Meg's Birth

(For some background--this is my fourth baby. The first was a medical hospital birth with an epidural, the second was a hospital water birth, and the third was a homebirth involving a severe shoulder dystocia.)

I thought Virginia was my last. But then I got the bug again, and knew there would be one more. I wanted to go into this pregnancy with intention. I wanted to take care of my body, and my soul. I was miserably sick the first three-four months, but otherwise enjoyed the pregnancy. I did take care of my body, and as a result was in good shape when I was full term. As for my soul, I knew I had to deal with the fear born out of my last birth. So I took a class called Fear to Freedom, and let myself feel that fear, put it aside, and focus on my desires. I learned that I deeply wanted to own this birth, to do things myself, to hold my own sacred space. I wanted something I had never gotten to do before--catch my own baby.



Part of dealing with my fear and approaching this birth with intention was to have a plan in place. I would not go 42 weeks this time and have another 10 lb baby. While I had birthed her vaginally, it was certainly pushing the limit of what my body could do and I wasn't willing to risk a shoulder dystocia again. I had hoped to go into labor spontaneously this time, but as I approached 41 weeks and had already had several false alarms, I was willing to give this up. After thoughtful consideration, my midwife and I decided to have her come break my water on Friday, February 24th. In my mind's eye I pictured a night birth, so I asked her to come in the evening, and we settled on 9pm. This also gave my sister Amy time to arrive from Baltimore. I was surprisingly calm that day, and spent my time building the perfect nest. I cleaned and prepared my birth space. We set up the tub, got the bed ready, and I taped affirmations and pictures all around the walls. Then the girls and I spent the afternoon and evening at my mom and dad's house. I put the girls to bed and came home by myself at 8pm in order to have some alone time and prepare myself mentally. I put on relaxing music, lit candles, and changed into a t-shirt and yoga pants. I spent some time with Meg, telling her what was coming, that we would get to meet each other soon. Then the doorbell rang. It was my beloved friend and doula, Pam. She was soon followed by Jamie, then my midwives Debbie, Kay, and their Apprentice Whitney. It was showtime! We got the tub filled and chatted a while, and then Debbie had me lay down to break my water at 9:30pm. I was 3cm, but immediately stretched to a five after my water broke. Then I got up and waited for contractions to begin.

It didn't take too long, and they instantly felt different than the prodromal labor I'd been having for a couple weeks. Much lower. More pressure. I was standing with one leg up on the bed talking to Debbie and Kay when the first HARD one hit, and I crouched into a squat. Debbie was thrilled (we knew already that my body responds like this to water breaking, but it was still a relief to know it had worked again). I soon decided I was done with the relaxing music and needed to dance. Jamie put on my dance mix and I started to move. I asked to have my sisters (who by this time had arrived and were waiting downstairs with my mom and daughter) come dance with me. They came up and we kicked it to Michael Jackson.



After a couple songs the contractions were getting too intense to dance through, and I was starting to feel more serious. I asked them to top the tub off with hot water and kept dancing until it was ready. I was working hard, but still smiling and joking in between. As soon as the pool was ready I jumped in, and instantly turned serious. Looking back I know now that I was entering transition. No more joking. No more dance music--change it to my other mix! I was suddenly angry. Angry that I had chosen to go into labor when I knew what kind of pain that meant. All I kept thinking was "what the hell have I done?". I looked at Pam and asked "There's no getting out of this now, is there?" "There's one way out!", she replied. Not what I wanted to hear.



Jamie calls this my "angry birth" because I just glared at everyone, royally pissed off. As soon as I stepped in the water I began to feel bottom pressure, and as if I might throw up. I started vocalizing through the contractions, gradually getting louder and louder. I was crazy for cold wash cloths and was wiping them all over my face and neck and chest as if somehow that could save me from this. I found myself grunting a little with the contractions, and felt inside. I could feel the head, with a little lip of cervix on one side. Ok, still pretty high up, but we were getting somewhere. The contractions were coming on top of each other, and I lamented about not getting a break. Suddenly I lunged forward to gag and dry-heaved several times. Then I got the much needed break I had asked for and rested a minute, making love to the washcloths again. Not long after this I began to feel myself pushing a little more, and knew it was the real thing because I got the tell-tale Charlie horse in my butt that I had with Virginia's birth. I decided if it was time to push I was gonna get down to work, so I let myself push harder. I shouted "FUCK" several times as the Charlie horse and pushing contractions fought for my attention. It was time to let Lydia come up, so I asked someone to go get my mom and Lydia. They got there just in time! I got on my hands and knees and concentrated on pushing with intention. I could feel her head inside me, much lower than it was before, and reached for Jamie's hand to let him feel. I would keep my hand in there as I pushed and it was so cool to feel her coming down! As I felt the ring of fire I pulled up into a squat, let out a high-pitched shriek, and all at once her whole head came out into my hand! Oh my God! (Lydia, in the meantime, turned to reassure my sister that "she's fine." What a trooper!) I sat back into Pam's arms and rested for a minute while I let myself take in what was happening. Debbie assured me that the head looked great and there was no turtling at all, and I could just wait for the next contraction to push the rest of her out. I asked if her hair was dark, which I had dreamed during the pregnancy. They said it was. I tried pushing through two contractions while semi-sitting, but she didn't come. I started to panic that I would never be able to push the body out, and that I would just be stuck like this forever! Debbie calmly assured me I wouldn't and suggested that I squat again, so I pulled up as the next contraction came. Debbie used a hand to help guide her for just a moment, then let go as I held on to my emerging baby's body and pulled her up out of the water. Oh the relief and joy! I couldn't believe it! Everyone was laughing and crying, including myself. She looked just how I knew she would! I have never felt so joyful in my life. I DID it!





During my Fear to Freedom class I created a mantra:

Through movement I will connect with my body.
I will move my baby down and out.
My body is powerful, My love is powerful.
I will assert my power.

I danced in my labor. I swayed in the pool. I reached in and felt my baby come down and out. She was born into my hands and I pulled her from my body into my arms. I faced my fear. I owned this birth!!



Margaret Claire Nasmyth was born at 11:52pm on February 24th, 2012. She was 9lbs even and 20 inches long. Love <3

What's my line?

For those of you who don't know, Lydia, my firstborn, started preschool in February. Of course she just loves it--I knew she would. I had planned on waiting until she was in kindergarten to send her to school, but after having Virginia we thought we might all benefit from her getting out a couple days a week. So she now attends a little church preschool 3 days a week for 4 hours a day Last week they held a "vocabulary parade", which is Lydia's first public speaking experience. Each kid dressed up in a costume inspired by a vocabulary word, then stood on stage and said their word and the definition. We decided to do the word recycle. We made a costume out of a paper bag and taped cans and bottles and cardboard to it. I drew the recycle symbol on the front. We practiced and practiced. Lydia, whats your word? "Recycle". And what does it mean? "to re-use instead of throw away!". She had it DOWN. She did perfect in practice. So the day arrives and I show up, all proud and excited for my little girl. She looks awesome in her costume. On her turn, she gets on stage. The director asks her her word, she looks out with a smile on her face, and proudly says...."garbage!". "things we throw away". Um... huh? Where did that come from? It was hilarious, and embarrassing in a not-so-serious way. I could just hear the other parents thinking they teach their kids to throw away that stuff? We recycle, I swear! But truly, it was mostly just amusing. When I asked her about it afterward, she seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. If you ask her she'll tell you she said "recycle". The kid is easily distracted.

it's not as gross as it sounds

advisory...somewhat graphic photos below

You may or may not know that I consumed my placenta after Virginia's birth. This knowledge may or may not gross you out. But I wanted to share with you my experience, if you so choose to read on.

All along my journey through motherhood, I'll hear about something and dismiss it as weird or gross. Cloth diapering... what, people still do that? Mama cloth...eww, never! Homebirth...wait you mean, like, not at the hospital? Delayed/selective vaxing... whats wrong with the regular schedule? So when I first heard about placenta encapsulation, my first reaction was, that is WAY out there, I'll never do that. But like in every other situation, I am an information junkie. When I hear about something, I want to know what it is. I research. Along with the plethora of information I find on the internet, much of my research comes from my darling online community called Diaper Swappers, where I can find women who have done pretty much every kind of parenting there is. Granted this is not the most scientific source, but it is testimony of really mothers doing real things, and I find that to be invaluable.

Anyway, by the time I was big and heavy with Virginia, I had read all about the benefits of placenta consumption, how to do it, and who to call if I don't want to do it myself. But I still wasn't planning on it. One of the primary benefits is to balance out hormones and prevent postpartum depression, which has never been a problem in the past so I didn't expect it to be an issue this time. After the birth we put the placenta in the freezer, unwilling to throw it out but unsure what we were going to do with it. Two weeks out I was an emotional wreck, and like all those other things I thought were weird, I found myself contemplating something that I thought I'd never do. I decided to encapsulate my placenta (which is the act of turning my placenta into little pills that I can take). Ideally this is done the day of the birth, but I knew I'd still get lots of benefits from it. So I enlisted a birthy friend's help and a week later got to work. Below is a summary of the process:

Here's my placenta, rinsed and ready to cook!

Steaming. This did NOT smell good!

Cut up and ready to dehydrate. And yes, that heart is the umbilical cord. I proudly wave my freak flag.

Dried and powdered, filling the pills.

The finished product. I made about 60 pills, but still have a lot of the powder left to make more when I run out.

So here I am two months later--a cloth diapering, mama cloth wearing, homebirthing, delayed vaxing, placenta-eating mama. I am still taking my placenta pills. Did it help? Well I don't know for sure whether it was time, activity, or the pills that healed my wounds (or a combo of all), but I can tell you that I started feeling better about the time I started taking them.

Birth story

Its been a while... but I thought I'd post about the birth of my sweet new baby girl, Virginia Kay. It won't be as eloquent as my sister's beautiful post about the birth, but it is from my perspective and a lot more detailed. Enjoy! Beware, this will be LONG. A good read if you've got some time to kill.

Our story starts at 37 weeks pregnant, which was the first time I went into labor. I woke up at 4am with contractions, mainly in my back. They were strong enough to keep me out of bed. I thought this was it, and called Debbie (my midwife) at 6am. My mom came over and stayed with me that day, but in the afternoon the contractions went away. Still, we thought the real thing would be at any moment. This same thing happened again at 38 weeks, so when I hit 40 weeks I was quite surprised to still be pregnant. I didn't even reach my due date in either of my other pregnancies. At my 40 week appointment I was so over being pregnant. I had Debbie check my cervix and wanted her to strip my membranes. To my dismay she could barely even reach my cervix, and it was still thick and about 1-2cm dilated. This is unusual for me too, as I had dilated to 4cm by no later than 39 weeks in previous pregnancies. I went home crying, sure I would never go into labor. The next day I wrote out a pep-talk to myself: you WILL go into labor... your body grew this baby, your body can birth this baby... It helped. Over the next two weeks I had a few more bouts of prodromal labor, but it always fizzled out, even after lasting a whole day. I was desperate to have this baby, and trying everything to get her out.

Christmas came, still pregnant. 42 weeks, Oy! The next day (42+1) I called Debbie to talk options. I was DONE. I was pretty sure that if she broke my water I'd go quick, but neither of us really wanted to do that cold. We also discussed doing a biophysical profile with the OB on Monday, but I didn't like that much either. We finally decided to try stripping my membranes again, and if that triggered labor Debbie would come break my water. We were committing--no fizzling out this time. At the appointment I measured 37 weeks and wondered if the baby was losing weight. Ha! Anyway, the stripping worked and on the way home I started having some decent contractions, about two minutes apart. They remained consistent throughout the car ride and during a brisk walk with my mom at home. After about an hour I called Debbie to tell her I was in labor, and she said she'd come over. I also called my sister Jenny and friend (and doula) Pam.

We packed the girls off with my dad, and Jamie, my mom, and I waited, me laboring on the birth ball. Jenny arrived, followed by Rachael, Corrinna (the apprentices), and Pam. I felt strange that all these people were here to watch me, and a little self-conscious. Were there too many people? Later I'd be grateful for all those hands... Debbie was the last to arrive, having been detained by a flat tire! Thankfully it was fixed quickly and she arrived around 3pm. We went into the bedroom where she checked my cervix, and found me to be about 3-4cm but very thin and stretchy. We decided to go ahead with breaking my water.

I could tell with the next contraction that things had changed. Ow! Now THAT was more like it! I asked Jamie to fill the birth pool. The contractions were rapidly gaining strength. I went into the hallway to breathe through one and saw Debbie come toward me beaming. She said "I'm sorry, but I'm just so happy to see you in pain!" Me too, Debbie. Me too.

It was getting intense, quickly. I wanted to get in the pool but it wasn't ready. I used the 30 seconds I had between each contraction to get ready for the tub--take off clothes (breathe, sway), put on sports bra (move, moan), put hair in pigtails (pant, breathe, lean on Pam). I think Debbie was a little shocked at just how quickly this had worked--I was vocalizing not even 15 minutes after breaking my water.

I got in the pool before it was full. We had run out of hot water. I was pissed. I snapped at Jamie for not divining that the hot water would run out and planning accordingly. This marked the beginning of transition. I was shaking badly. The tub wasn't hot enough so they were boiling water with every pot we had, plus our electric kettle (handy little thing). I was also beginning to complain that my uterus wasn't completely relaxing between contractions. This feeling intensified until the contractions were just rolling on top of each other with no break in between. I couldn't catch my breathe. I felt tense, like I couldn't get on top of them. What I would've given for a 30 second break! My back killed, I HAD to have pressure, massage, hot water on my lower back. All at once. Harder. Not there, over there. Harder! I had four pairs of hands pressing on my back, and it wasn't enough. I had to move my body. Bounce. Sway. I wanted to get up and run away, but I knew I couldn't walk even if I tried.

This all lasted about an hour and a half. It felt crazy, chaotic, intense. Out of control. But I managed. I had no choice. I tried to let it roll over me. I did whatever I needed to at each moment just to survive. There was no such thing as comfort, just "ok, this will work for a minute". The next minute it might not, but we'll deal with that later. I went from silent to growling to crying to laughing. Yes! I laughed again, just like in Juliet's birth! I LOVE that. I laughed hysterically at nothing in particular. It was the easiest moment of my labor, even though I roared through the next contraction.

Throughout this time I steadily began feeling more pressure until I was bearing down a little with the contractions. Debbie checked me at one point and I was 8-9, although I didn't really care how far along I was. If the baby was still in me it wasn't far enough. I never got the overwhelming urge to push like my last birth, just really intense pressure. When I would push in earnest I'd get a bad cramp in my butt, so I had to take it easier. I'd push through some contractions, then breathe through some. I had a lip, then it was gone. Debbie told me the baby was right there, feel her! Push her out! (easy for you to say). Push! Ow! Cramp! Stop pushing! Push again! Ow! Finally the pushing felt different and I could feel her coming down. Ring of fire. High pitched scream. Crowning...this is it...maybe...no? Still crowning. Half of head out. Why is this taking so long? Head out. Yay! Now this is really it...maybe...no...

At this point things get a little hazy for me. I remember what happened but not really how it felt. It seemed quick and so slow at the same time. I was semi-sitting as I pushed the head out. When Debbie told me to flip onto my hands and knees, the doula in my head immediately turned to that page in Ina May's Guide to Childbirth about the Gaskin Maneuver. Shoulder Dystocia. Don't think, just do what she tells me. Stand up. No, this isn't working. Walk to the bed (or waddle as the case may be). I end up on my hands and knees, gripping the headboard, pushing with all my might while Debbie pulls desperately on the baby's head. Please, baby, please come out! I had no urge to push, but was trying as hard as I could. Still not working. Flip over, Melanie. Knees to your ears. PUSH!

"Debbie, just cut me if you need to!"
"Trust me, that wouldn't help."

I don't remember the pain, but I remember how hard it was. How ineffective it felt. Everyone around me encouraging me, begging me to push, and feeling like it wasn't doing a damn thing. How much time has gone by? Debbie finally reaches her arm inside me, behind the head, and releases the shoulder that is stubbornly caught on my pubic bone. I feel the baby come out of me. Finally! I cry. I can't look down yet. I'm waiting. Debbie is rubbing the baby with a towel. Then I hear it, the sound I'm waiting for. A sweet baby cry. Oh my God! The sweetest sound in the whole world. I cry harder and look down at my baby. My relief in this moment is as powerful as the contractions that were gripping my body minutes ago. Debbie places Virginia on my belly and I meet my baby girl. She is beautiful and perfect. And HUGE. Its like those movie birth scenes where they hold up the obviously 3-month-old baby and pretend its a newborn. Yeah right, nice try guys.

An initial check reveals a brachial plexus palsy in her right arm, a tender neck, and some bruising, but otherwise Virginia has come away unscathed. We try nursing but she'd rather just rest awhile (can you blame her?). I just stare out her, overwhelmed by everything. We all slowly start breathing normally again, and then even begin smiling, laughing, joking. Crisis over! A child is born! Joy! About 90 minutes later Debbie does the newborn exam. The moment of truth: Debbie weighs Virginia. "Mind if I snicker?", she says after reading the scale to herself. She turns it around and we all shriek. 10 pounds!! What?! I just gave birth to a 10 pound baby. In my bed. At home. Surrounded by people I love and trust. More Joy. My heart swells. What an experience!

I am now 6 weeks postpartum. It has been a tough recovery involving blood, sweat, tears, milk, fever, phone calls, car crashes, chiropractors, and (ahem) placentophagy. But most of all love. Support. Community. Family.

Congratulations if you made it this far! Thanks for sharing my experience.

no-poo

I've still felt on this kick on natural cleaning supplies--both for the house and the body. The last week or two I've been washing my face with olive oil, and today was my first day trying the "no-poo" method of hair cleaning. First I had to let it get nice and greasy so I didn't wash it for 6 days. Last night when I took it out of its ponytail and it maintained the ponytail shape, I figured it was ready to go. So this morning I took my bath and mixed some baking soda with water, poured it over my head and massaged it into my roots. Rinsed, then mixed Apple Cider Vinegar with water, poured it over hair, and rinsed. It felt way different than using shampoo and conditioner. Post-shower I combed my hair and it felt pretty soft. Its still wet so we'll see how it feels when its dry.

I did, however, lose about a pound of hair during my bath. Seriously I think I could've donated the collective hairball I made to a wig company. I don't know if its normal, or just because I let my hair get so greasy, or maybe something to do with the pregnancy? Oh well.

So that covers face and hair. Anybody have a good natural recipe for body cleaning?? ;-)

Anyway I'm off to get ready. I have my first appointment with my homebirth midwife, and then a much-awaited playdate with a friend I haven't seen in nearly a year!

Gone

Yes, you've probably wondered where my blog has gone. Its been over a month since I've blogged. Sorry everyone, I didn't mean to neglect it so much.

The fact is that I've been feeling like major crap since last time I blogged. I think pretty much everyone who reads this already knows that I'm pregnant. Well, morning sickness reared its ugly head 3 or 4 weeks ago and is really knocking me down. I feel nauseated and exhausted ALL. THE. TIME. I don't remember it being quite this bad with the previous two, but maybe its just that I'm in the throws of it right now so it just seems worse. Or maybe its because I now have to take care of two small children this time while feeling so sick.

I've also had a few complications this time around. I have something called a subchorionic bleed, which is like a clot in between the uterine wall and the gestational sac. It has caused some bleeding and cramping, and I'm on instructions to rest, avoid excercise, and try not to pick up the kids (when possible). The no-excercise thing kinda stinks because I miss my yoga class and bet that it would help me feel a lot better. The good news is that the baby is doing well, and as much as I hate the morning sickness it as at least a little reassuring. I've had 3 ultrasounds already to check the bleed, and its fun to see the little jelly bean in there! If I get a chance I'll scan the pics in and post them.

As for my nutrition plan, that is definitely on hold at the moment. I'm basically in survival mode for eating right now, and I just have to go with what sounds good (even if its junk food). Unfortunately I have a habit of developing aversions to things I ate in early pregnancy, which this time around means roasted veggies, greens, and whole grains. Basically everything healthy, ha!

Anyway, all this to say that I'm going to try giving this blog a little more TLC than its been getting. That also means that from this point on I'm going to stop using Buffy titles as my blog titles (for those of you that noticed), because one of the biggest barriers to me writing recently has been that I don't have the brain energy to sit down and think of a clever title for my blog, so I end up not writing at all.

Thanks for reading--hopefully I'll write again soon!

Goodbye Iowa

i.e. big corn i.e. processed foods

Well this past couple weeks I've been putting my plan into action. I signed up for a CSA with Moore Farm & Friends and picked up my first box on Wednesday. I also signed up with My Dad & Me Farms to pick up raw milk every other week. I can't tell you how amazing it felt to hand my money straight to the farmer and have them reach in their fridge and hand me a glass jar of milk, while the cows from which the milk came were grazing in the background.

So far I've managed to cook whole foods and nutritious meals every night. This is so new to me but I've really enjoyed it! I've included some pictures of my undertakings from the past week. The only meal I didn't take a picture of was broccoli soup, but I can tell you that it just looks like green slime. Anyway, here we go:

Meal 1: Beets over Beet Greens over Couscous

Meal 2: Broccoli Soup (no pic)

Meal 3: Orzo with Black Beans, Red Peppers, and Avocados in a dressing of Olive Oil, Cumin, Lime Juice, and Garlic.

Meal 4: Vegetable Curry (potatoes, broccoli, carrots, and onions) over Couscous

Meal 5: Fresh Salad with Butter Lettuce, Blackjack Tomatoes, Avocado, and Tilapia in a homemade Red Wine Vinaigrette

And here is picture of my first CSA box! It contained lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, carrots, and strawberries.

Happy healthy eating everyone!!