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Our journey into cloth diapering!

Your bum is a hot topic, Ames!
We decided early on in the pregnancy to cloth diaper you, and it has been so much fun. Needless to say, we’ve had quite a few questions (plus an “eww” or two) from well-meaning friends and family along the way.
Last night, I sat down to write my friend Jessi an email about our diapering system. She’s interested in making the switch from paper (disposables).
I figured I might as well post a version here, too, for all of those who are interested in how we handle your hind end!
MY CLOTH DIAPER TUTORIAL:

There are two main categories of cloth diapers, and each with two subcategories… dizzy yet?

DIAPERS THAT NEED A COVER:


Prefolds – This is the old-school famous cloth diaper that is wrapped, pinned and covered. It’s the best solution for parents who diaper mainly for economical reasons. These run anywhere from $1-$5 a piece. They usually come in dozens, and they’re made of either Chinese or Indian cotton (bleached or unbleached). They must be washed several times before use to prep them, in order to increase the absorbency.

 
Fitteds – These diapers go on like disposables, and then they’re followed by a cover. They are either sized, meaning the baby will outgrow them, or one-sized, with snaps that enlarge the diaper as the baby grows. A one-sized diaper can last from newborn stage to potty-training, so it’ll be more expensive. These diapers range from $10-$30 a piece.

DIAPERS THAT DO NOT NEED A COVER:

Pockets – These look like covers, with slits in them – these are called pockets. An insert, made of terrycloth or hemp (or a number of other fibers) goes in the pocket. People sometimes use prefolds to stuff them, too, for nighttime or heavier wetters. When the baby soils the diaper, the insert should be removed and the whole thing goes in the wash. These also come either sized or one-sized. They range in price from $12-$25. Notice the outside is waterproof, so it can go cover-less:

All-In-Ones – This is the most simple (and usually expensive) cloth diapering system. Everything is sewn in, and it’s used just like a disposable. No inserts needed, but they can be added as “doublers.” When it’s dirty, the whole thing goes in the wash and a whole new one goes on. Once again, they come sized or one-sized. They range from $15-$30.

Chris & I have all sorts of diapers, because I tried to collect different types during my pregnancy. We’ve used all four types, but Chris has voiced a preference for certain ones… so I’m working on building a stash of two main brands. Not gonna argue with a papa who changes dipes!
Our favorites:
We use a lot of BumGenius All-In-Ones during the day.
Right now, we used the sized ones, which means we’ll have to buy
new ones in several months.
I have a few one-sized ones, though, and I’d love to get more.
We buy them used from DiaperSwappers and
new from CottonBabies when they’re on sale.
We use Goodmama fitted diapers with covers at night.
They are super cute, popular, bulky, absorbent, & expensive.
We buy them used from DiaperSwappers and from an online community.
Goodmamas are one-sized, so we’ll never have to go up.

Buying used might seem icky, but babies are only in diapers for so many months. It saves to get involved with other cloth-diapering mamas who are
interested in buying, selling, & trading.
Our personal system is pretty simple. We put dirty diapers in a pail liner that hangs on the door (it can also go in a trashcan). The smell is virtually nonexistent, but we keep a washcloth with lavender or peppermint oil in there just in case. We wash diapers every 2 or 3 days. We are not on solids yet…but those will just go into the toilet via the super-cool/dad-friendly diaper sprayer.
Anyway, back to the wash routine.
We put them in the washer with a bit of Seventh Generation powder detergent.
We also use Charlie’s Soap, which is made here in NC!
We set it on the hottest/longest wash cycle, usually with an extra rinse.
Then we put them in the dryer for the longest option, on the lowest heat.
Sometimes I turn the diaper’s pockets inside out or hang dry them, but that’s as fancy as it gets.

When we go out in public, I have a wetbag, made of fabric on the outside and waterproof PUL on the inside. I just put the soiled diaper in there, as well as the wipe (baby washcloth). When we’re out, we use a diaper spray on his bottom. At home, we use a small squirt bottle with water, apple cider vinegar, and tea tree/lavender oil. Knock on wood – not a diaper rash since we dealt with thrush @ 6 weeks!

That’s it! It may seem like a lot. It did take a bit of time to develop a rhythm,
but it was never too overwhelming. We’re 5 months in, and it feels so natural!
I cannot believe how much fun it’s made diapering.
It feels weird to say that, but it’s true!
It’s a team effort between Chris & I, and we both enjoy it.
It’s also saved us a lot of money.
I’m not sure how much we’ve spent, but I know it’s under $300.
Not bad, considering we could easily go through a box of disposables in a matter of days!
PHEW!!
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motherhood

3 Months…

Baby boy, time is flying. And right now, I don’t mind…

You see, I’m pretty sure I’ve been struggling with what people call postpartum depression. It’s when you’re so overwhelmed with love and wonder for your new baby, you forget to keep track of your own heart (and mind) some days.

Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I feel like my heart might explode with love.
Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I feel nothing.
It doesn’t mean I don’t love or want you, dear one.
I’m just learning what it means to share my soul with yet another human being, this one being a tiny, helpless creature who depends solely on me.
I’m a thinker. Heck, I’ll admit it. I’m a planner, a worrier, an analyzer. I thought I’d gone over every scenario and prepared myself well for motherhood.
And I did, to an extent. You make parenthood so easy. So far, you haven’t shocked me with any crying fits or nursing strikes. You sleep for 4-5 hours at a time and smile at me every chance you get. You can hold your head up and love taking in the world with your big blue-gray eyes.

Sure, it can be sort of dreary to think about the lack of “me” time, now that you’re here.
There’s no sleeping in on my days off, no spending the day thrift-shopping by myself.
Even running mundane errands requires planning.
And of course, alone time with your papa can be sort of tricky.
But I was ready for all of that. We’ve all gotten into a rhythm, and it feels so natural.
I didn’t prepare myself for one bittersweet truth…
Motherhood clashes with my heart for the nations.
I passed up an opportunity to spend a few days in Haiti next week. The poorest country in the world just suffered a terrible earthquake, and they are in need of nurses. This is why I went to nursing school, boy. You won’t believe how incredibly painful it was for me to say no, that I had a breastfed newborn at home who needed me. I can’t help it, Ames. It’s who I am.
I am a daughter of the God who gives and takes away. He gave me a heart for ministry long ago…and He gave me a marriage, 2 stepsons, a career, and a new baby all in the last year. He gave me everything I’ve ever wanted in life, and I am beyond thankful.
But in the midst of all of these blessings, I’ve experienced a “taking away” of sorts. Freedom of schedule and availability is now severely limited, whether it be for an uplifting coffee date with girlfriends or a trip to Haiti to start IV’s and sew people up. My world revolves around you, and I love it and hate it at the same time. It’s so freeing to be honest.
Baby, you’re teaching me to live in the moment. This is something I’ve struggled with my whole life. In a way, I feel like a sullen teenager. I resent you for this valuable life lesson, even though I know I need it. Does that make sense?
You will not be a baby forever. In mere months, you will start a beautiful & painful journey into independence and away from me, starting with baby food & baby steps.
I know time will fly.
I cherish the late-night nursing sessions when it’s just you and I against the dark. I love coming home from work and watching your face light up when you recognize me.
I think part of the pain comes from already knowing what I need to hear. I’m beating myself up with logic, making myself feel guilty with reason.
There are thousands of nurses in Haiti right now and thousands more at home, waiting to be deployed. Haiti can spare me, and it will always be in need.
My girlfriends understand my new life and schedule… The coffee dates are a little less frequent, but I’m squeezing in the quality time when I can.
Your dad and I are intentional about taking hold of quiet moments with each other throughout the day. Our love life is definitely different, but no less satisfying.
I just want to be honest with you, boo.
It’s a lot harder than I thought.
I love you, son.
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motherhood

One month ago today…

One month ago today, we were in labor land. It seems like a year ago and yesterday all at once. I look back on October 23/24 proudly and fondly. Ames… you and I, “we did good.”

And so did everyone else on our team, for that matter.
Our midwives, our family, our friends.
It was a day I’ll never forget, and I revisit it often with a joy that makes my heart and
eyes well up and over.
You will be one month old in a few hours, and
I can honestly say I’m thankful time has flown.
You have definitely blessed us with plenty of sleep and quiet moments,
but I have decided the immediate newborn stage is not for me.
I struggled a lot in the beginning, feeling like a machine that produced milk and diaper changes, with no human interaction. Oh, how desperately I wanted you to look into my eyes. I wanted to feel you know me & recognize me, but you didn’t. You slept in anyone’s and everyone’s arms, and you were content to stare off into space (especially if there were windows or lamps nearby). I knew there would be a moment when it would click for us, but I was impatient. After all, I’m returning to work soon, and I wanted each precious second I had with you to be filled with bonding and connection.
Two days ago, you looked into my eyes for the very first time. You glanced up at me, zeroed in, and stared… for a good three seconds or so, time stood still. It made it all worth it, Ames. Every single one of those moments, when you’ve peed on me during diaper changes, or let me have a piece of your mind because I couldn’t nurse you fast enough.
Those huge gray/blue (soon to change) eyes looked into mine and stole my heart.
I can honestly say that I’ve fallen in love with you. I can’t get enough of you, Ames.
And I’m actually thankful it took awhile to get to this point.
I will never take this feeling for granted.
I’ve had more patience for you and the older boys in the last 48 hours
than I’ve had in your first four weeks combined.
As far as the nitty gritty details go, I wanted to document a few things:
– Cloth diapering is going really well. We’ve used some disposables at night, which is a relief when the three of us can barely keep our eyes open. But all in all, using cloth doesn’t add much time or effort to our regular routine. I wash your diapers every other day, and you haven’t met a diaper yet that doesn’t suit you. I’m very pleased.
– You’re eating every 2.5-3 hours during the day, and every 3-4 hours at night. This is a huge blessing, and I don’t want to take it for granted. Sleep is very important to me, sometimes too important. I obsess over getting enough and ensuring my family gets enough. I think God has really blessed us with you, mister… you fit right into your mama’s anal-retentive sleep schedule. And getting adjusted @ the chiropractor 3 times a week isn’t hurting either. I’m convinced it’s what’s helping you sleep and stay so pleasant!
– Daddy holds you a lot, and I love watching you two interact. He says you turn your head when you hear my voice, too, even if it’s from another room! I love that. You are so alert, so ready to embrace this world head-on. I even have a hard time getting you to snuggle on my chest because you’re so determined to keep your head up and check things out all of the time.
– You seem to like to keep your hands by your face, especially while you sleep (you are your Daddy’s child); I can’t get enough of your different facial expressions. Sometimes, you rest your hands on your chest like an old man. Other times, you clasp your tiny fingers together under your chin and stare up at me while I’m wearing you in a sling or a wrap, and it looks like you’re plotting something super evil.
All in all, I am so pleased with this experience.
I know it sounds like a business review, but I tend to get pretty analytical with stuff like this.
I am so impressed with you, Ames.
You get 2 thumbs up.
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motherhood

AMES EMMANUEL’S BIRTH STORY…

As I sit here (very gingerly) on the couch, attempting to write my birth story while watching my newborn son nap fitfully in his swing, I am overwhelmed. He is so beautiful, yet complicated; so soft, yet needy, so oblivious, yet alert. Where to begin? I plan to be very honest and vulnerable, as I attempt to account for these last few days…

OCTOBER 23/24, 2009

7:00am

On the morning of the first day of my 39th week, I awoke feeling sick to my stomach. This was nothing new, but I was surprised at how much I was reminded of the first trimester’s sensations. Holding my breath, I reached into the fridge and poured myself a watered-down cup of juice. I had already told the boys they may not come downstairs until 7:30am, since they didn’t have school, so I snuggled up on the couch to enjoy the sunrise in peace and quiet. I’d been having contractions for 3 weeks at this point, but my prenatal massage the day before had put me in a renewed and relaxed state. I knew baby boy would come when he was good and ready.



As I headed up the stairs to get the boys ready for the day, something felt different. My contractions had centered themselves and headed south, as opposed to the all-over tightening I’d experienced in the weeks prior. They had also become very regular, both in the timing and in the way they arrived and receded.

7:45am

I stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. I knew that things had changed, though, and I told Chris as much. I didn’t want to get too excited, since we’d been holding our breaths for the last several days, but I felt pretty sure that things were on the move. I noticed some bloody show after I went to the bathroom (sorry, have to be matter-of-fact!). I got the boys dressed and headed downstairs. I wanted to be away from everyone, but I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t even gotten dressed yet.



As soon as I got to the kitchen, I began to throw up in the sink. I hollered for Lucas in a pitiful voice, “Please get your Dad!” He was so cute. He banged on our bathroom door and called out to Chris, who was showering, “Umm Dad?! You need to go downstairs. Rachael’s in labor, and she’s puking in the sink.” I had taken all of the towels, so my poor husband had to dry off with a hand towel. He threw on some clothes and found me doubled over the sink. He told me he wasn’t going into work, and that he’d gotten the kids taken care of. We’d already had a prenatal appointment scheduled with our midwife, Damaris; he asked me if I wanted her to come to the house. We had volunteered to do it at the birth center, since it has just opened and the midwives are getting into a routine over there. I wanted to go to her, though, just in case this wasn’t the real thing. I didn’t want to rally the troops just yet.

9:00am

I rode the short few miles to the birth center in the back seat, quietly breathing through the contractions. I had invited my best friend Nicole to come, since she had never seen the center before. I gave her a quick tour, pausing every now and then to close my eyes and ask myself, “Is this it? Is this one of the sensations that’s going to bring my son to me?”

Damaris was amazing, offering to take my vitals and do most of the visit with me standing up. Chris cracked jokes and made the girls laugh as I paced around the small prenatal room until it was time to empty my bladder. She had me step backwards on the scale in the bathroom, as I’d done throughout my whole pregnancy. But that day, I decided I wanted to know how much I weighed. We all shared a good laugh at the fact that everyone else had watched my weight progression, while I was content to just know the magic number at the end. When I returned, I asked Damaris to check me. This was something I’d told myself I would not do. But after 3 weeks of prodromal labor, I wanted to know if anything had progressed down there. Sure enough, I was 2cm dilated. This made me smile. I knew we were on our way to meeting Ames, no matter how long it might take.

We got back in the car, and Chris stopped off to get me a smoothie. The thing must have been a gallon. He was so cute, saying, “You can sip on it all day. You need your sustenance!” I had to laugh. I asked him to take me to the chiropractor. The contractions had started to pick up. I noticed myself moaning through them, which made me feel kind of sheepish. I asked Chris to play his record on the stereo, and before I knew it, we were at Dr. Ashforth’s. I hobbled in there, barefoot and breathing heavily, but I didn’t care. Dr. Ashforth took one look at me and got me up on the table. He let me take some contractions in his office while he adjusted Chris. I knew things were getting heavier because I no longer made eye contact with anyone. I kept my head down and my breathing controlled.

10:30am-2:00pm

We began timing contractions. They were 3 minutes apart, and each one lasted around a minute. I walked laps downstairs while Chris vacuumed. Nicole brought some popsicles, pineapple, and almonds by the house. She kept me smiling in between the rushes. Eventually, she had to leave to get her daughter up from a nap, and I asked Chris to call my mom. She had been waiting for her cue, but she didn’t want to come until I’d asked. I was still walking the house like a caged animal at this point, and I found that I liked taking contractions on the toilet. I felt like I could close the door and turn off the lights and just let it out. I also called my friend Patti, who came and helped set up my birth supplies. She’s a nurse, too, and I wanted someone there for a few minutes who would be very matter-of-fact with me. She picked up where Nicole had left off, and once my contractions got to 2 minutes apart, she encouraged me to call Damaris. We moved upstairs at this point.


2:00pm-4:00pm

Damaris arrived, and she asked me what I wanted from her. I loved that. She never once took over. It was my son’s birth, and my labor, and she was simply a guardian of the whole process. I asked her to check me (again, surprised myself). I remember having a hard time getting on the bed, as I’d been pacing the bedroom and handling contractions pretty well in the shower. She said I opened up from 4cm to 5cm while she checked me! It was so encouraging, to hear someone else validate my progress. God was doing something huge, and I wasn’t the only other person experiencing it. 
She said my bag of water was tight, and that she could feel his head through it. She didn’t want to mess around too much, for risk of breaking my water. She encouraged me to keep doing what I’d been doing. She left at that point, and told me to call her when “I felt things turn a corner.” I remember asking her what that meant. She said, “You’ll know.” Our sweet friend and dogsitter Kati showed up at that point. She took Samson and Delilah on a nice walk. I never got to see her face, but I remember hearing her voice downstairs and feeling so blessed to have such support.


4:00pm-7:00pm
I wanted to know how I’d progressed at this point, but I don’t remember why. I’d taken another long shower, and I’d started taking contractions on a small yoga ball. I could sit on that and lay my head on the bed, and I felt in control at that point. I kept my body relaxed, and I made sure to not clench my jaw or my fists. Chris kept me hydrated, and my mom just watched me with a small smile. It felt like everyone knew exactly when to touch me, when to feed me an almond, when to talk, when to stay quiet. I loved it. Damaris arrived shortly thereafter, and I was at 6cm. My water was still intact, though, and I had a ways to go. I walked the stairs a few times, and I seemed to like keeping one leg up – on a stair, on the edge of the bed, even holding it up with one hand. Damaris then suggested the bath, which I gladly accepted. Patti had left at this point, and it was just Chris and my mom and Damaris.



There was a lot of talk of me needing to eat, which I had no desire to do. Someone brought me some yogurt and crackers, and I tried my best to get them down. I started to feel nauseous though, and I hopped out of the bath just in time to lose all of my “sustenance” in the trashcan. As I sat on the toilet, barfing my guts out and feeling miserable, I begged Damaris, “Please tell me this could mean transition.” She said, “It could be. I’m surprised that didn’t break your water. I know you feel gross, but you’re doing great.” She was so soft, so encouraging, and I love that she never talked too much. 
Christine (the other midwife who had arrived at some point) was great, too. I felt a special connection with her because she is a registered nurse. She would sit in the corner and just watch me with a sweet smile, nodding at me whenever I looked at her. Chris was ridiculously supportive, too. I will never forget the looks he gave me. I cannot remember one time that he didn’t smile. He rubbed peppermint essential oil on my temples ever so often, and that refreshing scent gave me energy. At one point (he later told me), he got some in his eyes. I can only imagine the agony of him trying to be tough and not complain in front of his laboring wife while his eyes swam in peppermint tears. I also later learned that he kept everyone else laughing…I chanted certain sounds over and over, and he sat beside me fist-pumping and making faces to the rhythm of my noises. I would expect nothing less, and I have no doubt that his moments of light-heartedness are what got him through.

7:00pm-??

Things start to get fuzzy here. I remember being in the bath, and hearing the news that my girlfriends were downstairs. I asked them to come up, and I labored in the tub for a few minutes. One contraction felt particularly strong, and there was a “POP” and my water bag broke. I shrieked, “My bag broke! My water broke!” and I immediately looked down to survey the water (ever the cautious nurse). It was clear, and I was recharged. I got out of the tub and labored on the ball for awhile. My friends lay hands on me and prayed, and I will never forget the love that poured out during those moments. The contractions seemed so far away, and their sweet voices zeroed in on my vulnerability.



I tried to walk the stairs again, but I got stuck at the top in the hallway. Christine, the other midwife, and my husband were already halfway down, and they paused to look at me through the banister. I loved being eye-level with my husband, and I dropped into some bizarre cheerleader position. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself, and everyone else shared in the humor. I enjoyed the feeling of pressure on the other side as I felt baby’s head descend. I didn’t like standing or lying on my side.
I was between 8-9cm when I started feeling the urge to push. It was back to the core team – my mom, husband, and the midwives. This was my darkest hour(s), because I knew I couldn’t push yet. My cervix was swelling, and I needed to stay relaxed in order to get him down and out. Damaris and I developed a rhythm, where I took a deep breath in and blew three short ones out each time the contraction peaked. I also made motorboat noises with my lips, to try and stay relaxed. I demanded eye contact from everyone, which made them laugh later on. There I was, far away in labor land, and all of a sudden I’d snap to attention and stare into someone’s eyes until the contraction eased. I spent time in the bath and on the ball, and I took a few contractions lying on either side, as well as standing up, holding onto Chris.

I have no idea what time it was (I know it was after midnight) when I was completely dilated and ready to push…except for the lip of cervix Damaris felt. We tried pushing on the bed and in the tub while she held the lip back, to give the baby’s head room to slip through. I remember feeling like it should hurt to have her hand there, but it didn’t. I guess the oxytocin was doing its thing! His heart rate started drop during pushes while I was in the bathtub, so they put some oxygen on me and had me flip to my left side. This is the side on which one’s aorta undergoes the least amount of pressure, so the perfusion to the baby is at its optimal state. It’s not rocket science. It’s amazing how fast his little heart tones picked back up, to that “galloping horse” sound I’d grown to know and love throughout my pregnancy. Our bodies are such well-designed machines. It’s so simple, how easy it is to get desired results by following the laws of nature… yet simple fixes are usually the last thing we think of when something scares us, like illness (or childbirth). Anyway, back to his heart tones. We decided to get out of the tub, so that I could get into better positions to push and keep his heart rate up. I tried a few on the bed, and then Damaris suggested the birth stool.

Oh, the birth stool…the seemingly old-fashioned and “backwoods” piece of furniture about which I’d read so much. The thing is about the size of a stepstool, with a half circle cut out of it. I sat on the back of it, with all of the important parts in the cut-out space and my hands gripping the sides. We set this up against the end of our bed, so that I had something soft against which to rest my back and head between rushes. My mom sat on the bed behind me, being amazing and supportive as she’d been the whole labor. Chris knelt in front, with Christine and Damaris, and the three of them talked me through pushing for somewhere around an hour (I think? It felt like 30 minutes or less!). Somewhere around this point, she checked again, and his head had slipped through the lip. His heart tones sounded amazing, so I didn’t need the oxygen anymore. I was cleared to push like a madwoman, and boy was I ready!

At this point, I was pretty much numb down there, save for a few moments of burning and pressure. There go those crazy hormones again – God is so stinkin’ smart. I enjoyed the feeling of pushing, the emotional rush it gave me to see my husband’s look of pure admiration and adoration. I knew at that moment that he was proud of me. It made it all worth it, to know that we were on the same team, and he had been on this ride all day, too, and we were finally getting some results. I remember telling Christine and Damaris that I knew first-time moms sometimes had to push for hours, and that I’d be a trooper for them. Christine laughed, and Damaris said, “It won’t be hours. You’re doing great.” On average, I pushed about three times per contraction, and they made observations about which pushes brought more progress and encouraged me to recreate those. It gave me an assignment, a project, and I loved working on it.



When his head came down and stayed down, they got me a mirror. I’ll never forget the way that looked. At first, I didn’t want to see it. I think I was afraid to lose focus. But when I glanced down and saw his tiny head, something clicked. Chris noticed it, too. It’s one of his favorite parts to tell. He says my face changed, and I became a different woman from the one he married…and he loved it. I asked Damaris to give me support down there as he crowned, and she worked her magic with hot washcloths and olive oil. It felt amazing, and I felt freed up to focus on my task at hand – meeting my baby boy. Sometimes I hollered, right at the end of a push, but during most of this phase I kept my chin to my chest and worked at it silently.

Unlike what I’d expected, there was no delivering the head, followed by the body, with breaks in between. My son was ready to meet us. My mom left suddenly and reappeared with my dad and grandfather. Apparently, one of the midwives had given her the signal that she needed to get whomever was to be present. We named Ames after my grandfather, and he’d wanted to be there more than anything. In fact, my friends later told me he’d sat on the stairs outside our bedroom for hours on end, relaying what he heard and asking them to cheer whenever I came down from a contraction. He is amazing. We hadn’t discussed it, but my mom and I both knew I wanted my dad there. It feels like a good chunk of my life has been about trying to make people proud of me, and he is one of the people whose approval I value most. Over the last year, we’ve come to this comfortable place of mutual respect, and I knew he’d appreciate watching me give birth, especially in my home. My dad turned on the video camera (I don’t think it ended up working), and my grandfather gave me a smile and a fist pump.


I gave one or two more pushes, and out came Ames at 3:28am – “in a left-handed spiral,” says my football coach of a Dad. Chris didn’t even have time to get his hands in there, it all happened so fast. Ames had the cord wrapped around his neck twice and his chest once, so I held him head-down for a second, under his arms, while Damaris and Christine got him all unwrapped. Then I pulled him to my chest and fell in love.

after the birth:
He was wide-eyed and alert, and he pinked up right away. I told my mom, “Get everyone, tell everyone to come!” Within seconds, my room was filled with my family and best friends, people who had stayed up all night just for this moment. I had no idea they’d been down there all evening, playing board games and making bakery runs at 2am. It was exactly as we’d planned & hoped… a labor of love, surrounded by a support team in a safe, laidback, and comfortable environment.

After a few minutes, everyone left, and we moved to the bed. I delivered the placenta after about 20 minutes, and Chris cut the cord and got to hold Ames for the first time. The baby’s vitals looked great, except for the fact that he was breathing really fast and didn’t seem to want to slow down. He wasn’t interested in nursing either. He just wanted to snuggle and pant away. Normally, this wouldn’t be a huge issue. But with those tiny airways, and the fact that a baby’s temperature and respirations affect each other so dramatically, we really needed to slow him down. We knew if he’d just nurse, it would resolve itself. But he wasn’t having it. When I heard the midwives discussing “options,” like taking him in to a doctor’s office or even the hospital, I knew something needed to be done. I called our chiropractor, and he came over to the house and adjusted Ames. Within a few minutes, his respirations went from 120 (double the normal rate) to 65. I was so relieved.

At this point, I had been more than 24hours with no sleep and little food, and I was woozy. I had a hard time walking to the bathroom that first time, which is to be expected. At the hospital, the nurses require patients to have assistance during their first trip to the bathroom. Damaris sat me on the toilet and went to get a cold washcloth for my face. Apparently, I said, “Damaris, I’m out!” I leaned back against the toilet and started snoring. When she couldn’t rouse me, she took me to the floor. I only remember her over my face, asking me if I knew where I was. I got embarrassed and said, “Yes. I’m sleeping on my bathroom floor.” She said, “Yes, you passed out.” I said, “No, I was dreaming.” She smiled and asked, “What were you dreaming about?” I said, “I don’t know.” She had won that argument. It makes me laugh, how defensive I get in those situations. Whenever Chris catches me talking in my sleep, I try to pass it off like I’m totally awake and coherent. Anyway, Damaris and Christine got Chris, and they helped me back to bed. Once I had some juice and a granola bar (and some more of that dang gallon-sized smoothie that had followed me around all day), I felt much better. I couldn’t manage to keep my eyes open, though, so Ames and I dozed while everyone else cleaned up. He weighed in at 7lb8oz after a few dirty diapers, and he was 19inches long.

The midwives stayed later than they normally would, just to make sure Ames’ breathing had regulated itself. They left somewhere around 9am, after going over what to do if things changed. When Damaris returned the next day to assess both of us, she looked at baby Ames and said, “I’m so glad I trusted your mama’s instincts. She was right, and you are doing great.” That meant so much to me, to know that my opinion, as a first-time mother and as a nurse, was valued enough to make a clinical decision like that.
the first few days:

The first few days have been a blur…I had a pretty decent tear (or two), so I’m definitely sore and uncomfortable. I told one of my friends I think that’s why those first few nights are so hard. If I felt 100%, I wouldn’t mind staying up all night, learning about my son and how to meet his needs.


Also, we thought my milk came in the day after he was born, but he seemed to have a hard time getting satisfied. In fact, he went two full days/nights where the only thing that helped him was nursing or sucking on my finger. There were no periods of wakefulness or alertness, and no sleeping…just crying or dozing while suckling. I was so discouraged. But we’ve come out of the woods on that issue, thanks to some sweet friends. I’ve gotten some of their frozen milk, and I supplement a bit during Ames’ feedings. If he seems like he hasn’t gotten enough from his real mama, he gets another mama’s milk for a few minutes. My midwives are working with me to build my supply, and I have faith that this issue will improve soon.



Christine gave me a pep talk last night over the phone while we brainstormed. Something she said stuck out. “You have nothing worry about. We know your body works. You had no trouble getting pregnant or carrying the pregnancy to full-term, and you had no trouble during birth. We know your body works.” So true! Now it’s just a waiting game. 


reflections:
I can’t express how grateful I am for this. I don’t know where we’d be without the network of support in which we live. And deciding to have him at home was by far the best decision we’ve made regarding Ames’ birth. We had ample support and resources during all of the phases of pregnancy and birth; and although it’s over, I still have a list of people to help me through these potentially hard weeks. And they know me by name. They know my story, and they have ways to help and encourage me. We are so blessed. And although it’s probably a ways off, we can’t wait to do it again.

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motherhood

WELCOME, AMES EMMANUEL!

Born at home @ 3:28am on October 24, after 20hours of labor.

Little man is 7lb8oz (weighed after 3 poopies!) and 19in long.

We are so in love, and I will definitely be sharing the birth story soon!

2 Comments
motherhood

As of 0700, we are officially In labor!! Eeeekkk.

After 3 weeks of prodromal labor, things are finally picking up!

Prayers & encouragement are welcome!

3 Comments
motherhood

38 WEEKS…October 2009

We’re getting so close, mister!
We’re full-term (as of last week)… which means you can come any day now!

I finished orientation @ CMC-Randolph, and I was offered a full-time position on Team 1 (3-12 year olds) on my unit for when I return from maternity leave – what a blessing! It’ll be on days (7am-3pm), which is amazing. I am very excited about it, but I know it will be hard to leave your sweet self every day. We will cross that bridge when we come to it… I know my mom, Sunshine, is very excited about taking care of you a few days a week. And the Lord has blessed your dad & I with such flexible schedules, we will make it work.
Our best friends threw us a fun party a few weeks ago, and we had a blast celebrating you.
As usual, the ladies outdid themselves with decorations and sweets… and the boys made sure the place was stocked with enough beer to keep themselves entertained.
We’ll have a good time going through pictures when you’re older. You won’t believe how sweetly you’ve been celebrated over the last 9+ months.
We went to a wedding last weekend, and I managed to stuff myself into a pair of heels.
Your dad looked so stinkin’ handsome.
Your nursery is all done! We’ve tried to keep it fun and cheerful, with lots of artwork from friends (you have some talented aunties & uncles)… Here’s a video I took the morning after we finished.
We have weekly visits with Damaris & her assistant, Christine, now. Christine is an RN, and she also recently became a licensed midwife. We’ve got quite the team attending our birth! We’ve had a visit @ the new birth center, which is quite lovely. Damaris and the other midwives have worked very hard to get it going, and it’s such a valuable resource to women in the area.
We’ve gathered and set up all of the birth supplies, and I’m freezing ice packs with comfrey leaf tea in them as we speak, just in case my more sensitive areas take a beating as you make your entrance – do try to be gentle, boy!
I’m having contractions regularly, and they’re rather uncomfortable. But everything has stayed pretty consistent, as far as timing and intensity go. I don’t think you’ve dropped yet, either…so I’m just trying to stay patient and let you do your thing. You could come tonight, or you could come this time next month. I’ve come to terms with that, but I am so excited to meet you!
Truth be told, I feel better when I’m up and about. It shouldn’t be too hard to stay busy over the next little bit. I will admit, though, working 50+ hours over the last few weeks has worn me out. I will cherish these last few days of rest.
Your grandparents’ birthday is tomorrow…that’s right, my mom & dad have the same one! Sunshine & I are getting pedicures to celebrate.
I’ve never been a nail-salon type of gal, but pregnancy will do crazy things to a woman!
This will be my last blog post before you arrive. I’ll try put up a little, “I’m in labor!” update when the time comes, just so all of our sweet friends & family can pray for us.
See you earthside, Ames Emmanuel…
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