15 November 2010

Come Out with Me

There's sun on the river and sun on the hill . . .
You can hear the sea if you stand quite still!
There's eight new puppies at Roundabout Farm--
And I saw an old sailor with only one arm!

But every one says, "Run along!"
(Run along, run along!)
All of them say, "Run along! I'm busy as can be."
Every one says, "Run along,
There's a little darling!"
If I'm a little darling, why don't they run with me?

There's wind on the river and wind on the hill . . .
There's a dark dead water-wheel under the mill!
I saw a fly which had just been drowned--
And I know where a rabbit goes into the ground!

But every one says, "Run along!"
(Run along, run along!)
All of them say, "Yes, dear," and never notice me.
Every one says, "Run along,
There's a little darling!"
If I'm a little darling, why won't they come and see?

When I heard Sammy quietly quoting this A.A. Milne poem the other day ("Run along, little darling!"), I felt I'd been guilty of saying "Yes, dear" one too many times lately. Sammy follows me everywhere, and because he's a non-stop chatterer, we talk a lot. But over the last two and a half months, he has definitely had to amuse himself more than ever around all the newborn bustle.

Here is a small portion of his busy-ness and his evolving imagination. Unfortunately, I have no pictures of the countless hours he's spent drawing, playing outside, climbing around piles of food storage, telling stories with his little trains, spinning or tumbling around, and otherwise tearing my house apart. He is so much fun.

Trains from Grandmama.

Reading and waiting.

Flying an "airplane."

Making "train tracks."

Being the train.

Photographer.

Practicing.

Taking care of his little violin in my big case.
(No, I don't know that this is his destiny.
But he can sing "tucka tucka" on pitch
and take a bow: "ichi ni san shi")

Painting.

Playing "trombone" with a piece of my clothes dryer.

Squirreling around.

This phase lasted a while. He would find four of my boots,
put two on feet and two on hands, and walk around shouting "Bana!!"
(???)

Balancing act.

Those tomato paste cans got some good wear.
(No pun intended.)

Kitchen play.
(Diaperless at the time; I used the "retouch" to give him some modesty.)

Making bread.

An "ark."

A "house."

A "train."

Samuel has been so sweet to his little brother. He talks to him and shows him his things, and regularly comments on his behavior: "Daniel is sad!" "Daniel is tired!" Daniel woke up!" "Daniel is happy!" "Daniel drinking Mama's milk!" He has also been such a good helper to me. He'll get me a blanket if I ask, or turn off the tiring music on the bouncy chair that gets inadvertently flipped on by floundering feet. Sammy seems to understand when I can't be by his side, but I need to be careful not to tell him to "run along" too often, lest I miss my chance to "come and see!" and be a part of his discoveries.

What a boy. I'm grateful little Daniel has such a friend and brother.



17 September 2010

Daniel's Birth Story


I love reading birth stories, and I'm assuming that if you clicked on this post, you do too. I'm happy to be sharing the details of my recent labor and birth experience with you. It's long, but I had a hard time knowing what to leave out! If you've come for pictures only, most of them are at the end. Enjoy!

Though quite different as a whole, this labor was similar to my first in a couple prominent ways: it happened about eight days "late," and early/active labor dragged on and on. I had a few mild contractions in the late hours of Monday, August 30, but went easily to sleep that night, not knowing if anything would come of them. I woke up to a stronger one around midnight and by 2:30, they were coming about every 7 minutes. I was excited, though a little sad because I really wanted Keenan to be able to give his first Music History lecture at San Diego State University that morning. We had actually gone to bed by about 10:00 so he could be up by 5:00 AM to get on the road. The unusually early bedtime was a great blessing for my labor.


I got up between 2:30 and 3:00 to take some supplements and didn't go back to bed. When Keenan's alarm went off just before 5:00, we talked and decided he probably shouldn't go to San Diego, as we had no way of knowing how things would progress. If he went, he wouldn't be home until noon. So he made arrangements to cancel the first class, which ended up working out just fine. I called my mom in the morning, who decided to buy a plane ticket and be in California by the evening. I was glad she would be coming.


Keenan gave me a beautiful priesthood blessing in the morning that endowed me with confidence for my labor. Specifically, he blessed me to be able to focus on the spiritual aspect of the experience and connect with my Savior as the contractions became more difficult. Later on, I was able to remember this promise and draw comfort from it.


Labor contractions continued about 7-10 minutes apart for most of the day. I felt centered, focused, and calm as I rode through each one, generally sitting on my yoga ball. Throughout my labor, I was continuously awed by the tremendous power of my body in bringing down the baby. It just knew what to do, and I was grateful to be feeling and experiencing every bit of it. The beginning of this labor was very similar to Samuel's, except I ate a lot more this time, which I’m certain helped me have more energy. We went to the L.A. Arboretum as a family around 11:00 to walk around, take some stairs, and get things moving a bit. It was lovely to be there. We stopped at In ‘N Out on the way home and ordered some double-doubles animal style, knowing the iron, protein, and carbs could only help! Even after the walking, my contractions did not really get any closer together, which was a little frustrating and tiring for me. I had a good cry in the afternoon. That made me feel better.


When Samuel awoke from his midday nap, Keenan took him over to a friend's to stay until Mom could pick him up after 9:00. It was good timing for him to go, and I knew he would be happy there. When Keenan came home, he called my doula, Mary Jo, who strongly recommended we try walking again to help quicken labor. I wasn't convinced it would help, but it buoyed me up just to get outside. As we started the walk to Live Oak Park, contractions came with greater frequency. Keenan kept track in his planner, but wouldn’t tell me the times or intervals, which was good because I just get too concerned with time. He was such an incredible labor coach. He had so many great ideas about how to weather the contractions, especially in a public park. We had fun walking up and down the little baseball bleachers in creative ways to bring on the contractions and help open my pelvis to facilitate baby's descent. Walking extra fast was also helpful. Those park contractions were the best and longest I’d had all day, and I felt grateful for them. When the park started becoming more crowded, and people started giving us wondering looks, we decided to head home. It had been about an hour and a half, and contractions had quickened to 5-minute intervals. I was greatly encouraged.


Not long after our walk, we decided to head to the hospital. We arrived there sometime between 7:30 and 8:00, after four somewhat uncomfortable contractions in the car. As we arrived, they were getting even closer, but predictably spaced out a bit as we checked in. They took us into triage, where they monitored baby’s heartbeat for twenty minutes. We couldn't go to a labor and delivery room until the midwife on call admitted us. We had to wait quite a while for her, as she was attending another birth when we arrived. In the meantime, we were met by our wonderful doula, Mary Jo. It was wonderful to have her there with us. She kept notes, asked the staff for things I needed, and provided needed emotional and physical support. She was definitely a calming presence, as we thought she would be. We spent a long time in triage, just the three of us, working together. We were the only ones in there for about two hours! My body picked back up, and I thought maybe I would end up having the baby right there, with just Keenan and Mary Jo. That would have been just fine with me.


The midwife on call was Hilda, who I’d never met at the clinic, but who we liked very much. After 10:00, she was finally able to come in and found me to be dilated to about an 8. I knew for sure I'd be at least 6-7, so I was very happy to hear that. We were admitted to a room and Keenan put on the beautiful playlist I'd put together, which I entitled "Rhythm of Life" (don't worry, that song wasn't on there). I took each contraction on my birth ball with Keenan in front of me, encouraging and coaching, noticing where tension tended to spring up and using key words to help me open and release. Mary Jo took the rear, using needed counter-pressure on my hips and lower back, which had started aching through the contractions. She heated a rice bag for my back, which felt divine.


We were incredibly impressed with the cooperation of the attending hospital staff, who exceeded my highest expectations for a hospital birth. Everyone quickly familiarized themselves with my birth plan, making no objections to my requests, which were geared toward a completely intervention-free experience. Once I was in my L&D room, they didn’t even monitor me, except once for five minutes (I was sure they’d insist on at least 20 minutes each hour). I was so grateful for their respect and flexibility! The midwife was very busy with other laboring mothers, so it remained the three of us working in my room together, very privately. This is just what I wanted.


In L&D (with Mary Jo)

Please note stylish hospital footwear.


After 11:00, the contractions seemed to change a bit, but I wasn't sure why. At 11:20, I had Hilda come check me again, as I thought maybe I was fully dilated. According to Mary Jo's notes, she found me to be 80% effaced, 0/-1 station, and 8 cm, letting me know that I was likely a 7 at the earlier exam. This was very discouraging to me, and Hilda was apologetic about mistakenly getting my hopes up earlier. The contractions were intense, and exhaustion was quickly setting in. I considered having her break my bag of water, hoping it might speed things up, but she said she thought I should sit on my ball at the foot of the bed and rest forward on a pillow between contractions. She said she could come back at 2:00 AM and check me again. I couldn’t comprehend that I might not be fully dilated for that much longer. I felt despair.


In the one-night refresher childbirth class we took during this pregnancy, our wonderful teacher, Kathy, taught us about the emotional map of labor, which indicates how a woman is progressing through labor by how she is feeling.It’s actually more helpful to pay attention to these signs than by checking dilation, which can just be discouraging, as I definitely experienced. Kathy said that in early labor, the woman's emotional response is excitement; in active labor, it’s “this is work;” and during the transitional stage, it’s self-doubt. It makes sense that Hilda was a little off in her first assessment because I didn’t feel overwhelmed by the process until this last stretch (which may also have been influenced by her suggestion that I would continue until 2:00 AM... I really got hung up on those words). This is when I felt truly exhausted, incapable, and almost crazy at choosing to labor this way.


After Hilda left, Keenan strongly reassured me that every woman and every labor is different and that she could be totally wrong about how fast I would dilate. He told me that I could take the contractions and believe in myself in a way that would help my body dilate faster. My bond with Keenan definitely deepened as we experienced this labor and birth together. During labor, I had thought to compare myself to an Indian woman (sorry to be politically incorrect), laboring by herself in the wilderness to bring forth her child, but in reality, it would not have happened as it did without Keenan by my side. He was perfect.


At this point in labor, I offered a fervent prayer to Heavenly Father, telling him I doubted I could go much longer, being so weary already. I thought of the Atonement of Christ and how several times, he pled with the Father to let the cup pass, and I wondered if his pains also came in waves, like mine. I knew that he couldn’t deliver Christ from his sufferings, and I wondered if he would deliver me from mine. I prayed that he would deliver the child, and hoped he would. I knew that my labor to bring life to this child was giving me a glimpse into Christ's labor to bring Life to all mankind. This is what initially inspired me to have my children naturally.


At this time, I also reflected on two stories from my favorite book on childbirth, Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth. In one, a woman is talking to Ina May and expresses her disbelief that something that big could come through such a small space. Ina May held her hands up and explained it to her this way, “You’re going to get huge!” At the birth, Ina May was amazed at how this first-time mother opened up when the child was being born. She said she’d never seen anything quite like it, and that she could have accommodated a much larger baby with ease. As she discussed it with the mother afterward, the woman explained that she just kept repeating to herself the mantra Ina May had given her: “I’m going to get huge… I’m going to get huge…” and her body obeyed. The second story I recalled was about woman who helped her cervix dilate by saying, “I just want to open up and let this baby out.” Ina May was checking her at the time and actually felt her dilate 2 cm as she said those words.


The next 45 minutes were difficult. I would lie forward on the pillow between contractions and try to rest. As each one came, Keenan would tell me to open and I would repeat the words out loud during many of the contractions: “I just want to open… I just want to open… open… open…” It was hard, but I truly believed that I could influence my body to open quickly, in spite of what was considered typical, and in spite of my body's precedent for slow progress. I started having the urge to push that I remembered so well from Sammy’s labor. Sher had told us that it would start to come near the end of transition, and that I must not push until fully dilated because it could cause the cervix to swell and prove a real setback. It was hard to resist these urges, but I knew that since I was only at 8, I had to do so.


Suddenly, after midnight, I had an extra long, extra intense contraction. My body would not take that welcome break to breathe. It just kept going and going and going. As soon as it seemed like it was possibly ebbing, it would fire up again. I remember looking to Keenan and saying, “why won’t it stop?” In my fatigue, I was sure that I hadn’t resisted the urge to push well enough and that I had somehow caused damage. I thought it might never stop! After about 6 minutes, when it abated enough for me to react, I got up and went into the bathroom. I can’t explain why I did this. It was not a conscious decision.


Toward the end of my pregnancy, I would pray often that during labor, the spirit would help me recognize and follow my instincts and also bring the helpful things I had learned to my remembrance. That prayer was definitely answered as I labored. Here at the end, I let the “informational” side of my brain trump the primal side a little, which is why I got hung up on the idea that I was doing something wrong. By stepping into the bathroom when I did, the instinctual side took the lead again.


I sat down on the toilet and another contraction came, but this time, hard as I tried, I could not by any measure resist the urge to bear down, and instinctively cried out like an Amazon woman as I let my body do what it wanted to do. It happened over and over, and it felt somewhat painful, which again convinced me that I was pushing prematurely (though I pushed a very long time in Sammy's labor, it was not painful). I impulsively reached down, only to feel something very unfamiliar. I thought, “what is that part of me?” but soon realized it was baby’s head crowning! I told Keenan, who was as surprised as I! Mary Jo stuck her head in and said the midwife was on her way. From the hallway, my nurse had heard the change in my laboring sounds (which had consisted mostly of deep vocalizations and horsie-type sounds) and sent for my midwife immediately. A few seconds later, Hilda came in, threw some pillows on the ground at my feet, and got ready to catch the baby. I had all these wonderful plans lined up for second stage labor (aromatherapy, hot compresses, another Shock Tea...), but there was no notice that it had started! By the time I realized that it was okay for the baby to be born, I tried very hard to breathe in a way that would give my body time to stretch, but there wasn’t much I could do to deter the little guy! His head was born, and Hilda asked me to stand so she could catch the body. I felt his body slide out and I reached down, took him from her, and held him close. He had the cord wrapped twice around his neck, which Hilda quickly unwound. He was beautiful and pink as can be, and definitely surprised us with his dark brown hair! It was 12:22 AM, September 1, 2010.


Seven minutes old.


Twenty-five minutes.


Almost 2 hours.



I held my baby to my chest completely uninterrupted for an hour and a half before they weighed and measured him (7 lbs. 15 oz., 19.5 inches) and moved us up to recovery. Mom and sweet Sammy came to visit and pick us up in the morning, and we left the hospital around noon. I was again impressed at how compliant the staff was to our requests. We wanted to leave the hospital as soon as possible so we could enjoy the lovely newness together as a family at home.






My labor to bring Daniel Stephen to the world was a very powerful and spiritual experience for me. As long as it lasted, and as intense as some of those moments were, I have only positive feelings as I consider it. "A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world" (John 16:21). I am in humble awe of the female body and it's incredible capability to create and deliver a child. Mothering is the most divine thing a woman can do. Daniel's forthcoming was a miracle and blessing from Heavenly Father, who never left me throughout the whole experience. This stands out as my most precious impression about my labor. He heard my prayer, recognized my faith, and I know that he did indeed deliver the baby.


In reference to bearing children, Brigham Young once said, "...I would cry out, like one of old, in joy of my heart, 'I have got a man from the Lord! Hallelujah! I am a mother! I have borne an image of God.'" My thoughts exactly.





29 August 2010

Anticipating Labor

What makes me think blogging is going to be any more appealing with a newborn in the house? I don't know what is pressing me to do this today, on the seventh day since my "due date." I guess I just need yet another nesting project, and may as well take the chance to officially announce my pregnancy before I have to post pictures of our new little guy.

I think the reason for the long blogging hiatus is that I've had too much to say. My journal has suffered a similar loss. There's been an overgrowth of thoughts and ideas, projects and changes in my life this year, and instead of getting a few of them down somewhere, I've opted out completely. The problem is that many of them will now disintegrate into the depths of my lonely mind unless I start somewhere! So here's to a comeback.

I am a little surprised every morning I wake up without being in labor, as I've been anticipating and looking forward to the experience. Last week, however, we had an unexpected development in the waiting game, which could explain the postponement of labor onset. Samuel contracted pneumonia! Sher said it could be because he's at the tail end of a growth spurt, thereby becoming low on iron, which can make one more prone to bacterial infection. Apparently, children can become deficient fairly quickly because of how fast they grow, so we really have to watch them. She says you can generally see if it's happening by the pallor of their skin. More on that later maybe.

He woke up Friday breathing about 60 times a minute, worrying me more than any of his other symptoms, which had been gradually worsening over the two preceding days. The horrible thing is that despite my disbelief, our thermometer was only registering him as having a temperature in the 99-100.4 range. Well, when we took him into the doctor on Friday, the nurse found his fever to be 103.9! Time for me to change the battery I guess (yikes)! So after a very unpleasant series of probing and testing, they discovered the pneumonia. We put him on an antibiotic, hoping baby would wait a couple more days to emerge so Sammy would be ready to welcome him with us. We'll be sure to give him lots of yogurt, kefir, and acidophilus to buoy him back up. :)

Sammy having a treatment to help clear his lungs
while hearing a version of the oft-requested "dump truck story."
In this one, the dump truck is being used in the copper mines
to help make pennies. Sammy got to keep the penny,
and clasped it tightly in his hand until we left.

Now that he is himself again, I am ready. I am genuinely excited for the labor and birth, and feel the last couple weeks have been a sacred time. My experience with Samuel left me feeling a little bittersweet about childbirth, but during this pregnancy I have come to terms with my anxieties, and I feel ready. Even though one can never quite predict how things will go, it's much easier to prepare the second time! Among other things, I've been preparing by being more connected with myself - recognizing and properly reacting to emotional charge, sensing tension in a way I never have before, linking spirit to body, breathing through distress, and just being more patient and positive about everything. Wonderfully, these things are helping me in many more ways than simply readying for childbirth.

I have enjoyed being pregnant a great deal. I feel like it's practically slipped right through my fingers! We don't really comprehend the scope and grandeur of the change that is upon us, but we're really looking forward to the adventure of having two little brothers around to keep us laughing and running.

I don't have many pictures of me in my late pregnancy.
Here are a couple I found from July.


Much more to come.

23 December 2009

Some of Sam

Here are a couple clips of Sammy's escapades in our cloudburst a couple weeks ago. (Mama's boy.) I knew it was time to come inside when he could no longer pick himself up from his final puddle plunge (i.e. 1:25).


shivering and soaking, but satisfied



recent stacking fetish


(he's getting those big legos for Christmas... sssshhh!)


first attempts

maybe we'll try again next year?


are boys hardwired to know just where the screwdriver goes?



lastly, here's a little dance.
our favorite is the little head wag when he starts a new song:


MERRY CHRISTMAS!

03 November 2009

29 October 2009

Jack O'Lanterns in California








Can you guess whose is whose?





I grew up carving pumpkins in Utah, not knowing that the cold weather keeps them thriving through the weeks. Here is what happened within six days of carving in California. Apparently most Californians carve their Jack O'Lanterns on the eve of Halloween. I did feel bad that we had to throw these out because they really are much scarier, don't you think?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!