The Challenges and Blessings of Parenthood: 2012 Addition

It's been a long time since I blogged.

This is not by accident. This is not a mistake. I didn't forget about my blog or lose my password or run out of ideas for things to write. My priorities just shifted.

Working overtime and being mom to two kids doesn't leave a lot of free time. When I do have free time (usually from about 8:30pm to 10:30pm) I am generally too tired to do much besides read a book, watch TV, or Facebook. I'm starting to be okay with that. I'm not there yet, but I'm getting there.

While I have always known I wanted to be a mother and perhaps arrogantly felt my personality would mold very nicely into motherhood, there have been some aspects that I have had to get used to. Some were harder to embrace than others, which is my my New Year's resolution is to embrace those aspects of motherhood that have been a bit harder to love. I am going to see the beauty in the mundane. I am going to view those challenging moments as the super bowl games of parenting. Here are some of the things that I have found to be personally challenging.

Challenge One:  It is hard to play with your kids. Watching them play is beautiful and wonderful. I love listening to Dannika make up stories or have conversations with mermaids, stuffed bears, or even her baby brother who doesn't really talk yet. She has such imagination and when she plays you can tell that she feels powerful. I am fascinated by how Aidric sees something from across a room that catches his eye and instantly pursues it and proceeds to take it apart. He wants to know how things work--how they feel, how they smell, and of course, how they taste. He appreciates every aspect of an object. Yes, watching your children play is beautiful. It's participating that's a bit harder.

 I'm not exactly sure when, but I stopped having conversations with mermaids a long time ago. I have a harder time knowing what they are telling me and even when I do, I don't always know what to say back to them. I stopped finding the novelty in nightlights, drawer handles, and the sound cups make when they are dragged across a kitchen floor. I forgot those things. It's almost as though I'm back in Germany, only this time it's been nine years since I've taken any German. I'm rusty. I have to think about everything before I say it. The dialogue of play doesn't flow like it used to.

Challenge Two: Finding Equilibrium I have learned
 I will never feel as though I do enough for my kids and at the same time, wonder what that statement even means. I find myself wondering if Dannika shouldn't be in more activities, then worrying that she'll be "overbooked" and I'll be a drill sergeant if I put her in swimming lessons AND tumbling AND dance at the age of five. I read Aidric two books at night and feel regret, wanting to enrich his vocabulary faster and give him a better edge in school. Then I remember that with an adult's help, Aidric should have an attention span that lasts about 3 minutes max. I'll cook a well balanced meal of lean grilled chicken, steamed vegetables, and whole grain rice. I'll feel like a great mom for cooking such a healthy meal. Then Dannika won't eat half of it and I'm knocked off of my Mom Goddess throne. The next day I make chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese and I'm a hero in her eyes. I try to make the voice that's telling me I'm a bad mommy for feeding her processed food with preservatives to shut up and eat some Spaghettios. :-P

Challenge Three: Maintaining Friendships It's no secret that kids affect your marriage. Lots of moms read "new mommy" books or articles that state that you have to plan to have time together with your spouse or you simply won't have time together anymore! But people forget to mention how kids affect your friendships and how difficult it is to maintain them when you have children to care for. A couple of months ago I made it my priority to see one friend per week. Since my husband has drill for the Air Force one weekend per month and usually travels once per month as well, it's hard for me to set a goal much higher than this, since I generally reserve babysitters for parties and bi-weekly date night. It's hard to maintain a friendship with someone if you only see a pal once a month, but you do what  you can and try to make those people feel valued while you're with them, because despite the decrease in time spent they still mean the world to you. I also find myself avoiding long outings with friends, because of the guilt I feel when I am away from my kids. I plan coffee rather than dinner or will meet someone at 8:30pm at night, because my kids will be in bed by then. I struggle not to bring up my kids too much, but often find the topic just too tempting. I am in love with them. I am the middle school girl who can't stop talking about her crush from English class. I can't resist! I have also found that friendship with women who have children the same age as mine just feels very natural. Most of the women at Dannika's tumbling practice are a fair amount older than me, but I relate to them, because they are also dealing with what it means to have a 5 or 6 year-old girl. Six years ago I was a 21 year-old junior in college, living in an apartment that usually contained eight people. These women were pregnant or raising babies. They probably wouldn't have picked me for a friend either!


Challenge Four: The House that Doubles as a Daycare Center I like a nice, tidy house. I like things in their spot. I like art. I like accent walls and matching furniture. I like clutter free counters. These things, while nice, aren't very practical once children arrive. The only room in my house that doesn't contain kid stuff right now is my bedroom and that's only because I put Aidric's white shark that he got from Dannika for Christmas back in his toy box a little bit ago. My kitchen has a baby walker, my living room has a baby gym and a boppy pillow, my dining room has a high chair, my office has a jumparoo, my bathroom has light up toothbrushes, fire fighting ducks, and floating fish, my garage has a stroller, a kiddie pool, and a bike with training wheels, and my deck has a Little Tikes picnic table. Nothing has been left untouched. And as for the clean and tidy thing? I do my best, but often find myself back at Challenge Two wondering if it's a better use of my time to keep the counters clean or build block towers for Aidric to knock down.

So those are just a few of the things that I have found personally challenging about being a mama. In no way do they compare or counteract with the immense blessings that my children provide, however, which is why I am going to try to view these challenges in a different light during 2013.  May I grow and evolve from these things even more in the new year. Happy 2013!


 

And While She Rocked Him She Sang . . .

"I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."

Tonight I did something I have never done before. Aidric was sleeping peacefully. Not fussing or crying, just sleeping like the baby that he is. Despite this I went into his room, picked him up, held him in my arms, and rocked him back and forth, back and forth. Just because I missed him. Just because I love him. Just because he's my baby. 

 

My Grandma Rita used to read to me from this book and sing the words to the song that has famously captured the pages of this children's classic. I will forever treasure this book, just as I do the others that she read to me and the stories we made up together. I remember quite vividly a book with no words, only pictures, about how fairies helped Santa accomplish his duties on Christmas Eve. I remember her reading us the story of the Steadfast Tin Soldier and wanting to be brave and selfless and strong like him.  I remember Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Grandma did great voices when she read. She made stories come alive. I could tell that she treasured books, because when she was finished reading one it would go into the chest that sat behind her rocking chair. It was filled with soft blankets and the books that she  read to me. It was like the blankets were meant to cushion the books--like they were fragile treasures.

I wonder if I will ever be a grandmother. What books will my children grow to treasure? What books will my grandchildren enjoy? I hope that in a world with Facebook, Twitter, iPads, Wii, and PSP that authors will continue to produce rich, plush stories like the kind I enjoyed. I hope they grow to love reading. 

Love, 

Poppy's Mama

Bad Attitude

I try to look on the bright side of things. I tell myself things constantly like, "It'll be okay", "This is just a challenge that you'll have to get through", "God has a plan", and "You're going to be a better person for this". But try as I might, I'm having a really hard time having a good attitude when it comes to going back to work.Who wants to leave this?

August is just around the corner and with that comes the start of the school year. I wish I could say I love my job, but truth be told, in the five years I've been teaching my job has gotten harder every year. It is hard to love something when you feel like you're always getting bad news, always being let down. Having to transfer positions, working with a large special needs population, increasing class sizes, curriculum changes that aren't always for the better, not having enough money to adequately equip my classroom with supplies, and planning time that has essentially decreased every year are just some of the challenges I've faced during my short time in education. I missed out on "the glory years" of teaching, as a friend of mine put it. Boy would I love to know what it's like to work 8 or even 9 hours a day and be able to come home with my work done. Unfortunately, that's never been the case.

(I know, I know. I'm being a whiner.)

All summer long I've been bombarded with the question, "So are you going back to work in the fall?" This question doesn't sound judgmental, but it quickly starts to feel that way. It becomes a gateway for comments like, "I stayed home when my kids were little. It was the best thing for them and my family." or "Have you thought about working part time?" or "Can your family afford for you not to work?" I try to remain polite when I say, "Working full time is what is best for my family right now." Even though in some ways, I'm not sure if that's really true.

Granted, I've never been the type of person who was content to stay home while others went out. I am happiest when I am busy and have lots of opportunities to be out in the real world and interact with lots of people. As much as I enjoy the companionship at my weekly postpartum baby class, it is not enough to sustain me mentally or emotionally long-term. After awhile I will begin to resent my role as wife and mother. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for women who do stay home. I've been doing it for nearly five months and it is not easy! It is lonely, tiring work! I admire women who stay home in part because it is so hard for me. I don't really want to be a stay-at-home mom.

But teaching elementary school is a job that requires about 60 hours a week in order to do it well--even more if you want to be exceptional. I can't help but feel that while I'm off teaching, preparing for lessons, getting supplies ready, making seating charts, answering parent emails, and grading papers for the children of others, I am robbing my own children of time with their mother. I am putting other people's kids before my own. That doesn't feel right. Quite frankly, it makes me grumpy. It gives me a bad attitude--an attitude that I haven't been able to shake with prayer or positive self talk. I am so scared that I am not going to be able to teach and raise my own children the way I want because of being absent or busy with work. It makes me ill to think about it. Not to mention, how will the dogs ever get walked? How am I going to make it to the gym 3-4 times a week? Is my house doomed to a future of perpetual messes because I won't be available to clean it? How much fast food are we going to end up eating? Will I ever have time to see friends, read a book, or write a blog entry? Will I ever get to go on dates with my husband? How many hours am I going to get to sleep at night? Will I even get to sleep at night?

I feel like I have to choose between other people's kid and my own.  I shouldn't have to cheat my students to spend time with my kids--after all, they are someone's baby too. Likewise, I shouldn't have to cheat my kids to be a good teacher for my students. I want to have a balanced life.

 I've got a bad attitude about all of this. I'm working on it, but I need help. I need prayers. I need support. I need encouragement. If you have some advice for me, please give me a call. I could use it.

- "Poppy's" Grumpy  Mama

Hugs!

Every so often Aidric has a frustrating couple of days where he needs to be held almost constantly. The past couple of days have been that way.  Granted, he got his two month shots yesterday and the doctor warned me that he might be fussy. But it’s when nothing outside of the ordinary is going on that these episodes are especially confusing.

Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE holding my son. While he may be small on the growth charts, in my opinion he’s in the 99^th percentiles for cuteness and snuggling ability. He’s wonderful.

But. . . sometimes I need some time to myself too.  To go to the bathroom without the sound of crying in the background because (heaven forbid) I put him in his swing or in his playpen. To take a shower. To make a hot meal AND eat it without interruption. But there’s no real way to explain that to Aidric. He doesn’t understand. He just wants a hug from his mom.

I got to thinking about this, and in this way, many adults aren’t much different from babies. After a hard day—whether we can explain why we feel the way we do or not—we just need a hug from someone we love. Sometimes our favorite foods, or advice, or a few kind words won’t do. Sometimes we just want to be held by someone who loves us.  And I love him very, very much.

What I've Learned So Far

* You see pieces of yourself in your child, but mostly, they are just them. They are not necessarily a combination of you and your partner--they are a unique human being.

*  Every minute counts when you have an infant. Since having Aidric I find myself measuring time not by hours or minutes, but by the amount of time I have until he'll probably want to be fed again. I find myself choosing things like eating breakfast or getting a shower in over more sleep.

* Nursing and being pregnant force you to make healthier choices you wouldn't always make because your health and longevity effect someone else in a more direct way than ever. It's easier to pick the oatmeal over the doughnut than it used to be.

* I still like doughnuts.

* My body wasn't nearly as destroyed as I expected it to be after childbirth. I'm carrying around an extra ten pounds. My hips and ribs are wider. My bust is larger. My belly is softer. But you know what? It's really not that bad. I look like myself, about half of my pre-pregnancy clothes fit, and my husband thinks I'm beautiful, so who cares? I'll get where I want to be eventually.

* Speaking of destroying your body, did you know that the level of trauma on your body during childbirth is like being in 3 car accidents? Fun fact.

* I now know for sure when I became a mother--it was when I said my stepfamily vows to Dannika.Any sort of bias I may have had towards my biological child was nipped in the bud when I promised myself two months before the wedding that I would love her, that her father and I would show her what a healthy relationship/marriage looks like, and that I would always be respectful to her biological mother. Since Aidric was born it has been of utmost importance to me to make one-on-one time for Dannika every day whether it be reading a book together, praying for her at bedtime, or planting flowers with her out in the yard. She is my child, just as Aidric is, and I want the very best for her in life.

* Nursing clothes are ridiculously expensive for what they are. If I had any sort of background in business or fashion design I would create the Target or Kohls or nursing attire and completely OWN the market.

* Speaking of nursing, breastfeeding is one of the hardest things I have ever done. This includes moving to a different school district as a pre-teenager, getting an A in math class (those who know me can appreciate this one), teaching 7th grade English at an impoverished school, and moving past a heart wrenching break up. I always knew that breastfeeding was difficult, but I didn't really understand why until recently. Simply put you get to do something that physically hurts and exposes yourself inappropriately once every 2 hours for approximately 20 minutes and while you do it, you can't do much else. Repeat every 2 hours around the clock, but feel free to take a longer break at bedtime. You know, say, 4 hours. Continue for the next several months.

Oye.

And yet, I still do it because it's good for my baby and giving my baby formula makes me feel guilty.

* Other things that make me feel guilty: Not picking up A.J. when he wants to be held, giving him a bath, not giving him a bath, making him do "tummy time", not making him do "tummy time", not talking to him enough, not singing to him enough, not sheltering him enough, sheltering him too much, and so on. . .

* Aidric's favorite setting on his "Sleep Sheep" is called whale. Essentially, my son finds the sound of an alien mating call soothing. To each his own.

* I am not scared to go walking around my neighborhood by myself or with my dogs. Walking around the neighborhood with my baby racks my nerves.

* I'm getting very good at doing things with one hand. I'm typing this entry mostly with my right hand, because Aidric is sleeping in my left.

* Stay-at-Home Mom= Professional Worrier

* It isn't "the miracle of childbirth". It's the miracle of a child.

Birth Story Part 3: Finale!

Today is Aidric’s 1 month birthday.  It is probably time I ended the story of Aidric’s birth, so here it goes.

Again, I want to forewarn readers that this entry is more graphic than the usual reading you will find on my blog. Please be advised to stop reading if you’re one to be offended or disgusted by details of a birth. . .

Now where did I leave off?

As I said before, I was permitted by my midwife to wait another 3 hours (approximately midnight) before starting Pitocin. Unfortunately, at midnight I was still around 4-5 centimeters. Not quite halfway dilated to pushing stage. I had no choice. I had to be hooked up to an IV with Pitocin. No laboring in the water for me, no walking around freely, and  some seriously strong contractions lay ahead. I had been up for the better part of two days.  The outcome of a natural birth was now gone and there was a good chance I’d end up seeking pain medication. I told myself going into it that I wouldn’t beat myself up about it if I ended up requesting meds and looking back on it, I still don’t.  After 18 hours of labor, several of which were on Pitocin, I ended up requesting the epidural and around 19 hours I got one.  Here’s why I did what I did: 

A.      I couldn’t have truly had a natural birth anyways. I was already on Pitocin and that was going to put me at a higher risk for interventions I wanted to avoid in the first place by not getting an epidural. Avoiding those interventions was my largest reason for wanting a natural birth.

B.      I only had a few hours of sleep over the course of two days.  My body was completely worn out.

C.      They doubled my Pitocin dosage without telling me a couple of hours in. Coincidentally, it wasn’t long after that that I requested drugs.

D.      Aidric was born “sunny side up”. Two words: back labor.

E.       My nurses, while competent, had not been very helpful in helping me deal naturally with the pain. When you’re in labor, you can’t really be the one telling them what you need from them to help. You just need them to do it.

F.       I love my husband dearly, but the same goes for him. He didn’t know how to help me unless I was telling him what to do and trying to deal with the pain and tell him what to do were too much. As he said, “When someone is in as much pain as you were in, you just don’t know how to help them.”

Was I a little mad that we spent money on a 12 week natural birth class and I bailed? Yes. Do I feel a little robbed of the bragging rights I would have had to say that I gave birth naturally? Yes. But I have to say that getting the epidural wasn’t nearly as bad as I had made it out to be. First of all, I thought getting a large needle put into my spine would hurt like crazy, but truth be told, getting an epidural is like getting pinched on the arm while someone is simultaneously breaking your leg. You’re in so much pain, you don’t even notice it. Secondly, I thought getting an epidural would rob me of “the birth experience”, but it didn’t do that either. I could still feel my back, my legs, etc. I could tell when I was having a contraction and I could tell when I was supposed to push or when a contraction was coming on before the hospital staff could. Not to be graphic, but I recall the feeling of Aidric leaving my body and it was an amazing moment—partially because it was absent pain.

Around 10:30am I was 10 centimeters dilated and began to push. Luckily, our birthing class wasn't a total wash. I ended up utilizing my favorite birthing position from class (side-lying) to give birth to Aidric and I used music to help keep the mood of the room positive and upbeat. At 12:30pm they told me that if Aidric wasn’t born soon, I would need an episiotomy and they would be calling in Dr. Bedia to do an assisted vacuum delivery.  Aidric had gotten stuck and we were both losing oxygen. These things were a collection of my biggest fears. I would have much rather had a c-section than a vacuum delivery and I very much didn’t want my baby to be in danger. Susan told me to reach down and touch my baby. I felt Aidric’s head. I saw all of the staff coming in to do the vacuum delivery. I pushed harder than I ever thought possible. Aidric was born just seconds before I would have needed major medical intervention--12:42pm on April 3rd of 2012 to be exact. I dodged the dreaded episiotomy and was left with only a small tear. Aidric and I were both healthy. We made it!

This picture was taken just minutes after Aidric was born:

Aidric after he was cleaned up:

 Aidric with Dannika:

 Aidric looks at me with his big blue eyes. 1 month old today.

 God bless, 
          "Poppy Seed's" Mama 

Birth Story: Part Two

Due to my Type A personality, check-in at the hospital was a breeze because we’d already done a hospital tour and I filled out all our admittance papers online weeks earlier.  I still wasn’t in pain and generally felt really on top of it! This is really key for people who want to have a natural birth. It’s important that mentally you feel prepared, calm, and like you can do it. Well, I may have gone into it feeling confident, but the odds were stacked against me in the first hour we were there. I think you’ll be able to see why.

To put it frankly, the first nurse I had did not seem to be a proponent of natural childbirth, mentioning only that she had done it both ways (without pain medication and with it) and preferring not to comment on what she thought was the better experience.  Then, to make matters worse, she asked me for my living will. Granted,  it was hospital protocol for her to ask me for this, but there’s no better way to freak out a woman in labor than to tell her that there is a possibility she is about to die and become rude with her when she tells you she’s a DNR. . . Nevermind .There is a better way to freak out a woman in labor. And that brings me to the lovely phlebotomist that visited me next. 

What this man was about to tell me was something I had seen circulating Facebook and had spent days trying to forget, as the first time I saw it I cried (blame the pregnancy hormones if you want to, it terrified me plain and simple). 

“So you’re gonna have a baby, right?”

Not exactly the confident and professional attitude you’d like to see in your medical professional. This guy already wasn’t impressing me and I should have known then to request someone else, even if all he was doing was a blood draw.

“Yep!”

“Wow.  I'm glad I'm not in your position! You know they say that the pain of childbirth is like breaking over 30 bones in your body at the same time. I’ve heard that there’s this like, pain scale thing. I don’t know how they do it, but they can measure pain. Well, most people can only take up to a 40 on the pain scale and childbirth is supposed to be like, 70. You’ll be fine if you get the epidural though. You’re getting an epidural, right?”

“Actually, I was planning to try to do everything naturally.”

“Wow. You’re crazy. I’d change my mind if I were you. Every nurse or doctor that walks in here—I’d be asking them for pain medication. More pain meds! That’s what I’d do!”

What do you even say to that? I wanted to throw something at him for being so insensitive, but unfortunately he was the one with the sharp object and not me.  I was already nervous, but this blow was really hard to push out of my mind. 

Susan, my midwife, came in to check how I was progressing. At around 5pm I was 3 centimeters dilated and pretty comfortable all things considered. Pleased with my progress, she said I’d be checked again around 9pm and hopefully I would be further along. She also told me (discretely) that she wouldn’t let the current nurse touch me and that I’d have someone different by 9pm when it was time to be checked again. In the meantime I was supposed to walk and relax. 

I did as I was told. I walked around. I watched the NCAA championship game (Louisville vs. Kentucky). I Facebooked. I walked around some more. I found it very difficult to pay attention to much of anything and every time I had a contraction I found myself evaluating how bad it was after my conversation with the Phlebotomist of the Year.  I was pretty nervous.

9pm came around and so did my new nurse.  The good news was that she was supportive of natural childbirth and a lot friendlier than my previous nurse. The bad news was that she went to high school with me! She was one grade above me during high school.  We weren’t friends, we weren’t enemies, we were just acquaintances .  Let me tell you—you don’t want to have an acquaintance as your labor and deliver nurse. When it comes to these kinds of matters you either want to know the people in the delivery room with you really well or you want them to be complete strangers that you won’t recognize or see again. Once more, my anxiety level went up.  To make matters worse, I wasn’t progressing well. In the four hours since I’d been checked I had only dilated one more centimeter. Not ideal, considering my water had broken nearly 12 hours prior. My nurse talked to my midwife about the situation and they agreed that if I wanted to, I could go until around midnight-ish without any medical intervention, but if I wasn’t making better progress soon after, I’d have to start Pitocin. 

I really didn’t want Pitocin. I knew that if I had it, it would make it even more difficult to have the natural birth I was hoping for. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Pitocin, it causes your contractions to go on steroids. I would be looking at a more painful labor. Since Pitocin comes with some side effects including increased heart rate and decreased blood pressure, it also makes it more likely that one will have to have birth interventions including c-section, vacuum, and forceps delivery—all things I was trying to avoid by putting up with the pain of a natural birth. 

My stomach sank.

END PART TWO

Birth Story: Part 1

Of all of my blog entries, this one was the hardest to start and I think it’s because my birth story didn’t really have a definitive starting point. 

My birth did not go as planned or predicted, but in the end, all turned out okay. Please be advised that this blog entry may be more “graphic” than other entries and if you’re turned off by words like cervix and episiotomy, you should probably stop reading here. 

***

On Sunday ,April 1^st I went to bed exhausted and yet unable to sleep. Perhaps I should think of that as Aidric’s first April Fool’s Day joke on me--that the night before I would go into labor, I wouldn’t be able to get any rest. Instead, I laid awake in bed unable to turn off my mind or get comfortable. At 2am on April 2^nd  I gave up, padded into the living room, turned on the lamp and began reading some travel guides about Ireland for Chris’s and my anniversary trip next year. I read for an hour or so, drank some tea, and attempted sleep again but between contractions and being uncomfortable it was still a pretty rough night. I fell asleep around 4am and got up before 8am on April 2^nd. 

Being a teacher, I took maternity leave two weeks before my due date--partly because I was afraid of going into labor at school, partly because of my rib pain, and partly because it was the week after spring break and that made planning and a transition to a long-term sub easier on my students. In hindsight I’m VERY glad I did it this way, because if I hadn’t, my water would have broken at school during the Iowa Assessments (formerly ITBS).  I’m guessing one or two of my kids would have been “left behind” so to speak had I been the one to give them the test that day. 

As it was, I was at home folding a load of laundry shortly before lunch when all of a sudden I felt as though I had peed my pants. Although it had never happened to me before, I read that many women experience some incontinence during the later stage of pregnancy, due to a small person sitting on their bladder. I was annoyed, but changed my underwear and tried to forget about it. Until it happened again. 5 minutes later.  

The third time that I “peed my pants” it dawned on me that my water may have broken. I’d read that when a woman’s water breaks it is often more of a slow “trickle” due to the baby’s head acting like a plug in a drain, though a woman's water breaks before the onset of active labor only 10% of the time. I decided to call Midwife Services at my hospital and let them know what happened. They insisted I come in and get checked. I emailed my husband at work to let him know what happened and to tell him that I had to go in and be checked, though I was extremely embarrassed to do so. I really didn’t want to have to confess to another person that I may have peed my pants three times in a row during a half hour—even if that person was married to me. 

It didn’t take long at the office to discover that my water was broken. After changing  and laying back on the table to be checked, both my midwife and I were surprised by a large gush of “water” all over the exam table and the floor.  Susan looked up and smiled at me, “Yup! You’re in labor. Technically I’m not supposed to let you leave—hospital protocol says you need to get into a delivery room right away. But you seem comfortable still. Call your husband. Go home and grab your things. I want to see you at the hospital in no less than two hours.”

At that moment I felt excitement, fear, and relief. I was going to have my baby soon and thank goodness I hadn’t actually peed my pants.  I called Chris at work. 

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“I was right. My water broke.  We need to be at the hospital in less than two hours.”

“Really?”

I remember that response from Chris vividly because I was a little annoyed that he assumed I had just wet my pants three times in a row. We worked out the details and agreed to meet at home ASAP.

I went and grabbed lunch at a drive-through on the way home, though by then it was almost 2:30. I came home to see Chris systematically gathering our things. Both of us were excited, yet calm, a little flighty and yet, well-planned.  I was glad that as we pulled out of the driveway I was still not experiencing much pain and that our trip down I-235 would not involve screaming. . . 

END PART ONE

(My son is crying, so you'll have to wait to hear the rest until later)

A picture of my birth bracelet and belly at 39 weeks gestation. . . the first photo we took at the hospital.

Playlist for Labor and Delivery (aka Gangsta's Paradise)

One of the things we were taught in Bradley Class was to make a playlist or CD for birth.

"Make sure your CD includes music for all sorts of moods. I actually gave birth while listening to Gangsta's Paradise, " said our teacher, who is a petite, gray-haired woman. As snickers bounced off of the walls of the room, she explained, "You'll need music that makes you feel energized at some points and calm at others."

Well, my playlist doesn't include Gangsta's Paradise, but it does include a few titles that I found particularly ironic, like:

-Baby by Justin Bieber
-Closer to Love by Mat Kearny
-Everything is Changing by Keane

...or some less "positive" sounding ironies:

 -Hurts like Heaven by Coldplay
-The Hardest Part by Colplay (maybe I'll listen to this song at 10 centimeters)
-Paralyzer by Finger Eleven (in case I need an epidural)
-Sweetly Broken by Jeremy Riddle (I don't think I need to explain this one.)

At any rate, here is my brainstorm list for what I'll be listening to during childbirth. :-)

Playlist for Birth

Section 1: Upbeat, Positive Music to Make Me Smile

·         Love Train by the O’Jays              

·         Higher and Higher by Jackie Wilson

·         Baby by Justin Bieber

·         Down by Jay Sean

G   Get Down On It by Kool and the Gang

  

Section 2: Rock Ballads/Favorites

·         Nothing Left to Lose by Mat Kearney

·         Closer to Love by Mat Kearney

·         Everything’s Changing by Keane

·         Is it Any Wonder by Keane

·         Hurts like Heaven by Coldplay

·         Living in Technicolor by Coldplay

·         Every Teardrop is a Waterfall by Coldplay

·         A Message by Coldplay

·         The Hardest Part by Coldplay

·         Things I Don’t Understand by Coldplay

·         Set Fire to the Rain by Adele

·         Someone Like you by Adele

·         The Walk by Imogen Heap

·         First Train Home by Imogen Heap

·         Tidal by Imogen Heap

·         Swoon by Imogen Heap

·         Let Go by Frou Frou (Imogen Heap)

Section 3: Powerful/Amped Music (Hard Rock and Hip Hop)

·         Mr. Brightside by The Killers

·         Somebody Told Me by The Killers

·         Everlong by Foo Fighters

·         My Hero by Foo Fighters

·         Rope by Foo Fighters

·         Times Like These by Foo Fighters

·         Hey Man, Nice Shot by Filter

·         Paralyzer by Finger Eleven

·         Closer by Nine Inch Nails

·         Hate It or Love It by The Game

·         Dirt Off Your Shoulder by Jay Z

·         Can I Get A. . . by Jay Z

·         Hard Knock Life by Jay Z

·         Not Afraid by Eminem

·         California Love by Tupac

·         OMG! By Usher

·         “Yeah!” by Usher

Section 4: Calming Music

·         John Fluker—The Sound of Peace (entire disc)

·         David Nevue—Overcome (entire disc)

·         anything by Lorie Line

·         Yellow by Coldplay

·         Sparks by Coldplay

·         We Never Change by Coldplay

·         Green Eyes by Coldplay

Section 5: Christian Favorites

·         Jesus Freak by DC Talk

·         Consume Me by DC Talk

·         Between You and Me by DC Talk

·         Sweetly Broken by Jeremy Riddle

·         Give You Glory by Jeremy Camp

·         Our God by Chris Tomlin

·         I’m Not Who I Was by Brandon Heath

·         The Light in Me by Brandon Heath

·         Your Love by Brandon Heath

Please comment with suggestions for labor playlist songs, or tell me about what you were listening to when you gave birth to your child. :-)

Love,

Poppy's Mama