Lucky, A Birth Story in Two Parts (II)

There is this medical myth that second births are faster and easier.  In the grand scheme of things, yes, this one was "faster" but I would never call it easier.  I shared his brother's birth story earlier and now this one for comparison.

I realised as I was writing this that while I use nicknames for my boys, I had not selected one to use for my husband.  To make things simple, I'm using his STEAM handle which fans of the series "Song of Ice and Fire" (or watchers of HBO's Game of Thrones) will recognize.  Just to add to our nerd-score, my handle happens to be the reply.

Nerdy names aside, here is my second birth story:

On the Wednesday before my second little boy was born I had my regular OB visit and discussed my on-going issues with labor being unproductive and the signs of muscle damage in my hips and lower body as well as the continued stress on my kidneys making me weaker.  I was still at just under 5cm according to my OB when he checked and swept membranes again, sending me home with instructions to keep up the walking and allowing me to try anything and everything if it could help break my water or get things moving.

That night, just as we were all settling in to bed for some rest, my water decided to break.  After having to mop up the mess all over the bed and struggling into clothes without waking the sleeping nearly three-year-old it was time to go. I left Valar home with the sleeping toddler and had my mother drive me in with a plan for her to trade with him and watch the little boy once they confirmed this was the real thing.

We arrived at a little before 11:30 at the hospital, meaning I knew we would be having a baby on Beltane (Mday Day for those not familiar with year wheel celebrations). After navigating the world's worst parking garage and improper signage, we the triage department for the maternity ward as my contractions increased from an annoying cramping to drastic squeezing of my innards, making me sure that we made the right call about it.  The nurses hooked me to the monitor and we all watched my contractions at a steady 5 minutes apart and about a full minute long with a healthy dose of "Why am I doing this again!?!"  

And so it went until the attending arrived.  She nicely watched my contractions, asked what made me think my water broke, looked thoroughly squeamish when I mentioned that I was being intimate when it happened - did she not know how the baby got in there to start with - and said she wanted to do an exam.  After finding fluid she said she still doubted my membranes had ruptured because many women mistake loss of bladder control for their water breaking.  I assured her it was not my bladder, but she seemed to have a low opinion of my ability to tell the difference.

Then she went a step farther in being thoroughly inadequate in her diagnosis by saying I was just over 3cm, then seeing that their own hospital OBs had been the ones to do my last exam she said she'd leave it to what he had stated.  At that point she informed me that while they could see I was indeed having contractions and feeling something distinct, she felt I was not really in labor yet or only the very early stages if this was labor.

Curbing the urge to hop off the bed and throttle her as she told me I was not even in labor while mid-contraction... I asked her to simply humor me and she agreed to let me wait a while and see if the contractions did indeed progress things.  My desire to kill reduced greatly once she had exited the room and the nurses were again commenting that from everything they could see in my monitors, this was indeed labor.  Unfortunately, when two hours later I had only progressed a tiny amount that same attending tried to send me home because she did not feel it was safe to follow the advice of the supervising doctor from my OB's office about giving me pain medication and a sleep aid to allow my body some rest before needing to work even harder while pushing.

About the point that I was struggling to pull on my pants while trying not to scream from contractions every three minutes, my husband wisely dragged in another nurse in the midst of their shift change and explained that if they were serious about discharging me he wanted both a wheel chair to bring me to the car and the name and number of the best person to call while filing malpractice against the hospital for their behavior.  At this point the nurse, now with the fear of legal action, went back out and returned with another nurse and MY doctor as he had just come in for the day shift.  He assured me that he was not allowing them to send me home, pointing out that had the girl called him as directed he would have told her to admit me and do the transfer from the triage section into a progressed delivery room so that he could have a more experienced doctor doing the care until he arrived.

I was then moved from the initial room to a delivery room with a birthing tub, yoga ball, and far more comfortable bed to rest between what was now a routine of contractions every three minutes. My new nurse assisted us over and assigned husband to run a warm bath in the birth tub as I had expressed in my birth plan how that was the preferred location for my labor.  After another check from a doctor with more than half a brain we were vindicated with the news there was just a pin-prick hole and the baby was pressed tight against it but that they would open it a tad more once I was ready to move to the tub so things could progress.

Having had such an easy first labor, it was a shock to my system when we could hear an audible crack as the bones in my hips and spine suffered with each contraction.  After getting in the tub with my first son, there was such relief and quick progression.  It was exactly what I needed to relax, to allow the steady ebb and flow of contractions in waves, and to reduce the pressure from all the weight and muscle movement.  But unfortunately there is one saying about pregnancy and birth that IS very true… “Every birth is different.” 

Valar puts up with much of my complaining.  He's held my hand through two long pregnancies, and I adore that he has learned to read me so well over our years and can see when a migraine is coming or I need a break because the long term damage to my knees is getting to me. But when even he finally had to excuse himself to go have a cigarette and even cry a little to shake off the concern from my whimpering and howling at the pain in my spine and legs... it is fair to say that something was very wrong.

I would have stayed longer in the water if the intensity and frequency of these contractions hadn't been causing me to slip down into the tub as I started to pass out. The bed was safest this time and I'm thankful for it. Once there, it was easier to focus on breathing and using my mind to overcome the pain.

I asked for something first just to reduce the edge and make it tolerable to ride out without being so aware of how badly my bones were grinding and the least amount of interference with the baby's heart rate. That worked for perhaps ten minutes before I was back to having to bite a pillow to stop the howling and my body fought itself.

Finally it was my nurse who called in the attending and told him point blank that even she was uncomfortable with the level of pain I was putting myself through after all our other complications this pregnancy. He stayed to watch through two contractions before telling me he felt it was time to do something to both push the progression (fourteen hours of active labor at that point and only a single centimeter) and reduce my suffering. Within a few minutes the team was setting up for an epidural even knowing my scoliosis might be problematic.

I am thankful the anesthesiologist was so skilled and steady, placing her line even as my body decided to challenge her with only a two minute window between contractions that lasted nearly as long. After that it was so much calmer. I was quiet and mentally unclouded enough for us to sit and discuss with the doctor about all our options which lead to a safe, healthy birth for our little hobbit baby.  By sixteen hours of labor, I was exhausted mentally and physically.  I wanted it to all just be over. Valar wanted it to be over. Even the doctors must have wanted it to be over as they willingly listened to my concerns and questions if a c-section would be needed based on heart rate for myself and the baby.

My doctors listened kindly, agreed to see how soon there would be a surgical room open as we all felt the baby had been stressed enough and my body was beginning to suffer too.  As they left the nurse reminded us to call for her right away if I felt any change as I had just reached 7cm and with my eldest, all that was required for me to move from there through transition and into birth was the "effort" of standing up after a trip to the toilet.  It took perhaps ten minutes for me to ask Valar to call the nurse back in as I felt a touch of pressure.

I wish I'd been holding my camera at the moment she lifted the blanket to look.  The jaw drop and look of shock told me more than her rush to the room phone to call in my attending.  It was time and Valar just smiled and took his place next to me, holding my hand and grinning.  Since the epidural was doing a good job of dulling the contractions, I was able to resist the urge to push until the were all prepared.  This time took far more pushing as he was much larger, but as they lifted our little boy onto my chest and he opened his big blue eyes for the first time, I was so happy just to make it through all the challenges of this pregnancy and birth.

Epidural is not a dirty word.  Pitocin, though I feel it is used too frequently, is not a dangerous chemical.  In my case, these were the tools that lead us to another calm birth rather than a dash to the operating room or another baby born on a bathroom floor. I may have had to request pain medication and required the use of Pitocin to alter the progress this time around, but I am very happy to know it was possible at all.

Our mutual recovery from this experience has been much slower physically.  I required stitches which I promptly managed to rip open upon getting home and returning to being Mommy to a toddler and never stopping for long.  I had bruising at the spot where my epidural was placed and where one of my IV lines had blown during the first attempt at pain management with Nubain while in labor.  Over all, things have been slow but no more problematic than any fatigued life with a new baby.

The little Hobbit Baby did require a short trip to the hospital's NICU on his second night as he had tried to inhale while still in the birth canal and swallowed fluid and blood.  His lungs required a round of oxygen therapy and antibiotics to fend off infection.  He is on a vitamin D supplement to combat jaundice and steadily gaining weight perfectly.

Lucky, A Birth Story In Two Parts

There is a long debate on the benefits and risks of medication for pain management while in labor and the complications or interventions it requires.  Having had two very different births and done a large amount of research on the topic for each one (because medical knowledge evolves as new studies and options come available) I wanted to share my experiences and my thoughts on each method I experienced.


Just under three years ago my first son was born.  The pregnancy was a big surprise as I was on birth control and not showing signs until a regular doctor's visit to discuss the stress at work and my history of ulcers which revealed a positive pregnancy test in my blood panel even though I had not tested positive via pee-stick.

Pressed for time to get the first ultrasounds and tests done, I contacted a local OB at the closest hospital with a birthing center and learned my first hard lesson..."not all doctors like having involved fathers with lots of questions".  She would ignore him or answer in a sarcastic tone, and seemed put-out when he insisted on staying in the room to hold my hand as the did the highly uncomfortable first ultrasound with that horrible wand.

Just before my 20 week ultrasound we moved from New York back up to Maine, meaning I was able to transfer to the care of the OBGYN who had treated me for some long standing issues and knew my history already.  Here we were able to ask any question, get an honest answer, and feel confident that our baby was getting the quality of care we felt was deserved.

By the time our little boy was born, I was forty-one weeks and three days and so uncomfortable just trying to walk that the thought of it often made me cry a little.  When my ultrasound that week showed our son was still not yet 7lbs and there was some possible issue of being restricted because I had failed to gain any weight for the last six weeks of my pregnancy we agreed that it was time to accept that all the natural labor inducing tricks and home-remedy methods were pointless.  My doctor and I discussed the least invasive of ways to induce and arranged for me to be induced the following evening.

At 6:10pm the following evening they placed the first round of cervical ripening product (Cervadil) and my husband and I settled into our respective beds in the room in L&D.  Poor kind hubby, he had to sleep on the stiffly overstuffed couch while I was relatively more comfortable in my post on the hospital bed.

Unfortunately, my pushing for minimally invasive efforts to start things meant I went from only 1cm to 1.5cm in the course of the night.  By 8:30 the next morning I was bargaining for one more try with a cervical ripeness aid rather than something more drastic.  Thankfully they listened and with this round my body finally began to respond, getting the hint and moving into early labor without much issue.  I bounced on the yoga ball, walked around with my husband, and eventually sunk into the glory of the birth tub when the harsher contractions kicked in just after my water broke.

By 8:00 that night I was clearly going to have a baby soon and we made sure to call family and update them before people went off to bed.  Shortly after 9pm all three attending doctors were busy in deliveries in other rooms and the intern on her first night in L&D offered to check and see how things were looking before I hopped back into the tub for a bit more relief.  She declared I was about 7cm and most likely would hit transition soon.

For some reason I had it in my head that going to the bathroom would be a good idea before it was time to push.  I still don't know if perhaps it was some cruel trick of my body to mess with my plans, but I am once again so thankful my husband was standing just outside the bathroom door and quick enough with his reflexes that a dive to keep me and the baby from hitting the floor was not a futile effort on his part.  I remember crouching on the tile floor, looking up at the nurse who asked what was wrong and in a not-so-calm-voice tell her "I'm holding my baby's head!"

It was blur after that... they must have rushed me to the bed because I remember vaguely the effort to lift myself onto the birth bed and holding my husband's hand. I remember the nurse holding my leg for me and telling me to breathe, then her panic as I started to faint with the first push.  But somehow he took only three pushes and one pause as they moved his shoulders, coming out quiet but flailing and going straight to his father's waiting arms.  

Small, skinny, and having huge feet and wide eyes... my little man was perfect from his first breath. He's an amazing child, full of smiles and so bouncy and bright. When he began crawling, then walking well ahead of the normal timeline his father and I thought we had beaten the odds so perfectly.  We had faced a long battle just getting through my health problems and his pregnancy had come as a shock after so many years being told I was going to face a battle just trying to conceive.  And yet, there he was, perfect and giggly and bright as the sun in the sky after a long labor and un-medicated birth.



My recovery was a walk in the park, literally. Once we were released from the hospital after an extra day of watching because he was under weight and not latching correctly to breastfeed, I was walking almost every day.  Eventually I had to admit breastfeeding was not working because of sharp pains and bleeding from the breast, but until then I did my best and even after I investigated our options to find the healthiest, most natural choice for our baby.

Tomorrow I will share the full story of my second child's medically assisted birth and how it compares to my natural labor and birth of our first baby.  I want to do this with a clear head so that you can all see the difference and how each has merit.

Thursday Interview Outfit

Interview number two is this afternoon and I'm about to hop in the shower while the baby and toddler are napping now that I nailed down my outfit.  Going slightly less formal today and drawing my color choice from my wedding ring to draw a little encouragement from my family and husband.  I do have to say, thank the powers that be for SPANX.  I still have some swelling in my abdominal area and feet, so compression waist slips and compression socks to help with the water retention thanks to my kidneys.  Anyway, now that Pinterest and Polyvore have eaten my soul, I am sure this blog will be more interesting in terms of fashion, though it can all be taken with a grain of salt since half the time I buy the lower price knock-off at Target or Macy's rather than the high price ones that take my entire food budget for the month in one pair of pants.

Thursday Interview Outfit by messy-mommy-jeannine featuring diamond accent rings

Working Mommy Thoughts

So, the tiny little hobbit will be two weeks old tomorrow, and I've already begun interviewing again to get back to work full time.  I love my kids, both of them, and I wish I could stay home and be the full time mommy for our littlest one that I have been for his older brother.  Unfortunately, the reality is that a family cannot live on just one income unless it is already six figures and while my husband works very hard, few dairy workers make that much.

My interview tomorrow felt a little less than stellar; I had the feeling she had already selected a person from the applicants that would be hired.  It did help to get me comfortable with needing to focus on something other than being a full time mommy, and I have had to think hard about how to change my wardrobe to cope with the remaining weight postpartum.  We had some complications at birth so I have to cope with damaged muscles that are preventing me from jumping into exercise again (this will be explained in his birth story to be posted soon).

Tuesday's Interview Outfit as worn by me!

What I do feel good about is that I have had a chance to use Pinterest to build ideas on what to wear for an interview or work.  I'm thinking perhaps if I keep this up and can get some followers I'll have a chance at making a steady blog update about fashion for moms.  My style is somewhat casual equestrian mostly because we live out in the country and I rode for so many years (up until pregnancy made it unwise to do so the first time).

Instant mommy wear... just add burp cloth and mystery toddler hand-print stains.

I've been up to starting a casual and a business outline and trying to pick things I can wear for both... but oh how hard that can be with a tiny one.  I need to go through my closet and dressers, take out everything and donate so much of what I still have in there.  Most of those things will not fit again any time very soon and since the plan is still to get a new place for our family, I'd like a reduced amount of clothing to haul.

Follow Jeannine's board Fashion Ideas Post Baby on Pinterest.

Follow Jeannine's board Work Wear Post-Baby on Pinterest.

Dear Samwise,

There are not enough words in any language to tell you how very much I love you.  Instead, I hope this letter and your name can do that for me if I am not able to do so myself.

Two days ago your grandmother made a cute and happy comment on facebook about your name.  She and I could never have imagined just how many ignorant little trolls would crawl out into the darkness of the internet to feed their need to call me names for that choice.  By the time you are old enough to read this I expect facebook will be pop-culture history and seem pointless and silly.  But tonight it has me thinking about your life, past and future.

By the time you can read this there is a good chance you know what kind of scary complications my bringing you into this world has involved.  No, this pregnancy has not been easy on us both but it has also been such a blessing.  Just weeks from your original due date and I am painfully aware there is still the chance that something could go wrong and I will not live to ever hold you in my arms or see your tiny fingers and toes.  So instead I want to tell you how much you mean to me.

Bringing you into this world is the most terrifying I have ever thought about doing.  Understand it will always, ALWAYS, be the very best thing I have ever done.  You are my light when all other lights have gone out. Knowing the reality of just how deadly the complications can be and how risky the treatment could be to you if I was selfish enough to take an easy escape.  Knowing you had less hopeful odds than a coin toss in surviving through to the "safety" of twenty-six weeks and yet, and then crying with joy when we could still find your heartbeat at thirty weeks.  You faced more darkness and danger than all of Mirkwood before you had lungs to even chance a first thin breath.  

My boy, my tiny hero, you are already ten times the man anyone in a story or behind a computer "shield" will ever be.  For you, little Samwise, the fires of Mount Doom will mean no fear and nothing but triumph; your long journey home is nearly done and the rest of the world who must cast off their burden of ignorance, anger, and hopelessness while you bask in a warm glow of love from the family that cannot wait to meet you. If the coin toss lands against us and I cannot say it in person, please let these nerdy words do it for me.

You really are the best of us, little Samwise. Your father and I made a choice of name for you out of so many "normal" or "unusual" options that we felt means something more. When the rest of the sworn fellowship gave up, betrayed their vow, or turned to gather glory and crowns in other battles, it was the "half-witted" gardener that dreamed of a happy life back in his shire hobbit-hole who instead carried his friend through to the end.

Your father and I had a choice, take advice of experts to end this pregnancy so you would not suffer, or carry on to an early delivery and maybe lose you along the way.  Little Sam, it was you who carried me when the days were longest and I was most afraid.  You are already more amazing a person than half the heroes in the world, and you have yet to see the sunrise for the first time.

If people are cruel to you about your name, do not get angry, feel sorry for them. I could have called you any of those “normal” names like John, Jeffery, or Ted… but that never seemed to be the cause of problems for Gacy, Dahmer, or Bundy when they became cruel men making horrible choices.  People were clueless about their nature and sometimes cruel to them as well, and it while it did make them bitter and bad it had nothing to do with their names.

Let the ignorance of others roll off your back like water on a duck.  Be the kind of man others want to call a friend.  Be a friend to others when they need one most and remind them there is so much good in the world.

Samwise, you are already a more amazing person than any one word could express or encompass.  You are my greatest achievement and I am so proud to be your mother.  You will do great things one day, I have no doubts about that fact.  I know there will be times you feel like giving up, or “hate what we did to you” by giving you this name.  But you are not just a boy with the name of a brave little hobbit who went off to war and came home to be the happiest and most celebrated of his village… you are my son and I love you.

You are also the last child I will ever have, the last baby born to this branch of the house “Martell”.  As another well known writer used that name for a royal family, he also gave them words that are perfect when this letter is not enough.

Unbowed.  Unbent.  Unbroken.

Remember who you are my little love.  I will not promise it will ever be easy, but you are more than up to the task.  As a person who grew up with a name most of her teachers could not pronounce and a nickname that everyone spelled wrong and related to a novel about a prom night gone bad, a name that is different just makes it easier to tell who those around you really are inside.  Even before you take your first gasp of air or cry for your first meal, you have done so much and been so strong.

I love you Samwise,

With all my heart.

Why I Immunize: Part I

I am a mother who loves science.  I also love my children and do everything in my power to do the best I can by them, including using logical practices to prevent disease and injury.  I also have my own, very real long term health concerns that lend to some difficulty in providing immunity and protection for both my soon-to-be-baby and the toddler.

There are a number of things that can be done to prevent disease without going so far as to place one's child in a bubble and never allow them contact with the outside world.  I follow trends in medicine closely and form my own rules based on what has the highest proven safety rate.  To explain all of the options and give them as much discussion on both sides (pros and cons) they will be broken into topical sections.

 

If this is your work let me know.  I want to credit the artists
because it contains huge amounts of awesome and you deserve credit!

In these entries I plan to cover the most basic forms of prevention and some of the situations where prevention has been ignored to detriment of community health.  From the basics of person hygiene and hand washing, to the controversy of vaccines and epidemics, I believe there should always be open discussion to reach a solution.  Anyone having a topic or supported information that might be interesting to add as an alternative is welcome to submit it for discussion provided that can show credible sources. 

I will refer often to both the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) and American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) because they provide a great dictionary for easy reference and are responsible for the information a typical pediatric center will provide when asked by parents. 

Please understand that while there is a point to having a dialog about health choices, the spreading of misinformation or admittedly false "facts" is not helpful.  Most notably the infamous claims that vaccines cause autism which were based on intentionally falsified documents do not lend to providing an education for parents.  Discussion about allergies to vaccine components and alternative choices to support good health are very useful and can assist a parent know how to prevent many kinds of undue risk to their child.  Health information from homeopathic sources is wonderful and welcome with verifiable proof such as clinical or otherwise approved trials (many countries require different types of tests).

At the end of my prepared sections I will share some of the home remedies and alternatives to over the counter items that I have found to be safe and successful in my own home.  I cannot promise they will work for everyone, nor that they might not be problematic in terms of allergic reactions which you should always watch for with any new substance.  Many of these are based on herbal medicine and for those interested in it I highly recommend doing your own study on the topic and making a reference library. 

Section One: Hygiene As Prevention

To ease into this, we'll start with the basics, hygiene as prevention. 

MDH poster for the prevention of disease through hygiene.

Washing hands and brushing teeth is so basic we start on these skills with toddlers.  My two year old is so fond of washing hands and baths that he will ask everyone in our house to lift him up so he can use the skin.  I'm not discouraging this behavior, hand washing helps remove exposure to bacteria and viruses we come in contact with through even the safest daily behavior.  

I'm a fan of homemade soaps and it really does help when picking out smells that things like mint and lemon are both naturally anti-bacterial and work without damaging the skin.  When making a hand soap purchase, go for a soap that does not contain perfumes as they often involve a chemical base that can promote headaches and be problematic on sensitive skin.  If you are a fan of organics or shop at farmer's markets but have not found something to be attached to so far, I suggest the awesome soaps from LUSH: Handmade Cosmetics and use their "Sexy Peel" as our hand soap if I am out of my farmer's market goodies.

While we all know hand washing is simple and essential, how often is it actually done and when should we do this?  Yes, I'm going into detail on something we all learned as children because the numbers of people who do not practice the basics is worrying.  To quote the CDC "About 2.2 million children under the age of 5 die each year from diarrheal diseases and pneumonia, the top two killers of young children around the world."

Cholera is a world wide issue and comes from the transfer of contaminated fecal matter the next victim via oral means, large countries have outbreaks due to poor conditions where the virus can hide after feces enters the water supply.  Pinkeye (Conjunctivitis) is an issue because the touching of eyes and face is so common that failure to wash hands between activities can spread infection from both the viral and bacterial agents which create this issue. Salmonella is a risk we are aware of in my home because we have had reptile pets and chickens which may increase the chance of exposure through both skin and eggs.

While these infections can be prevented with hand washing (and proper food prep techniques if you are consuming eggs), there are cases where washing might not be viable at the moment and so we move to the next solution.  Next on the list of typical choices is hand sanitizers.

Most parents know about these little bottles that appear as if by magic at playgrounds and birthday parties when kids show up with sticky hands.  I carry a bottle in my diaper bag and use it after cleaning my hands with a baby wipe post diaper change or dealing with other disgusting messes.  As a temporary fix for exposure to possible contamination, these are wonderful, but there is a downside too.

The problem comes when over use of these products does not always prevent contamination AND can lead to more resistant bacterial strains.  While they serve a purpose in the grand scheme of things, the dependence on such things may also factor in to the resistance of some bacteria to known treatments.  This becomes a more pressing problem when sanitizers are being used as the primary defense in medical settings like hospitals where people who have a lower resistance level will naturally congregate. 

To recap what I said here, the following is a simple list of times to wash hands and how to properly wash them:

When Should You Wash Your Hands:

• Before, during, and after preparing food
• Before eating prepared food
• Before and after caring for someone who is sick
• Before and after treating a cut or wound
• After using the toilet
• After changing diapers or cleaning up a child who has used the toilet
• After blowing your nose, coughing, or sneezing
• After touching an animal, animal feed, or animal waste
• After handling pet food or pet treats
• After touching garbage
  

 How Should You Wash Your Hands:

• Wet your hands with clean, running water (warm or cold), turn off the tap, and apply soap.
• Lather your hands by rubbing them together with the soap. Be sure to lather the backs of your hands, between your fingers, and under your nails.
• Scrub your hands for at least 20 seconds. Need a timer? Hum the "Happy Birthday" song from beginning to end twice.
• Rinse your hands well under clean, running water.
• Dry your hands using a clean towel or air dry them with a blower.

Sleep Like A Baby

The next person who uses this phrase is going to have the joy of experiencing my semi-psychotic cackling first hand.  Honestly, anyone using that phrase has NEVER had the joy of having a baby.  

Newborns need to feed from either breast or bottle about every three hours, this does not change no matter the time of day for adults.  For this reason, and many others, you will notice sleep deprivation being a common link between all parents of very young children.  Let me explain is easier terms here...

Thanks to random images on Facebook for this one.

Babies know when you are attempting to sleep.  Young children wait until the exact moment when you have completely relaxed and faded into that first level of dreaming where you are caught between conscious and blissful nothing.  As your breathing slows, your muscles finally drop tension, and you stop processing thoughts clearly, that is when they strike... screaming like their hair is on fire and the world is ending.

It seems that post birth, the saying should be "sleep like a husband".  So many of my friends have said it seems like their men can sleep through anything, and now that our boy is older I agree.

I actually got very lucky.  On those early nights with our newborn it was hubby who gave him the night-time feeding while I sat hooked to the machine in the next room because even with the battery our pump model was so loud it could wake the dead.  It was only after our boy was in his own room all night and only waking once that he suddenly gained the ability to sleep through anything.

Sleeping like a baby seems to only happen in fairytales and movies.  I'm convinced that "sleeping through the night" is a myth too, but we all have our quirks.  The one with my boys (the tiny and adult sized one) seems to be only sleeping when I am awake.  Cool trick, really.

Pregnant Pants: Why I Hate Clothes While Expecting

I loath maternity clothes.

I'm one of those women who always has trouble bending over due to a top-heavy figure, so the idea of slowly inflating a balloon in my belly is torture.  Add to it that this pregnancy has sparked some big complications with my health and it becomes torture to find clothing I know will look flattering.  I'm round in all the womanly places and the stick figure that swallowed a basketball that most designers go with to model the rare designs deemed maternity just make it a joke when trying to get an idea if something will give me a positive outcome.

A few nights ago I was perusing the web for something to cover the fact that I have gone from looking like a "well rounded woman" to a "small beached whale" and stumbled across a horrifying new trend in maternity fashion, something I can only describe as Lolita pregnancy gowns.  Not only am I fairly sure the models are all underage (this worries me on a personal level) but the dresses are seriously fashioned after what I believe are anime school girl uniforms. 

Now I'm a big fan of anime.  I will even admit to having watched some films that could be called hentai back in the days when hubby and I did not have to worry about anything animated being mistaken as "kid friendly".  What I am not a fan of... creepy stories that run right up to the line of things I think are or should be illegal and then use that to attract viewers because there are those online predators who will pay to watch that kind of smut.

Found via George Takei on Facebook.

I'm not saying all anime is evil, I am still a fan of many anime and manga series like I said before, but it should not be used as the basis for maternity fashion.

Well then what am I saying? I am saying the basis for fashion for a round bellied woman should be something comfortable and round bellied!  We're growing an entire person inside our body, that is more than difficult enough when it goes smoothly.  Add in more of those psychological pressures to be frighteningly slender and you are aiming for a new level of health risk via mental disorder.  My exact phrasing was something less direct when I posted for input from friends, but I will share it unedited.

"Fashion companies should ban the idea of a "size zero maternity model". All women feel huge and uncomfortable at some point when they are pregnant. The idea that you still have to manage to be skinny and perfect while growing an entire living person inside your body is part of the screwed up body image issues already rampant in the female psyche!"

 So this is my question to the world of women who have carried a child, do you feel like your body is being fairly represented by the models showing off the clothing you are being sold?  What would you like to see if you are not happy?  What do you think designers should know about your body while pregnant so they can offer something better for clothing and for modeling?

Tiny Monster: Picking an Online Identity for Kids

My son's birth announcement photo.  Perhaps the one and only time he
posed and stayed exactly as I wanted while taking the picture.

We all do it.  In this digital age there is hardly a day that goes by when we parents are not checking our facebook or sharing those cute snapshots of the kid doing something.  I'm guilty of being *That Mom *.  You know what I mean, the one that has an obsessive number of albums documenting everything from the first ultrasounds to his most recent slapping of some crayons on paper that prove his the next Picasso.  I make sure to balance the "perfectly posed cute" with "look at this giant wad of gum he tied into his hair while I was trying to pee with the door closed".

This morning a friend and fellow mom shared an absolutely brilliant piece that appeared last February on another great parenting blog.  This article covered something many parents in the technical age are guilty of, depicting their parenting life as *so perfect*.  The writer described it as lies by omission... we use cool filters to make it look like everything is awesome and hide the spots where the newborn just vomited an entire feeding full all over that new onesie. 

I do it too as a portrait photographer working with kids and brides to make everything picture perfect!  That photo of my son up there, that hat is covering the fact that his cute little baby butt had constant diaper rash until we figured out the right combination of cream, diaper type, and detergent for his delicate little infant skin.  Years later, I am still posting him all over the interwebz like a cool kid but with one big detail still in omission... Unless you spend time around us in person, chances are good you'll never know his name. 

A baby monster.

I posted the first camera phone images to facebook from the less than relaxing new location on the maternity floor.  Those cute, wrinkly faced images came along with the one and only time I ever shared his birth name and have long since been changed to reflect the nick name we keep for him. I have friends, co-workers, even family we are not exceptionally close to and only rarely see that know him only as "The Tiny Monster".  The name came about while I was pregnant and not yet aware of the gender of the tiny person attempting to kick an opening through my belly button like one of those creatures that haunted my nightmares for months after watching a certain scifi film.  

It is cool over time his name has proven to stick even off the digital realms because, well, it fits him so well as a toddler.  His babysitter, our friends that spend any time around him, even my parents who have seen the true evil look in his eyes that comes out when he is plotting to draw on the walls with my expensive artist's pigment pens.  

But it helps in another way too.  

You see, we are all guilty of over sharing as parents in the digital age.  From the moment we have counted those ten little fingers and toes the proof of their existence pops up on the live feeds of our entire social circle.   This means that any random bloke on Twitter, Facebook, Google, Vine, YouTube, (and whatever else I missed listing but is part of the social media insanity) is going to know all about them.  I'm not saying your child will be facing the public awareness craze of pop-culture personalities who feel the need to post selfies or even allows documenting for a TV series(I'm looking at you Snooki and Kim Kardashian), but any child who's mother is tweeting from Labor&Delivery is going to face the reality that their whole life is out there for the world to see.

Don't want to believe me, here's everything you could learn quick glance at your previous posts:

1. Birth Date: This one is seriously easy, when did you post that first picture with the "He's finally here" tag?

2. Gender: This is normally obvious well before birthdate because unless you fall into the slowly dieing group of parents not finding this out with "the big ultrasound".  If you do decide to wait, that first picture and post of the new family member is a pretty safe bet for figuring it out.

3. Name: Unless you choose to do what we have and use only a nickname, this is also often found right on that first little birth announcement post.

4. Hospital/Location: Not a big deal until you start to consider what I am listing now is not only obvious from just that first week is all you will need to apply for a copy of the baby's birth certificate... the first step to identity theft.

5. Parents Name(s): I'm sure you can guess this is one of the most obvious details for that identity theft thing I mentioned above.  It is also a good detail if you are just going for the creepy stalker factor that comes in with recent problems of child abduction. 

6. Home Location/Address: You know that little "Hometown" tag you get from profiles, yeah, consider that when you tag the location where you live and make it obvious that you are the primary parent.  This info is now out in the world and means that a dishonest person has an easy in for finding any of the many expensive items in your home left unattended while you are in the hospital with a newborn, or getting a track on that cute little bundle of joy.

I could keep going, but honestly now I want to run back and check that my profiles are all safely set to not sharing anything with anybody because I know how dangerous it is to have that out on the web.  What should we adults really be doing?  

Well, following the guidelines listed here are a good way to keep things smart and safe.  Limiting the insane sharing of details online is a great starting point for everybody, your own safety is included in that part too.  Using a nickname for kids and never listing the name of schools, day cares, or other daily activities where people can find a way to contact your child is another great idea.

So there it is... I call my son "The Tiny Monster", I don't share the name of our home town, and I over share about his self feeding habits because if you can't humiliate your kids with those cute spaghetti-in-hair photos as a toddler, their teen years will be devoid of good reasons to complain about you talking to their first girlfriend/boyfriend.

I'm fairly sure he was supposed to be eating mashed potatoes and meatballs with peas.  Yes, I feed
him in the nude after he learned to lift and "paint" under the bib with his food... I'm not a fan of
laundry even on a good day, so this lowers the rate of complete mess clothing to wade through.

Mommy's Messy Life

Well hello again interwebs,

Have a few minutes to yourself? GREAT!  I envy you right now.  So, to make your few minutes of freedom from laundry, toys, and the endless "Mommy I need..." or "Daddy can I..." here's a fun little story about how you're not alone feeling like being a parent is an endless uphill run on a treadmill with no off switch.

Sit down. Relax. Have some coffee. 
Not this one though...
This is MINE!

In 2010 I made the biggest mistake of my life... I relaxed long enough to fall in love and be happy with a great guy.

Alright, that doesn't sound like such a bad thing does it?  Well, it really isn't, until you consider the timing.  I was three-ish years out of college, living just north of NYC, working at an endless corporate nightmare job doing the best I could to make my payments for my loans, and living with this amazing man who I had the vague feeling would not be the kind to continue the cycle of ending it when the honeymoon period was over and he saw the clear crazy I had stored up from a lifetime of work and self esteem issues.  

Seriously though, you cannot imagine how wonderful it was to know that I could trust him not to give me the stink eye for spending a very rare day off in nothing but ratty pajama pants and a sports bra while I swore at the computer and shot digital zombies like my life depended on it.  This man saved me from living in my car when the relationship I had pretty much given up my dreams for failed from a serious lack of personal responsibility on both sides.  And when he was done saving me from that crap-tazm... he went and proved that the guy I had unintentionally friendzoned was actually the person I should have been dating the whole time.

I'm fairly sure I had unknowingly stamped this on his head years before while dating
Mr. I'm-The-Guy-Your-Parents-Want-You-To Bring-Home. 

Yeah, I fell hard, and I relaxed long enough to think "hey, this getting married someday idea might not be a lost cause like I thought".  So we started looking for an apartment closer to my new job and he apparently started cooking up a scheme to propose on what he knew was routinely the worst day of the year in my relationships.  It was a bumpy but fun little ride up until the point when I went to the doctor about the nausea and stomach cramps that had started plaguing my life thinking I had yet another stomach ulcer from my chronic overachiever lifestyle.

While it was honestly far more technical, I'm fairly sure this is how the doctor's answers actually sounded in my head:

Our son's gigantic kicking feet.

"Surprise, there's something living in your uterus!  That birth control you figured was doing the trick doesn't work so well when you expose yourself to certain photo developing chemicals as part of your line of work.  Cool beans though, you're now home to something cute and tiny and vaguely kidney bean shaped.  Here's some pamphlets on how being a human incubator is going to cause you emotional and physical distress at times.  Now off you go so I can see to the next patient."

So there I was, handing the most amazing guy in the world a pee-stick with two lines and praying he would do something other than freak out.  It took him about ten minutes to compose words but he finally was able to tell me he was happy and that we should figure out what we wanted to do from there.  I admit, I had a bit of an explosion in my brain at that point, but once we both had full use of our vocabulary we took the time to decide if we would go through with being parents or explore other options.

Two years later and we're married, and genuinely happy.  We don't have a perfect life by any means.  There are things I would LOVE to have money for, like paying off those school loans I have piled up or maybe getting a professional manicure for the first time in my life... What?  I've just never had the time or money to get one done, don't give me that look!  And no they are not "man hands" thank you.

As I was saying, our life is good but realistic.  The cat or dog or toddler occasionally pee on our bed and routinely take over the couch so I get to sit on the bean bag chair and watch nothing but endless cartoons.  I go to make a sandwich and find out that somebody ate all the damn tuna without telling me to get more while making a shopping list.  The diaper pail still stinks because apparently the toilet is some sort of soul-sucking demon out to eat my child and though he will pee in the bathtub it is impossible to consider using the potty like the rest of the world.

Life is real.  Messy, confusing, wonderful, and very very real.  So, welcome to the insanity.  You're not alone and I invite you to take a few minutes to laugh at the things I share because that is the beauty of being a parent.  You have your own tiny entertainment to provide hours of stories for others to laugh at while you shake your head and clean up the mess.

- Mommy J