site of the injection for approximately six weeks. Both times I feared the pain would never go away, and it truly was at a scale that impacted my ability to lift, jog, and just plain move around. It really helped me to read Melissa's story of Jannik's birth because it made a natural birth seem attainable to me. Throughout the labor process I periodically thought of Melissa and remembered that if she could do it, I could do it too. I kept telling myself that if I could just make it through the relatively few hours of painful labor, I would be home-free without epidural pain for the next six weeks. Even at that, though, I entered the hospital uncommitted, telling my nurse Melissa upon arrival that I was not closed to the idea of an epidural and would just "see how it goes."

I got out of bed at 3AM after briefly informing BJ that I was in labor. I told him to go back to sleep, that the pain wasn't bad and I was going to labor by myself for awhile from our house. Anyone that knows BJ knows that going back to sleep was not a problem for him. This was fine because I knew I would need him later and he may as well be rested. And so I got up and piddled around and did what any normal girl in labor does: finished packing, painted my nails, ate some fruit, took a few showers, Facebook messaged Melissa and told her I would be in that day and to save a spot on her patient load for me, and began getting a little giddy. I was going to meet my boy TODAY! Hooray! I texted my mom at 5:30 because I knew she would be awakening soon, and she called me right away. We talked for about ten minutes and then I got on the phone with my best friend Sommer, who was on her commute to work on the East Coast. Contractions at that point were four minutes apart and intensifying; although I could fairly easily focus on conversation still at that point during a contraction, it was becoming difficult to talk through them so as I felt them coming on I would tell Sommer to update me on something in HER life. At 6:15AM I thought it wise to go ahead and get BJ up. I knew we shouldn't wait too long to get to the hospital because I was Group B Strep positive, which would require administration of antibiotics before Van was born, and I didn't want to wait too long. I also didn't want my water to break at home. I had that experience with Silas and we had a mess to clean up afterward!

BJ got up, got our stuff loaded into the van, and we woke up our boys. The plan was to all drive to the hospital where BJ's parents would meet us. Terry would take the boys back to their house with him and Susan would stay with BJ and me in the hospital room. We left for the hospital at 7:20AM and arrived just before 8:00. My mom also arrived at the hospital at the same time as us. I immediately saw Melissa's smiling face as my mom and I walked on to the unit. I filled out some brief paperwork, was shown into my room, dressed into my fashionable backless gown, and got in the bed and waited to be told what to do next. I was totally under control at that point, laughing and joking with my family, and I expected a long road ahead that day. After all, I kept thinking, I'm only in the very early stages of labor; things will get a lot crazier than this. And they did...
Read part 2 here.

Van Owen

This is so belated, I know. But I'd like to introduce you to my little Van Owen. His pictures are all over my Facebook page, but I haven't mentioned his birth on this blog yet. I'm head over heels for Van. Already I don't know how I ever lived without him. Labor and delivery story to follow soon.
 Stats: Born December 17, 2013 at 1:41PM. 9lbs, 5 oz. 22 inches. Welcomed with open arms!

Thankfulness

Over the summer I was reading a book that contained a single line from a poem, and I found the line so compelling that I researched the poem and found it in its entirety. During the week of Thanksgiving, the poem resonates particularly beautifully. You know, this world isn't easy, and it seems altogether frightening that we can look around and see others not faring as well as we would like. It is a reminder to me, as it should be, that the life I have been given is precious and beautiful; it deserves my thankfulness each day, which I often forget to offer. Invariably I will look back upon the days of my life in wistfulness and know how good I have had it: that I have had the love of two parents, a brother, and a sister who have always cared so deeply about me; that I have met a man who is my partner in all things, and makes me feel happy and secure every day; that I have been given the precious opportunity to give life to little boys, who have blessed me with a purpose that I could have never comprehended before their arrivals; that I have in-laws who have embraced me as an extension of my husband and treated me as one of their own; that I have the support, love, and laughter of many great friends; that I have a body that functions as it is supposed to; and that my family and I have the means to obtain not only what we need, but also so much of what we desire. May I always remember to be thankful along the way, and not wait until the end to look back at how beautiful life really is.

The Summer Day
by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

from New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA

Copyright 1992 by Mary Oliver

Getting Things Done

Well, we wanted a third child, and it turns out that he will be making his grand arrival right smack-dab in the middle of the holiday season. This isn't a complaint, because I simply love the idea of having a Christmas baby (just wait till you see the newborn pics I have planned!). But, I must admit that the idea of a Christmas-time baby loses its appeal if we're talking about my normal fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants holiday schedule with the added chaos of a newborn baby, a hospital stay, a recovery after pushing a child out my body, and a strain on the sleep schedule. Seeing as how the last four items on this checklist are unavoidable, I figured I may as well fix the first. My solution for this was to adjust my typical approach to the holiday season and just get things done early.

I'm happy to report that our family holiday photo shoot was completed in October, the Christmas cards were ordered, and they are waiting in a ready state to be sent out.

My Christmas shopping is 90% (at least!) done, and boxes are arriving every day holding gifts for our loved ones. The boys love ripping into them to see what we bought everyone. Gift tags are ordered and waiting for presents to be wrapped, outdoor Christmas lights are up, newborn clothes have been brought down from the attic and been sorted and washed, bumpers have been taken off the crib, flu shots and DTAP boosters have been received, breast pump tubes have been replaced with new ones, and an eye appointment has been made so that I can order some new glasses for all of those middle-of-the-night awakenings (my old pair is ten-plus years old).

Van's waiting dresser

To add to the glory of our preparation, this guy is now potty-trained, averaging less than one accident per day. 

Pee-pee accidents are once a week or less (including waking up dry on overnights and naps!), and shoo-shoos are still hit-or-miss, but I can't complain. Plus, he has transitioned well to public potties. Only a parent could be so proud! 

Things we still have to do, which I am listing more for my benefit than for yours: bring the car seat down and get it washed up, pack a hospital bag--although the packing list is already devised, move the crib mattress up and get sheets on it, and wash a few other necessary items such as Moses basket sheets and the covers for the baby recliner and swing. I should probably organize a few frozen meals, and then I can finally get to focusing on the order of the house. Although it isn't filthy around here, things have gotten cluttered as I have slowed down and put more energy into knocking out the Christmas stuff rather than keeping things tidy. Eh, we all have to let some things go. 

My ultimate goal for the last half of the Christmas season is to spend my time with my four--count 'em, FOUR--guys enjoying the holiday season as a family. I want to be mostly at home drinking hot beverages, watching Christmas shows (and football), baking, and snuggling, all with the occasional jaunt out for Christmas-light looking and time spent with extended family and friends. I want visitors to know that they will be welcomed, and I want us all to bask in the beauty of the lights of our awesome Christmas tree. I know this is a lot for a girl to ask for, but for my part I've been working hard to make what is under my control successful. An update on the pregnancy, for those interested in the details: I'm 36-1/2 weeks, and the doctor thinks Van will be here in under two weeks. At my appointment on Monday I was dilated to a 2 and was 70% effaced. I think it will be closer to three weeks myself, but will be shocked if baby Van has not arrived by December 9th. To all my friends and readers, enjoy this last week before Thanksgiving! Embrace your loved ones and, at the risk of sounding like Ana Gasteyer's impression of Martha Stewart (topless, at that!), enjoy your upcoming holiday season. "I really treasure it." 

Picture-Perfect Love

In a previous post about how I stumbled into motherhood after reading an unexpectedly inspiring novel, I mentioned that I was in the process of gathering a collection of pictures of mothers with their children. The project is finally finished! All but one of these mothers are friends of mine, and I chose each picture because at the time that I first saw it I felt a lump of love rise in my throat. In each of the images, the love from mother to child is so obvious. In some photos, the emotion is awe; in some it is peace, and in some it is pure joy. In some of the photos, mothers and/or babies are now in Heaven, but the beauty of the love lives on in the pictures. I have had so much fun collecting these photos, and I want to thank each mommy for being such an amazing person and also for giving me permission to share these images in my blog. This project, I must say, really ramped up in its intensity after my friend Holly Hooper-Stover (whose talent I have previously extolled in this post) snapped a photo of my boys and me a few weeks ago that instantly became my favorite image of myself as a mother, surrounded by my three boys (one in utero, in case you're confused when counting). Holly, I will always treasure this picture. Thank you. Readers, please enjoy!

George (left), Silas (right), Van Owen, and me

 Heidi and Wes

(FYI: I previously claimed in this post about self-image that Heidi is the most beautiful person I have ever seen and that Angelina Jolie has nothing on her. Wouldn't you agree?)

Sommer and our hero Owen

Megan and Case, who both lost their lives in the tornado of May 20, 2013. The peace and love on her face is rivaled only by that on his. This picture still makes me cry.

 

Kristen and precious Aiden

Angie meeting Jelina, her "sweet petite," for the first time

 Tabitha in her usual outdoorsy-exploratory-mode with boys Caedmon and Noah

 Lindsey and Jameson--pure love. =)

Heidi and Max- a joyous moment!

Chanda meeting her daughter Dacie

Laurie in action with son Miles, dressed as a lamb for Halloween. I don't consider my friend Laurie to be much of an emotionally-mushy person, and I believe that this picture perfectly illustrates her motherly love in action.

Melissa snuggling with baby Ruby

Mandy hugging her son Will. Her smile is among the loveliest I have ever encountered in person.

Cyndi and her long-awaited beauty Sera

 Even though there is background chaos in this picture, I love this one of my mom and me at my doctoral graduation. Isn't my mom (pictured right) so beautiful? If ever I doubted her pride in me, I need only to look at this picture. The love in her eyes is evident. Many of us learn to be great moms because we ourselves were nurtured by terrific moms; my mom has been my shining example.

Little Owen: Flying High

 I sometimes look at this photo in wonder. Here, my best friend Sommer is 32 weeks pregnant with Owen (which is a wonder in and of itself given that she is about the same size that I typically am when I'm eight weeks pregnant). We were enjoying a long visit out to Massachusetts and Maine in the summer of 2011, and times never seemed happier. Ellie and Silas had just turned a year old, Som was expecting Owen, and I was ten weeks pregnant with George. I marvel with a sad heart at what shortly awaited us all. When I think of Owen's life as a whole, I sometimes find myself coming back to Adele's line from "Someone Like You," in which she writes, "Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?" We never saw it coming. How could we have?--and yet, I feel foolish for never having seen it coming.

Nearly two years after Sommer and Pete received the devastating news of Owen's terminal brain disease, our little guy earned his angel wings last Wednesday morning. I had traveled to Massachusetts and was present for his passing, which was peaceful in the very end but difficult in the days and hours leading up to it. Owen entered Heaven a week ago, and I apologize for not providing the update on this blog more quickly. I know that many of my friends here ask about Owen and were emotionally invested in his life. Until today, however, my ability to put two intelligible words about Owen together on paper was a ridiculous expectation. The week spent in Massachusetts, as well as the past week spent recovering from his loss, has been very intense and at times I have been wholly consumed with either caring for Owen, supporting my closest friends, and then returning home to my own family and figuring out how to continue on with life.

My time in Massachusetts was, as I previously said, intense. In many ways it was the worst of times, but also at the same time it was a week of extremely deep fulfillment and bonding; when looked at from the latter perspective, my time spent in Amesbury with my friends wasn't all bad. I got to meet new people that I never would have encountered, and as we all shared a common goal of serving Owen and making him comfortable, I believe we forged some emotional bonds that may never be broken. I will never forget nurses like Robin, Bronwyn, and Amanda, and I will always be glad for my strengthened friendships with Sommer, Pete, and Sommer's parents Marylou and Tony. Time with Ellie is always entertaining and lovely as well. We cried on each other's shoulders, soothed Owen through some rough times, and reminded each other that something better awaited this little boy who never knew life as you and I do. We stroked his head and told him that if he would just let go, he could run and play in the leaves like little boys should. He could taste pizza for the first time, eat ice cream to his heart's content, and be free of physical ailments. Finally, he listened to us, decided he was ready, and entered the next realm. As Marylou has pointed out, in some ways death doesn't seem so forbidding for us anymore knowing that our O-Ster is waiting on the other side. That little boy, his parents, and his sister have endured hardships that no one should have to face, and I hope and pray for better times ahead for all four of them.

I saw a commercial the other day that immediately brought Owen to mind for me. If you'd like, please take the one minute to watch it. The beautiful message speaks to me about how choosing to love is a risk, but nearly all of us choose to take that risk because of the promised reward that comes with loving another person. Just because we love and lose doesn't mean that we stop loving, and I think that Owen has been a beautiful example of love that goes on and on, even after his presence is no longer here. His memorial service was estimated to include 500 people present, and that doesn't even count people who attended in spirit but could not be physically present. Owen has changed us for the better, and unlike with most of us, his angel wings were completely deserved.


I will love and miss Owen forever. I will always remember the red of his hair, the blue of his eyes, the sweet smell of his head in the final week I knew him, and those final hours of peace before he took his leave for a better place. I will always be fulfilled by the last time I got to hold him so tightly to my chest, with the full knowledge that he was in a better place, and his sweet head tucked tightly under my chin and his little bottom just resting on my own baby in my belly, a baby to be named after him. To an ornery turkey and beautiful, crafty soul: we're sorry it wasn't better for you here, but we can't wait to know you eternally in a place so much better than this life.  I will always love these pictures of you:

 For those of you interested, Sommer's blog can be found here.  She has an obituary in her most recent post with information about Owen and where to send donations, if you feel so inclined.

The Best Chocolate Chip Cookies Ever

I know that everyone seems to claim this, but I truly have found the recipe for the very best chocolate chip cookies in the world. I have not invented this recipe myself, although I have tweaked it as needed for our family and even created a dairy-free version that kicked every craving I ever had. Just look and see:

These cookies are giant in size, but they don't overbake because they are scooped on to parchment paper and baked at only 325 degrees. Allow me to share the recipe, originated by America's Test Kitchen, and the changes that I have made to "Big and Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies!"

Listed to make about 20 cookies (my output is usually about 16, but I also usually eat some batter)
Listed prep time: 5 minutes. (It's easy but not THAT easy. Prep time for me is usually about 10 minutes.)

3-1/3 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt (I always use kosher)
2 sticks unsalted butter, melted ****
1-1/4 cups packed light brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 (additional) large egg yolks
1 tablespoon vanilla extract (I have always omitted this because I'm allergic to vanilla.)
12-ounces of semi-sweet chocolate chips ****

****For a dairy-free version of this recipe, omit the butter and use butter-flavored Crisco instead. Butter-flavored Crisco actually is dairy-free. Also, make certain that you use GHIRADELLI Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips. They truly are dairy-free and are the only good dairy-free ones that I ever tasted.

1. Put your oven racks in upper- and lower-middle positions and heat the oven to 325 degrees.

2. Whisk flour, baking soda, and salt together and set aside.

3. Beat the melted butter (or Crisco!) and both sugars in a large bowl using an electric mixer on medium speed until combined, one or two minutes. Then add in the eggs, additional egg yolks, and vanilla if you're using it and beat for about 30 more seconds. Scrape down the bowl if needed.

4. Reduce the mixer speed to low and slowly mix in the flour/baking soda/salt mixture about 30 seconds. To add the chocolate chips, I always disengage the bowl from the mixer and hand-stir them in. Remember, Ghiradelli semi-sweet!

5. Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper and use a 1/4-cup scoop (seriously, buy one--they make it so easy), or otherwise put in 1/4-cup size balls, onto the sheets. Only put six cookies on a sheet because they really are big! Bake until the edges are golden but centers are soft and puffy, which for me is 17-18 minutes. Halfway through baking time, switch and rotate the pans.

6. Let the cookies cool on their sheets for ten minutes, and then transfer them to a wire rack like the one pictured above to keep cooling. Or, just eat them. If you can eat more than one and a half at a time, I salute you and call you my sweet-toothed superior!

Enjoy, my friends! And please don't sue me, America's Test Kitchen.