I have discovered Facebook. Oh my, what a time waster it is, and I think I will be wasting a lot of time on it in the next 11 months. It's kinda neat, being that you can get in touch with people that you haven't seen or spoken to in ages. On the other hand, it's a little annoying because you can be found by people that you haven't seen or spoken to in ages. But so far, so good.
Things on the home front are going well. We went to see the midwife yesterday and Maxim is gaining well. So that was good news. You'd never believe it with the amount of spitting up he did today. I'm surprised that there was any pee in his diaper. His spitting up is getting worse and Tanya is going to try and get us in to see a pediatrician. Especially since his spit up it starting to arc, and we don't want it to get projectile. It will be nice to have our worries put to rest. And maybe if we are really lucky they will be able to take Max on as a patient. We are still looking for one if anyone knows of one taking on patients.
We started the diaper service today. It's the same price as disposables, and our conscience will be lightened as we will not be filling the landfills with diapers. I can't believe the amount of garbage we have produced, just from diapers, in the past five weeks. And Max looks so cute with a bubble butt!
Today he has spent most of it sleeping, so I am afraid for tonight, especially since it's Marty's first night on. But we'll see how it goes. On another note, we bought a sling. I love it! And best of all, so does Max. He will crank for a few minutes when he gets in, but once I start moving around, he's out and snuggled and I can get some stuff done like brush my teeth and eat lunch. And it's very fashionable (see pic below). We bought it because he really wasn't getting into the snuggly, and I needed to be able to get some things done. Unfortunately Max isn't terrible fond of being put down during the day. The minute you try to put him down for a snooze he freaks. Yes I know, there are tons of people out there saying we will pay for this bad habit in the future, but right now we are doing what works for us. Once Marty is in school and home every night, we will start working on getting him to sleep in his crib.
He is the cutest, isn't he, even with a face covered in baby acne!
Skunk? you say. Yes, skunk. Chili got skunked last night. It was 10pm, I was all ready to get into bed. Max was up in his crib. Marty was just about to head out the door to go to work and we let Chili out for his last business of the day. All of a sudden, then is a terrible stench permiating through the house. It smells of putrid burning rubber. We look outside and Chili is rubbing his face in the dirt (good thing our backyard is mostly dirt). We are trying to figure out what the smell is, Marty thought it was a stink bomb. On the back step there is little gloppy wet marks, and Chili stinks to the high heavens.
So, we figure skunk. Ack!! We don't have tomato juice. A couple of tomatoes in the fridge, but I didn't think that would work. I am still not allowed to be doing anything strenuous, so Marty has to call work to let them know he will be late because our dog got skunked and we have to give him a bath pronto (I am sure they appreciate the originality of his excuses, the last one was "My wife is puking and I have to bring her to hospital"). So Marty gives poor Chili a bath, which he hates. And we hope and pray that we got to the stink before it had time to settle into his fur, because nothing else could happen until Marty got home this morning at 9.
Surprise, surprise, the teatree oil dog soap seemed to do the trick. He doesn't smell at all. His face a little, but for the most part, we have not been cursed with the skunky dog smell, that can supposedly last for up to a year! I am guessing that the skunk was pretty far back in the yard and got spooked when Chili came out and Chili only got a little spray on his nose. Now we will have to be very careful when we let Chili out at night and make sure that there aren't any visitors in the backyard. I don't know what I would have done if I was on my own. Probably call Jenn and Jim and beg for help!
On the baby front, still very little sleep, lots of cranky gassy episodes and an enormous amount of spit up. We saw Tanya yesterday and she is a little concerned. He is gaining weight, which is good, but not as much as she would like. He is still a little on the low end of the scale. And she got to be an eye witness to his spit up as I had to nurse him in the office. She wants us to come in next week so that she can weight him again. If he is still spitting up blanket soaking amounts and is still on the low end of the weight gain, she is going to refer us to a pediatrician. Now we wait for the weight...
Well it's nice to know that people are reading the blog. After my last entry, I got three phone calls, all to make sure that I was doing OK and that I hadn't gone off the deep end. Thanks everyone! Your support and encouragement is really invaluable. Just to let you know, I am doing better. The latching is going well and nursing seems to be working out.
The challenge at the moment... sleep. And not sleep for Marty and I (that we have already said good-bye to, somewhat voluntarily). Sleep for Max. He doesn't sleep at night. His night is from about 9pm-2am and then it's bright eyed and bushy tailed. Correction, all bright eyed and gassy. Max is up and uncomfortably squirming and cranking with gas pains from 2am to about 10am. We tried gripe water. Didn't do a thing. We tried Infacol, worked great for a few days, now it doesn't seem to be doing anything. Oval is the same as Infacol, so no need to try that. What's next? No seriously, what's next? People, if there was a time to call or email with advice, now if the time!! And any ideas on how to get Max to sleep a little more during the actual night time, send those ideas our way as well. Supposedly he is supposed to be getting 16-18 hours of sleep a day. Not happening. And the spitting up... he's like a pump. Instead of burping, he spits up. And it's not little dribbles, it's receiving blanket filling spews. I know it's supposed to only be a laundry problem as long as it's not projectile, but it's still very unnerving and worrisome. Advice on this issue would be welcome as well.
So there's the latest update. We see the midwife tomorrow, so hopefully we can get some advice from her on the sleeping and spitting. And our worries on his weight gain will be appeased once again. It's still something that gnaws at the back of our minds, especially since he spews so much. We'll let you know how he's doing, and maybe add a few new pictures. He'll be a month old tomorrow, you know!
Over and over again, all we hear is that "Breast if best!" And I have bought into it, hook line and sinker. And where has that gotten me? Exhausted, raw nipples and very little flow. And I am still trying to breast feed.
We saw the lactation consultant again yesterday. I was still having a terrible latching problem, screaming and swearing every time Maxim latched on. Lana was great and was a tremendous help and we left there feeling empowered. We found out that I am making more milk and that we might be able to rely more solidly on nursing with fewer suppliments. And the latching problem was solved. Ahhh, peace of mind...
Then last night happens. We I am home alone without Lana there to guide me with the latching, it didn't go as well. And now Maxim fusses terribly and spits up constantly after every feeding. So my night consisted of me holding Maxim, trying to console him from about 3am to when Marty got home from work at 9am. Can anyone say tired? That is actually a huge under statement. And I am still supposed to be pumping. That didn't happen.
So, am I continuing to breast feed? Of course I am, because breast is best! and I will be a complete failure if I don't do this. Or at least that is what society seems to say now. Even the WHO says that women should exclusively breast feed for at least the first 6 months, and ultimately the first 2 years. I wasn't hoping to go that far, but 6 months would have been nice. I was really aiming for a year. I guess I need to realise that he would be fussing regardless of whether he was nursing or just taking a bottle. So giving up on the breast feeding wouldn't change the fact that he is a really gassy baby and will have a crampy tummy regardless of what he eats. I think this is mantra that is going to get me through the next little while.
It's incredibly frustrating not knowing how much he gets from nursing. How do we know he has gotten enough? Do we need to give him more? Do we supplement? The questions are unending. Everyone said that this was going to be hard, but I never imagined how hard it really was. Why do people have more than one?
I have been tagged twice now by my friend Karen. It's a blogger thing, which I am very new to, but as I plan to be a consistent blogger over the next year of my mat leave, I think I better get blogger savvy. So I am going to finally respond to the tags. You are supposed to tag other people, but as Karen is the only friend of mine that blogs, the tagging is unfortunately going to end with me on this loop. The tags move a little away from the Maxim focus of the blog, but only momentarily, and it will give readers a little insight into the brain and life of Julie. I have asked Marty to respond to the tags as well, since he is technically supposed to be the main contributor to this blog, but we'll see what he decides to do.
So Tag No. 1 - If I could only listen to 7 songs for the rest of my life, what would they be... Here is my list as of today. Ask me in a few weeks, and I am sure it will be different.
1. No One is to Blame - Howard Jones: this is a song from my teenage years that I completely loved and sang all the time. Danielle and I would actually sing it while we hiked during Pathfinder camps. 2. Fly Me to the Moon - Tony Bennet: this is Marty and my song. No other explanation needed. 3. Beautiful Boy - John Lennon: this song was not on my original list, but now with the arrival of Maxim, it just seems right. 4. Somebody - Depeche Mode: again a song from my teenage years. It's my favourite DM song. 5. Young Hearts Run Free - Kim Mazelle: It's on the Romeo and Juliette soundtrack. There is no way that I can listen to this song and not dance. 6. Hallelujah - Lenard Cohen: for those who know me, you might be surprised that I have a Lenard Cohen song on my list, as I really don't like him. But this song is so incredibly beautiful that even his droning voice is listenable. But any version of this song will do. 7. Killing Me Softly - The Fugees: this is a song from my rubgy years, and has some incredible memories along with it. And another song that I just have to dance to.
Tag No. 2 - Things about me
4 jobs I've had 1. Sweat shop worker (taking the t-shirts out of the oven after they were silk screened. I was 15) 2. McDonald's cashier 3. Office Clerk 4. Meteorology consultant
4 movies I can watch over and over again 1. Romeo and Juliette 2. Garden State 3. Notting Hill 4. Star Wars
4 places I have lived 1. St. Jean (Qc) 2. Brossard (Qc) 3. India 4. Ottawa
4 TV shows I love to watch (oh, there are so many to choose from!) 1. Battlestar Galactica 2. Scrubs 3. Charmed (yes, a very guilty pleasure) 4. Grey's Anatomy
4 places I have been on vacation 1. Mexico 2. Florida 3. Cuba 4. Europe
4 of my favourite dishes 1. Mom's spaghetti sauce 2. 5 p pasta (ask for the recipe if you want, it's a staple in our house) 3. #304 at our favourite Vietnamese restaurant 4. tuna cups (again, recipe to those who want)
4 places I'd rather be right now 1. sleeping 2. South of France 3. at a cottage, on a lake (any cottage, any lake will do) 4. snuggled on the couch with Marty and Max
I am now supposed to tag four other bloggers, but since Karen is the only other blogger I know, the tag ends here.
16 days have gone by since Maxim entered our life and it seems both like he's been around for ever and that we have just begun and have no idea what we are doing.
After dealing with getting a flu (throwing up after major abdominal surgery is no picnic), and being forced to bed rest because of exhaustion, I am now tackling the next issue. These big milk bags don't work!
Yes, even though I have been blessed (or cursed, depends who you are) with rather sizable breasts, they don't seem to have much function. You'd think, ooooh, easy breast feeding. Should be enough to feed an entire play group. Well, size doesn't matter in this case.
We discovered that I wasn't making enough milk when Maxim dropped way too much weight and the midwives were concerned. We had to supplement, and I had to try pumping more. Even with pumping, not a whole lot was coming. Next step, lactation consultant. She was very supportive and helped with better latching (which is part of the problem) and suggested we rent a hospital grade mega pump (who can hear old Bessy moo?). So now the routine is I nurse for 10-15 minutes on each breast, feed him 2 ounces of supplement (formula or pumped milk) and then pump for 15 minutes. The whole process takes about an hour and I need to do it every two hours. Can you say sore nipples?
After all of this, I still don't seem to be producing a whole lot, though I have only been on the crazy schedule for 2 days. We had our appointment with Tanya today, and she suggested dark beer. Seems to work for a lot of people. See the smile on Julie's face? I love dark beer, and to be given the OK, no, encouraged, by my health care provider to have one a day to increase milk production, well no need to tell me twice. Good thing there were several LCBO's on the way home. And now tonight we are going to the doctor for the final step, drugs. There is a drug out there that is supposed to help. Last resort. If all fails, then I have to accept the fact that I can't produce milk. That is going to be the hardest part. So far every time I think about it I cry. But as I write this, there is only a little bit of welling up. Maybe I am starting to accept it. Stay tuned.
(NOTE #1: This is going to be a very long and detailed post. For those that have no interest in reading on – my friends, not Julie’s – no offence taken.) So it all happened last week. We were advised by our midwife and by our Obstetrician that waiting for Julie to go into labour was a risk (although small) not worth taking. We agreed and were scheduled to go in for a C-section on Monday at 1:30 pm. Julie began fasting the night before, and let me assure you, that a fasting Julie is a frustrated Julie. She did, however, manage to survive until we were admitted to the hospital at about 11:30 am. We were sent to our room (private with pull out couch for Daddy!) to rest and await the porter that would whisk Julie away for operation prep. We had our midwife, Tanya, and her associate, Theresa, there to assist in any way possible. Little did we know that they would be running around all afternoon attempting to find out why we hadn’t gone into surgery yet. Apparently, our O.B. was preoccupied with a couple of natural births for which the mothers decided that their deliveries were more important than ours. Once he was ready to go, there were complications in the operating rooms, and after an extended wait, we were informed that we were no longer going to deliver our baby on the Monday. At this point, I wanted the entire hospital staff – doctors, nurses, administrators, cleaners – fired. I was shocked and awed that they had built up our hopes and dreams and then let them come crashing down, if even for one day. Plus, Julie had gone about 20 hours without food. YIKES!
(NOTE #2: I’m finding it a challenge to complete this entry due to the unpredictable nature of the first few days of Max’s life, however, last night, the 29th, my attention was on Julie as I had to whisk her to Emergency at 10:30 pm – she’s OK, but stay tuned for that story in another entry…)
On Tuesday the 24th of April, it actually DID happen. Events as I recall them in my typical blurry fashion:
7:15 am – Arrive at the hospital after spending the night alone at the house. Brought flowers to Julie and changed into my scrubs…I look good…Noah Wylie E.R. good. (Is he even on the show anymore?)
7:35 am – Greet the midwives in the room as Julie is being hauled off for her prep. At this point, Josee had replaced Theresa. All of the midwives that we have dealt with have been extremely supportive. Two thumbs up for midwifery care (pronounced “mid-wiff-ery” for some odd reason – still has me perplexed, that language of mine).
7:50 am – In the recovery room with Julie. Everyone begins speaking French. Uh-oh…let the conspiracy begin. Something dreadful is happening and they don’t want me to know. I stand my ground, try to look stoic and fully aware of what they’re all talking about.
8:00 am – Julie is wheeled away in her wheelchair to be drugged up and taken into the O.R. The midwives leave to get ready. I am placed in a hidden boardroom outlining the plans for hospital expansion. Waiting forever for someone to come and get me – they said they would! Everyone passing the room now knows that despite my scrubs, I am not a doctor, but just some clueless Joe completely removed form the delivery of my child. I’m pretty sure it’s done on purpose.
8:20 am – Finally, a nurse comes and gets me and leads me to the O.R. I am greeted with a, “Oh…there’s the father…just in time…” WHAT??? I look around to see everyone in place and the doctors playing slinky with Julie’s intestines. I am placed firmly on a stool beside Julie’s head. I am reassured by her smile, and by the fact that she can feel something, but is in no pain.
8:26 am – Our O.B. exclaims that it’s a “beautiful baby girl”, which makes my heart jump for a minute until I realize that this is a surgeon’s attempt at humour. Haha. Immediately after, we hear the first bellowing cries of our child, and he sounded, to put it bluntly, pissed off.
8:28 am – After sharing a moment of elation with Julie and taken a mental snapshot of her wonderful expression, I am told that I should go take a look at the baby. I walk over to discover that my brand new boy has been nicked on the left bum cheek with a scalpel. Being assured that it was nothing, I chalked it up to more surgeon humour. Haha. In the next 10-15 minutes, I am allowed to bring Maxim over to Julie so that she can at least spend a few moments with him as they stitch her up. Despite Julie’s insistence that I am “dead inside”, I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. Sadly, they don’t make it all the way, and I am left to concede that based on the evidence, she may be right.
At this point, I lose track of time, yet the most powerful feeling came over me as I carried our son from the O.R. to the other side of the hospital to be inspected by Tanya. Everyone we passed on the way there felt the need to crouch on one knee, bow their heads, and pay their respects. Or they said “Congratulations”. Can’t remember exactly which one. While carrying him around, I witnessed the first time he opened his eyes, and he looked straight at me. Normally, I would feel sorry for Maxim in my usual self depricative way by saying that my mug isn’t the first thing anyone should experience, however, I’m pretty sure he just saw a fleshy blob with a darker top, so…no harm, no foul.
While we waited for the opportunity to go see Julie and attempt our first feeding, I was able to spend some quality time with Max. He didn’t seem to grasp the concept of throw and catch with the baseball I tossed to him, so instead I took off my shirt (easy, ladies) and placed him against my chest for 10 minutes. Luckily, I was able to shower that morning; otherwise the experience could have been remarkably different. We were able to visit with Julie in the Recovery room after about 45 minutes, which is much earlier than usual (thanks, nurses), and the midwives helped Max bond with Julie with an initial breastfeeding attempt. I stood there like an idiot, trying to prevent my testosterone from ruining the moment.
Our two days in the hospital were extremely challenging, with very little sleep and no clue what to do with Max. Thankfully, the nurses were always around to lend a hand. I am an expert at diaper changing already, seeing as Julie has been unable to move around that much, and if you don’t know what meconium is, try not to find out. Whoa! We did manage to come up with our first nickname for Max – Larva Boy…
When Julie feels up to it, I will let her complete, and, um…correct certain details about the events. Further to the videos here, I have created a slideshow of the events that can be viewed here:
Thanks again to everyone for their support. Please keep in touch with us, because we won’t have the energy to initiate any interaction with the outside world for a little while. Oh well, life goes on…
So my maternity leave started yesterday. It's day two and... yes, I'm already getting squirrelly. As most of you know, I'm not very good at the sitting down and relaxing and enjoying some down time. I need things to do to keep me happy and sane. So suggestions are welcome!
Yesterday Marty and I did my belly cast. For those who don't know what I am talking about, it's a cast of my belly and breasts. Some women do it for a keep sake, we are doing it for a piece of artwork. The cast turned out really great (Marty is surprisingly crafty!). I didn't realize how giant my boobs were though! And it did rip a layer of skin off where we didn't put enough Vaseline. After it dries, Tammy is going to paint it. We want to have flowers painted on it and it will hang in our dinning room. Sounds weird? But it's going to be gorgeous! Just you wait.
After that we had an appointment with the midwife. Other that the fact that my puffy ankles have turned into elephant feet (Marty thinks they look like balls of pizza dough with toes), I'm doing fine, and Junior is still pretty content at sitting bum down. His head is getting bigger by the minute! Considering both Marty and I have pin heads, how the heck did we end up with Stewie (Family Guy reference). Tanya estimates that Junior has hit the 8lbs mark. The rate he's going, we are going to end up mega baby! Maybe I should be glad that we aren't going natural! We meet with the OB on Monday to get the whole scheduling thing figured out for the c-section.
So today's plans? It's snowy and gross here at the moment. I'm hoping to maybe walk to the Post Office to send off some thank you cards for the shower. And that's about all I have planned. What the heck am I going to do with the other 14 hours??
So baby shower number 2 was last Sunday. Meredith and Olga kicked Marty and I out of the house at about 11 so that they could decorate and get things ready. Marty and I had a lovely lunch out, ordered our Chariot (stroller of champions for those uninitiated) and wondered around Westborrow for a couple of hours. When Marty dropped me off, the house was all nicely decorated, people had already started arriving and the food was plentiful.
There was about 13 or 14 people stuffed into our little living room, but nobody seemed too bothered. Josee and Danielle even made it in from Montreal. Marty took Chili with him to Kevin's so that saved about three body spaces saved! Mere had called Mom a few days prior to get some trivia questions and then when everyone had answered them, she called Mom, put her on the speaker phone and let her answer the questions live. Everyone got a good giggle out of it, and I didn't even know the answer to some of the questions! Mom was very happy to have been able to be involved. Aunty Irene was there too!
We basically all sat around chatted, ate some really good food and then the present opening began. Everyone was so incredibly generous, that I was opening for a good half hour! We got clothes, bedding, bath time stuff, toys, a monitor,... the list goes on. And of course Kevin got a Leaf bag for Junior, which will become his own little travel bag. Marty was pleased. It was a very lovely afternoon.
Then there was Baby Shower 3. A complete surprise. The girls from work (who were all at the Ottawa shower) planned a shower for me at work as well. Thursday afternoon, I wondered down the hall to get something off the colour printer, and there they were decorating. So I spoiled the surprise, but was surprised none the less. At 3:00 I was summoned down the hall and there were about 20-25 of my colleagues, a table full of food and delicious cake, and two tables covered in gifts! I was embarrassed.
It was such a nice surprised and everyone was having a good time. Nothing like a little party the afternoon before a long weekend! The amount of gifts was astonishing. Everyone was so incredibly generous. The girls had put the call in the invitation to "dress Julie's baby." The amount of clothes we got should keep Junior covered (and the cutest on the block!) for at least the first year! I still can't get over how much we got. We also got some great toys, a wonderful teddy bear and I got a great gift certificate to the York Street Spa (thank you Chantal!). So needless to say, I spent all of Friday writing thank you cards, and I still have about a dozen more to do.
Thank you to everyone once again. Both Marty and I are so appreciative of everyone's generosity.
Well we tried another version attempt yesterday. Nothing. The midwife didn't even try for that long because he has dropped so far down into my pelvis that she couldn't get his bum up. So what do we do now? Well there is one OBGYN that we have had two excellent references for that the midwife is going to try and see if we can get in to see him. If we can't see him, then we will be getting prepared for a c-section.
We see Tanya next week (she is actually coming for a home visit) and she will have all the information about getting the consult with an OBGYN, and how we set up the c-section. We will continue to try all of the crazy upside down, burning chinese herbs, talking to the belly, etc until I'm strapped down on the table. But I also have to start getting my brain wrapped around the fact that chances are I will be sliced and diced.
I can't say that I am not disappointed. We waited so long to get a midwife, planned for a great natural birth and now might end up with the most invasive and medical of births. I know, I know, keep you eyes on the prize Julie. As long as he is healthy, that's the main goal. But the 6 weeks postpartum recovery is what I am dreading the most. I have a feeling many favours will be called in!
This shot was taken during one of Julie's "20 Minute Workouts". Our ironing board is really taking a beating! I have a feeling that the baby has started his turn, and Julie wholeheartedly disagrees. Not sure what Chili thinks, other than hoping that his pathetic-looking face will get him whatever he wants (he's right). I'm apt to side with the mother on this, since I continue to have dreams about having a daughter, so what do I know? I will promise this, though...if boy decides to stay where he is and we have to resort to a "Caesar" (as they call it in Australia - reference courtesy of our prenatal instructor), then he is going to be instantly grounded. We'll start with a week and see how he behaves.
We tried the version yesterday and… it didn’t work. Junior is stubbornly still in the Frank Breech position. Frank Breech is basically when the baby is in a pike position (think diving, not fish), and is the hardest breech position to turn.
The procedure wasn’t as painful as I thought it was going to be. It wasn’t comfortable that’s for sure, and there were a few moments when the discomfort was rather intense, but it didn’t last for long. The midwife tried to turn him one way, and when that didn’t work, she tried the other. Basically what she tried to do was rotate the baby by palpating my belly with her hands; grabbing his head in one hand and bum in the other and slowly encouraging him to flip. Needless to say my muscles are a little tender today.
The midwives were very encouraging and Marty was great, sitting by my head, stroking my face and giving me lots of support. There is still some time for Junior to turn on his own, so we will continue to do all the little things that we have been doing. And if he doesn’t we can try the version again in two weeks. If he doesn’t flip by then, we will have to have a consult with the OB and schedule a c-section.
I was more upset than I thought I would be, as I spent moments in silent tears last night. I think lack of sleep, hormones and the fact that I have a bad cold have major factors in the emotional reaction. Marty is being very optimistic, I hope some of that optimism rubs off on me.
It’s great living in one city and still having family and friends in another. You get two baby showers! But seriously, all joking aside, Marty and I are extremely lucky to have such generous family and friends. We won’t be able to thank everyone enough.
Last Sunday was the Montreal shower, hosted by Tammy. It was great. She really out did herself on the decorations, silly games and food. The decorations were done with baby socks, board books, rubber duckies and some great stuffed animals; great idea to use decorations that are useful afterwards. And there were so many games and prizes, it was really fun. The best was the dirty diaper game and how my cousin Sherri reacted to it, and Mary-Francis tasting the brown one that no one could figure out! Brave girl!
Everyone was so generous with the gifts. We got some great clothing, receiving blankets, crocheted blankets, bath time stuff, mobile, portable high chair, toys… all in all, a very good haul. Everyone had a good time, everyone left with at least one prize from the games and a full stomach. The perfect afternoon.
A giant thank you to Tammy. It was a wonderful afternoon and I really appreciate everything that you did for me. Big sisters rock!!
On Saturday, Marty and I had the first of our two days of prenatal classes. It’s a nice small class of five couples in a cosy location and a great instructor. All of the couples are very nice and we are all due around the same time (April/May). Marty and I are the only “freaks” in the class, going with a midwife, hoping for natural birth, doing prenatal yoga… But after the videos, that might all change!! A c-section doesn’t sound all that bad…
I think the class is mostly for the men. The women seem to know what’s coming, but most of the men seemed a little clueless. Marty was definitely the most knowledgeable of the group, but it’s probably because I keep sending him articles to read and he loves reading the weekly updates we get from a couple of websites that I am registered with. But the videos, they are definitely for everyone, and they don’t hide or gloss over anything. After one of the videos (we got to see several) one of the husbands turned to his wife and said, “Wow, I have a whole new respect for you.” All the other husbands were quick to nod in agreement. After seeing those videos, I have a whole new respect for women who have birthed, naturally or with drugs!!
I don’t know if Marty is going to post, so I will speak for him here… he was pretty grossed out by the videos. The placenta was the worst for him. But he definitively appreciated the videos as they gave him a very good idea as to what to expect. He didn’t realise that I would be able to get up and move around, and that that was actually encouraged to help move things along. All of his references are from TV and movies, where the woman just lies on her back and grunts a lot.
We have our last class on Saturday where we are going to learn a little more on baby care and breast feeding; should be another good class. We’ll let you know if there any more videos.
You read it right folks: Junior is breech. For anyone that has not been initiated to pregnancy lingo, that means Junior's butt is down, not his head, which is what we want. So what can we do? Well, we are attempting some of the unconventional techniques: me laying on an ironing board which is on an incline, with my head down and the blood gushing to it; me on my knees and my chest and face flat on the floor, so my butt is stuck up in the air and the blood gushes to my head; a cold pack on the top of my belly to try and give Junior a cold headache and make him turn; Marty talking to the bottom of my belly to try and get Junior to move towards it; a flash light on the bottom of my belly, "Move towards the light!", etc... Actually, the first two are highly recommended by both my midwife and chiropractor.
And then there are the more conventional techniques (well some people will still think that these are unconventional!). My chiropractor actually specializes in prenatal chiropractics and a technique call the Webber Technique. She helps loosen my hips and uterine muscles and rocks my belly back and forth and encourages Junior to move. She has said that there is lots of room for him right now, so we are hopeful. The work she is doing will also help what we are going to attempt on Thursday, which is a version.
A version is when a midwife or OB tries to turn the baby manually (yes, from the outside!). Sucess rates with OBs run about 50%. We are getting it done by one of Tanya's fellow midwives, Diane. Diane has been doing it for many years, and midwives tend to have a much better success rate than OBs. Yes it's going to hurt. I know a couple of friends that tried this with their OBs and it didn't work. But we figure there is no harm in trying. Sometimes they succeed and the baby just flips back up. If it doesn't work, and Junior does not flip on his own, we will be scheduled for a c-section, usually a couple of weeks before the due date, as they don't want you to go into labour. And it will be Junior's first official act of defiance!
We'll let you know how it goes on Thursday. We also have a couple of other posts to tell everyone about our first prenatal class and my Montreal baby shower. For those of you that are waiting for the belly shot... sorry, it ain't going to happen. Marty took it a couple of weeks ago and I burst into tears. So, there is no chance that it will get online. I will try and put some baby shower pictures up and maybe you can get a glimpse of it on those.
I am currently on maternity leave with our baby Maxim and enjoying it more than I imagined. This blog is basically random thoughts on being a new mother and keeping the family up to date on how things are going.
aking on patients.
