Birth Story

This Sunday, our little girl joined our family. Her birth was an amazing and, by all accounts, unique experience, and enough people have asked to hear it that I thought I would document it here (Facebook limits characters in posts!). There's a moderate amount of labour details in this post, so be warned if you don't like reading that kind of stuff.

First some background: Before we got pregnant, I knew that I wanted to have a natural birth. I had decided on this for a number of reasons, but the benefits to my child were the main motivation. I was also looking forward to having a profound birthing experience with my husband and child, which I have learned anecdotally comes best with natural births. To prepare for this goal, we did a lot of things but the main preparations were a Hypnobirthing course that my husband I took, and reading "The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Childbirth and Labour" by Stephanie Goer. Both of these resources suggesting writing a detailed birth plan for both yourself and your health care providers. We wrote out all our wishes concerning medical interventions, the delivery, how people treat us at the hospital etc. However, hospitals have set protocols, and health care providers are humans with their own opinions, so there's only so much a birth plan can control. This was something that weighed on me as the pregnancy progressed, and I learned about certain things that I would not be able to negotiate.

Another issue that crept up was the risk of being induced. I had made it to term with no sign of going into labour. At my 40 week appointment, I was told that the standard practice is to induce by 42 weeks. I had to book a biophysical foetal profile at 41 weeks (which allowed us to see Vivienne on Ultrasound, so that was good), and a stress test for the middle of the next week. If I had made it to the stress test, I would have booked the induction at that appointment. At this point, I was 41 weeks and 2 days pregnant, so time was really running out for a naturally occurring labour. My resistance to being induced is also lengthy, but briefly, it can harm the child, and the chances of a natural labour plummet. We were basically being faced with the option of 1) rejecting medical advice and going it alone, either a birthing center that we would have to track down in a matter of days or at home, with a homebirth midwife, which we would have to hire by the birth, or 2) foregoing our wishes for the labour and doing what the medical profession told us to. Neither option was particularly appealing, so we went into overdrive of trying to get labour to start. I solicited wives-tales from friends on Facebook, read internet forums and asked my Doula and midwife. I followed them all at least once, but the main attempts were lots of Evening Primrose Oil, exercise, and spicy foods.

On Saturday, we went on a 3 mile trail around the Holyoke reservoir (which was a lovely walk that I highly recommend to fans of the outdoors). We then went to get Thai food with a friend and I ordered a blazingly hot curry, and the good folks at Thai Place certainly delivered.

On Sunday morning, I woke up a couple of times around 5am feeling a little crampy, which I attributed to my ambitious curry consumption. I went in and out of the toilet a few times, but each time I got into bed I became uncomfortable again and had to get up again. It occurred to me that this may be early labour, but I had spent the week thinking any minor movement in my belly was labour, so I was trying not to get my hopes up. Also, the curry was the more logical candidate. I decided against waking my husband until I was sure, and in lieu of being able to get into bed, I ran a bath and listened to my hypnobirthing CDs. I noticed that the cramps were spaced out evenly so documented their frequency which was at about 7 minutes. These were on the level of period pains, so I decided to let Nick sleep until I was sure I was in real labour, and, if I was, to keep his energy for when I had lost mine.

I got bored (and pruney) in the bath by about 8am, so woke Nick up and told him I was pretty sure things were starting. I got back into bed and Nick patiently massaged my back (and watched basketball on mute) as I worked on hypnosis and napped between each contraction. Nick called our Doula, Marie, who arrived at about 10am, and for the next few hours I stayed in bed sleeping between each contraction. The contractions were holding at 6-7 minutes apart and still within the level of period pains. Had I been in a hospital, they would have called this Early Labour, and likely would have said it had stalled. However, you're not even meant to go to the hospital until contractions are at least 5 minutes apart. The contractions weren't getting closer or stronger, and Nick and Marie tried to convince me to got for a short walk but I really didn't want to be out of bed. Eventually, they haggled for me to walk to the bathroom which is next door to our bedroom.

Marie suggested that I may be comfortable sitting on the toilet, and I am lucky that she did, because during one of my next contractions my water broke. That was about 1.15pm. All of a sudden, I went from having mild cramps that I could sleep between to having immense contractions with no real break in-between. The next 20 minutes are a blur to me, but pieced together from Nick and Marie's accounts. The next contraction was 5 minutes apart, then four minutes apart, then three then two. They were also extremely intense and I had to grab onto Nick's arms and dangle from him while they lasted. There was talk of getting to the hospital and the midwives were phoned to be told we were on our way. I was sure I could feel the baby coming, but Nick and Marie (as well as the birthing classes we took) assured me that it just felt that way, and that I was hours away from the baby actually arriving. Nevertheless, I felt like the baby may have been crowning. After the next contraction, I knew she was coming. Marie looked to see what was going on, and instantly told Nick to call 911. The next contraction brought the baby's head. I couldn't see, but Marie said the baby was trying to cry. During that contraction Nick was out of the room to call 911 and it was awful doing it without him. He was back in the room for the next one, which brought the rest of the baby and Nick delivered his daughter at 1.38pm. She was handed to me, and we heard the EMTs arriving.

The main EMT was a really nice guy, and he checked out Vivienne with Nick. She had a great colour, and an Apgar score of 9 (at the hospital we found out that she is 22" long and weighed in at 9lb 7oz). I should point out that given my day started in a bathtub, I wasn't wearing any clothes at this point, which now had 3 EMTS and a cop standing around me. It sounds weird, but I really didn't care. I think I was so amazed by what had just happened, and in awe of holding my daughter that vanity fell by the wayside. I was given a little hospital robe and we walked downstairs to the stretcher. I hopped on, and held Vivienne as we rode to the hospital - definitely a more comfortable alternative to being stuck having contractions in a car. The hospital staff greeted us, and everyone was amazed by our story. The midwife who settled us in said in thirty years she had never heard of anything like this.

So, that's pretty much the story of our birth. Typing the portion of the active labour took longer than the active labour itself. I have no idea how it went so fast, but Hypnobirthing promises a shorter labour (though, I don't think they meant only 20 minutes of active labour!). Either way, it was an amazing experience, and looking over the birth plan we wrote, we got every single thing we asked for, just not how we expected it.

Puppp This!

I should buy a lottery ticket, certainly before I wrap up my pregnancy. My rationale for taking up gambling is that I have spent my daughter's gestation beating the odds on the symptom front.

I found the following statistics on the interwebs, so please don't quote them in a professional forum, but I think they illustrate my point nicely. The most oft cited side-effect of pregnancy is morning sickness, which affects about 65-70% of women. I didn't throw up once. Depending on which website you go to, swelling affects 75-90% of women. I am 4 days past my due date and I still have my wedding ring on. In fact, working my way down the "Most Common Pregnancy Symptoms" list I googled, I didn't get any acne, spot bleeding, back or pelvis aches etc. I'll admit that I have peed a little more often and have bought more antacids than usual, but I would argue that if something can be replicated by a night out drinking, it's hardly a bona fide side effect.

All in all, I was loving being pregnant. I had this little life inside me that I could feel moving around. Unencumbered by such plebeian concerns as vomiting or searing lumbar pain, I could enjoy preparing for her arrival, daydreaming about how she will grow up, and generally getting the most out of this wonderful time. After all, I had dodged all of the common symptoms of pregnancy!

Here endeth the bragging. I have already blogged about my rhinitis of pregnancy, which, if you include runny noses stemming from queuing for a taxi in the cold as part of a normal night out, can be eliminated as a sympathy-meriting side effect. Triviality notwithstanding, this was step one of my lottery ticket idea as less than 15% of pregnant women experience this symptom.

But in the last week, I have really hit the jackpot of rare symptoms. I had some stretch marks below my naval since the middle of my third trimester. Being so in love with pregnancy, they really didn't bother me at all. However, the Universe obviously got sick of hearing me say "My pregnancy has been a breeze." and "I hope this pregnancy lasts as long as possible because I am really enjoying it.", and decided to unleash the fate I had so adeptly tempted. A few weeks ago, my stretch marks got a little itchy. Nothing terrible; kind of in the range of how it feels if you didn't shower right after a good workout. But over the next few days, the itchiness got more intense and frequent. I read up on itchy stretch marks, and stumbled across the term Puppp.

Puppp, or pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy (translation: itchy bumps that preggos get), starts out as mild itchiness below the belly, but spreads around the torso, down the extremities and basically everywhere that's not hands or face. The itchiness gets more and more intense and there's nothing that can be done for it, other than the pregnancy coming to an end. I think I am getting close to scratching my way to a C-section, so I may be able to accommodate that cure. And it goes without saying, that having your entire torso covered in "papules and plaques" can only make you look even sexier in those last days of pregnancy. Couple that with the image of someone vigorously scratching themselves as if they were infested with scabies and you start to paint quite the picture. I normally take photos to add to blog entries where relevent, but if you google Puppp, you'll see why I deviated on this occasion.

Puppp affects less than 1% of pregnant women, and while the cause is unknown, 70% of that 1% deliver boys. Other suspects include large babies (causing excess distension of the skin). I have been assured my midwife that my daughter is both female and normally sized. If my math isn't failing me, and I offer no guarantees on that point, that puts me in an elite group with 0.3% of pregnant women. Yippee!

As I mentioned, I am four days beyond my due date and I am doing everything I can think of to induce labour. It's been 2 weeks since I have slept for longer than 2 hours at a time, before needing to reapply my Aveeno Oatmeal lotion, which only sort of works. Another blogger summed up the misery best when she said that she would have traded Puppp for a different condition that could potentially kill her, on the condition that it didn't cause itchiness. Also, and this may be the itchiness-induced sleep deprivation speaking, but the phrase Puppp is patronizingly diminutive! Were Kittt or Bunnn already taken?

All that said, the Universe can go and bite itself. As miserable as this condition is, anytime I feel my daughter kick, hiccup or wiggle around, I am so in love with the experience that I don't feel anything but unadulterated joy. Now, if you will excuse me, I am off to buy a lottery ticket... and some Vindaloo curry!

A Blanket for Baby

Last weekend, I was given the gift of a wonderful handmade blanket from my friends in the South Bend knitting group. The blanket arrived to my house close to two weeks ago, but I wasn't allowed to open it. I confess that I tried poking my finger into the box to feel the blanket, but fortunately the person who sent it, Amy, knew me well enough to use enough packing tape to secure Fort Knox! The reason I had to wait was that my friend, Kristine, organized a Skpye reunion of the knitting group. We all got to sit and chat -while knitting- just like the old days. It was such a wonderful afternoon and I loved getting the opportunity to catch up with everyone.

The other highlight of the meeting was obviously the blanket. A tradition has arisen within our group that we collectively, and secretively, make blankets for members of the group that are pregnant. While many of us have moved away from South Bend, the tradition is still going strong (though involves an increasing amount of coordination via email), and is a lovely connection to a knitting group that we all held so dearly.

Prior to the gift opening, I had received a Knit Picks catalogue in the mail and was contemplating ordering some yarn to make a blanket for my daughter, to replace a recently frogged effort. It occurred to me that I should to wait to see what the girls had made for me, and I am lucky that I did because I would have picked the exact same colours they chose. My true luck is having friends that know me so well, they can pick colours I would buy myself! The blanket is now packed away in the hospital bag in anticipation of the arrival of its rightful owner (though I do take it out to peek at it every so often).



Thank you, South Bend knitters!

Cold Feet

In lieu of doing actual work whilst at work the other day -because that isn't going to happen- I was perusing Ravelry.com. My friends have been stubbornly refusing to keep me entertained with new project pictures or blog entries recently, so I resorted to reviewing my own projects. I have my projects sorted by category (Sweaters, Accessories, Babies, etc.). I was looking through the entries in my "Sock" category, when I rather depressingly noticed that the mortality rate for this particular type of knitted item is disturbingly high. I have completed eleven pairs of socks (I thought it was more), and a scant six pairs are still with us. One of the surviving pairs are the Earl Greys that I made for my husband. He wore them the day of the wedding, and has kept them in a ziplock bag ever since. I would like to think this protective measure was an act of sentimentality, but he informed me that they make his feet too hot, and that is why he doesn't wear them. Another surviving pair are the Universal Toe-Ups, which were the first pair of socks I ever made. The fact that they were made from the virtually indestructible 25% Nylon Magic Stripe yarn renders their survival somewhat less than triumphant. Also, as they hail from my earlier days of knowing how to measure gauge, they are a little on the baggy side and rarely worn as a result.

Alas, my favourite socks were invariably the ones that fell victim to early demises, which, while sad, stands to reason. All is not lost, though. While I have loved and lost, I have also learned. After the nascent phase of using man-made fibre heavy chain store yarns (e.g. Magic Stripes), I became consumed with hand-dyed, entirely natural fibres. While an important part of the learning curve, I have since developed a more balanced world view, where small amounts of nylon serve the greater reinforcement good, and superwash wool can protect from the heartbreak of surprise-feltings. Nonetheless, I wanted to bid adieu to my erstwhile footwarmers.

In Memoriam

2010-2010, felting accident

2009-2011, hole

2010-2010, lost

2010-2010, felting accident

2008-2009, felting accident

Knit-Knacks

I've decided to get back to the original point of this blog and talk about the random goings-on in my knitting. After all, as I am three weeks or so away from my due date, there may not be much knitting to discuss for a while once the baby gets here!

1. Ribbit
A friend of mine is a huge fan of raglan sweaters, citing the lack of seaming as a major factor in how fast they can be done. Having slaved through several seamed sweaters, I decided I wanted something that would go faster and cast on my first raglan sweater using Addi Turbos, and my newfound competency with continental knitting and purling, to expedite the project even more. That was a year ago.

The yarn for this project was purchased in a co-op, from which I purchased ten navy and five undyed skeins of Malabrigo worsted. I dyed three skeins with Kool-Aid to make an argyle using the navy as the main colour. After completing a long and difficult argyle pattern around the torso, I tried on my nearly knitted creation only to discover that my tension control in colourwork is terrible. It was so tight around my waist that I couldn't breathe and needed help getting back out of the sweater. Through tears of frustration*, I pulled out the argyle. I decided to knit to the bottom, and work 6-10" of a fancy cable pattern in place of ribbing. After a few repeats of that pattern (which involved 48 cables per round every 4 rows), I decided it wasn't what I wanted, and pulled that out. A few inches of K1P1 ribbing (which had to be done twice as I forgot which size needle had been used for the neck ribbing) later, and a very plain stockinette body was complete. I had really wanted to make something interesting with this yarn, so it seemed an awful shame to make the whole sweater in boring stockinette. To try and get some patterning onto it, I am doing XOXO cabling down the arms. So far, I am happy with it and hopefully it makes the sweater a little interesting.

I estimate that I will have four skeins of navy and a few skeins of Kool-Aid dyed Malabrigo left, so I will make a sweater with that, only this time I will plan ahead. I have come to the conclusion that while raglan sweaters are infinitely faster than their seamed counterparts, knowledge of their speed can lead the more impulsive among us into COing without thinking. More haste, less sweater.



2. The Kindness of Strangers
I received this blanket in the mail. It's a beautiful embossed leaves pattern in white baby yarn. It was given to me by a friend of my mother, whom I have never met. It matches a beautiful white cardigan that the same lady sent to me. It really makes me happy to know that there are people out there who are so considerate, they would take the time to make a baby blanket for someone they have never met.



3. The Future Tense of Ribbit
I should have frogged this blanket a long, long time ago. It's meant to be a crocheted Care Bear blanket, but I decided to knit it after I figured out that I am not very committed to huge colourwork crochet projects. Once I switched over to knitting, it started to go a lot faster, but as I got into the pattern, I realized that the Care Bear (Wish Bear, if you're interested), looked a tad squished. I decided to soldier on, reasoning that it wouldn't look so bad. The colours I chose for Wish Bear's rainbow that shoots out of the star on his tummy (they don't teach meteorology over at the DIC studios) were terrible and the star is a bit of a mess too. I decided that the embroidery called for in the pattern will fix the star, and some clever duplicate stitching could remedy the rainbow, and persevered. I am now about two thirds done, and it looks worse than ever. I have, however, gotten to a point where I have put so much work into it that I can't bear (hehe) the idea of undoing it all. I wanted to make this for my daughter by the time she was born. I can safely assume that isn't going to happen, and my time would be better spent making a Baby's Texture Blanket or Great American Afghan for her, but being oddly superstitious or ritualistic as I am, I can't quite detach myself from the self-imposed chore I have turned this project into. Clearly, my daughter is far less likely to say "What the heck is that meant to be?" if I present her with a blanket of squished bear who has a malformed stomach tattoo, than "You don't love me because you quit making a blanket of a defunct cartoon, neither of which I knew about because I wasn't born yet!". Reading this, I see how crazy I am. I am going home to frog this stupid project right now!!



* a slight exaggeration, but I was pretty peeved.

One Month Left.... Maybe.

Dear Vivienne,

According the free pregnancy application I have on my iPod, there is just under more month before I finally get to meet the source of all the kicking and hiccuping that has been going on inside my belly.

Before I get to gushing over how excited I am to meet my little girl, I want to thank you for the wonderful pregnancy you have let me have. We're always told that it's a wonderful and natural time, but the more anecdotes we hear from friends, reality TV and miscellaneous sources, the more terrifying it can seem. My mother had such terrible morning sickness that her obstetrician suspected that my brother (your Uncle Ben) was twins! Since witnessing her terrible bouts of illness, I assumed it was genetic and resigned myself to at least three months of nausea and vomiting. While I did feel a little off for a few weeks, I was delighted to never once get sick.

Now, with under a month to go, I feel safe enough declaring that my pregnancy has been spared the other unpleasant symptoms of swelling, bloating, aching, reasons to worry about foetal health, infections in strange places, vascular issues. In fact, you have made me drink so much water, while I avoided coffee and soda, that my skin has never looked better! I have started to waddle a bit, which I think means you have started to drop down, but this has relieved the minor yet bothersome heartburn I was experiencing, so the extremely mild discomfort is a happy trade-off for me. My tummy, while definitely pregnant, hasn't gotten too big, though in the last few days I have gone from looking pregnant to looking like I have been shoplifting a basketball. I have been lucky in that I only had to purchase one or two pairs of maternity pants and a belly band. Otherwise, my normal clothes (as well as a hoodie I stole from your Dad) have sufficed. I am happy to put the money toward more important things like you!

Speaking of money, we have been so blessed by the generosity of our friends, coworkers and families, that the preparations for your arrival haven't cost that much at all. Three baby showers in all were thrown to celebrate you, and it made us feel so blessed to have people who care about us, and who are that excited for your arrival.

Pregnancy has been, despite what I anticipated, a lot of fun. The highlights have been getting to see you on ultrasounds (even the ones you spent hiding behind your arms), or hearing your beautiful heartbeat during checkups. Probably my favourite thing is feeling you move. During the second trimester, you loved kicking me. It mostly happened at night, which made me worry that you were planning to be entirely nocturnal. Then you spent a couple of weeks piping up during the daytime. However, that didn't last, so I now think you may be a night owl like your mother. Now that you have gotten bigger, you don't kick so much, but you really enjoy crawling around which both looks and feels very strange (almost like something from a Sci-Fi movie), but in a wonderful way. You have also started hiccuping a lot, especially early morning, which amuses me and lets me know that you will have good, healthy lungs when you get here.

I have officially entered the "nesting" phase of pregnancy. My desire to sit on the couch and knit baby clothes during any free time has been replaced with an urge to organize every last detail of your bedroom, pack our hospital bag and generally get the house ready for you. One of our cats, Panthro, is very interested in your room, and loves getting into the Pack'n'Play that our colleagues bought for you. Buttons is less interested in your stuff, but has been quite affectionate to me lately, so he may take a liking to you when you get here.

I am getting more and more excited for the day of your arrival. Your father and I took a hypnobirthing class and that is the approach that we are going to take with your birth. I have been really careful about the things I put in or on my body (no make-up for the past 9 months), to keep us both healthy so that you can have the best start in life. I also kept up a reasonably regular exercise and yoga routine for the same reason. The natural childbirth we have planned is also intended to give you a healthy start to life. I was getting a little annoyed by the fact that peoples' instant reaction to hearing that we are planning a natural birth has been to share stories of disasters, or predict our failure. I had until recently apologetically responded by discussing our plans as what we "hope" to do, quickly following it up with "but we'll have to see how it goes". However, I have found inspiration from one or two friends, and for the remaining month, we have decided to be firmly positive in any discussion of your birth and not allow anyone to undermine our plans. We have a wonderful Doula named Marie, and I know that she is going to help make your birth an amazing experience for us all.

Your father is getting really excited too. He loves to feel you kick and often says "Hi Soybean" to my belly. You may not recognize his voice when you meet him because he insists upon talking to you in a funny voice (a la Andy from The Office when he was pretending that he and Pam were having a baby). I have been really grateful for the support he has given me, from taking my hormone-induced moods with good humour to attending all the various birthing and prenatal classes. He may jokingly complain to our friends, but he has participated enthusiastically and I am really lucky that he's going to be your Dad. I do want to mention that your father is picking your middle name. He hasn't made a decision yet, but if you don't like it, blame him!

Your first name was agreed upon by both of us, but I initially suggested it. Your great-grandmother, my paternal grandmother, was called Vivienne. I knew her as Granny, but I didn't think you would enjoy that as a name so we went with her given name. She was an amazing woman and I have such fond memories of her. She taught me how to knit because she was annoyed that my teddy bear, Horatio, was losing stuffing through two holes. She knit one patch to show me how, and I knit the other one to practice. I still have Horatio, and his patches are such a treasured memory that I will always keep him safe. Granny Vivienne was a strong, loving and intelligent woman, and while I will never refer to you as being named after her, I hope sharing her name will bless you with some of her qualities (particularly her ability to sing, because you will not be inheriting that from me!).

That's about all I can think to share with you now. I can't believe I am this close to holding you in my arms. We already love you, but I know we are going to love you so much more once you are born. I promise to be the best mother I can be, and to keep my neurotic worrying to a minimum. I have already begun to fret over any number of things that might affect you from prenatal issues all the way to your adulthood. Please learn to see that as my caring for you, and not be driven to crazy by my fussing. I promise that I will love you no matter what. I also promise that I will have never come up with any dreams for how you turn out or what you become, and instead use my efforts to help you fulfill the dreams you have come up with for yourself.

Love,

Your Mum

P.S. Here's how dorky your parents are... There's going to be a lot of parental embarrassment in your future!

10 Things #9: Bah Bah Baby!

There are many things that are very exciting about preparing to be a mother. Far from the most profound, but arguably the most fun, is the knowledge that you'll have about four solid years of dressing your child up in ridiculous outfits (beyond that point, they get big enough to fight back!). As a knitter, the desire to torture my child with silly outfits is only amplified. Long before I was pregnant, I discovered -and fell in love with -baby clothes that look like cute little animals. My friend, Carly, showed me her copy of New Baby Knits by Debbie Bliss, and as soon as I saw the little Bunny and Sheep costumes I was a woman possessed. I eventually bought my own copy, and as part of this challenge decided to make one. The sheep was picked because of yarn I had available around the house. I love the end product, but the hours and hours of stockinette coupled with the needless amounts of seeming made for a bit of a laborious project. I discovered another Ravelry user who had used Berroco Plush to make her sheep outfit, and I think it worked much better with the project. My favourite part of my FO is the buttons I found at Webs!!

That's Nine!