Infertility, the universe's ultimate bitch-slap!

I'm a somewhat philosophical person. I also enjoy science, anthropology, and history. Never mind women's-lib or the new millennium, when it comes down to it, human's are made to, and meant to, reproduce, and that's really all there is. Nature does not care if you desire children, nature does not care if you can afford children, and nature doesn't care if you're too young or old for children. If you have the remote capability of having or siring a child, Nature will do everything in her power to ensure you do just that. She'll send women monthly reminders. For men, she sends a daily, (often in the morning) reminder that your goal that day, is to procreate.

Nature tells you to write that little note to your friends, telling them how cute "he" is. Nature tells "him" to ask her out. Nature tells construction workers to whistle at every woman of child-bearing age who walks by.

Sure, you can try to ignore her. Tell her to go to hell. But never forget this, Nature has one hell of a sense of humor. Never forget that she's infamous for her sneak-attacks. Nature can be an evil little Trickster!

More often than not, the day comes when Nature shows up, knocking at your door. You can choose not to answer, but she won't go away. She's like a bill-collector constantly calling you, all hours of the day and night, and especially holidays. Eventually, 85% of all humans open that door. Not only do they open it, but they welcome Nature into their homes. Some do it reluctantly mind you, but in the end, Nature usually wins.

There are some who still try to fight off Nature. Locking your door does not always ensure Nature will go away. She can creep through unlocked windows, maybe even your chimney! Don't forget those sneak-attacks that she's notorious for. Sometimes, she breaks the door down even...I mean, it's her job after all.

Of course knocking is just her nice way of letting you know she's there. More often than not, whether or not you open the door, she finds a way to come in for a visit, and there's not much you can do to successfully stop her.

Of course there are a lucky few who manage to elude her, but not all are by choice, in fact, I venture most are not by choice. Some open the door willingly only to find no one waiting for them on the porch. Some, keep the door unlocked, waiting for Nature's visit. Sometimes Nature never arrives, and for someone who's sitting in their living room 24 hours day, dressed, ready, with fresh cookies and a nice pot of tea steeping, Nature never arriving is the worst thing in the world. That person put everything on hold to sit there, ready, just waiting for a knock that will never come. And that's a very sad thing.

For most of us who are/were waiting for Nature, she just comes really late. Sometimes, she gets lost. SOMEONE NEEDS TO BUY HER A GPS!!!! When the time came for me to open the door to Nature...she was lost, driving around with a lousy Mapquest print-out probably, struggling to find her way to my house....for years...and years. I'm not a fan of anyone in my life being tardy. So I sat...and I waited....and waited....and waited.

We were dressed, we had the guest room all ready and waiting for Nature, but she didn't come when we were expecting her. Finally she called one day to tell us she was running really late, and that there was a less than 1% chance of her EVER coming to our house. Talk about a slap in the face. At least she called, but still....less than 1% is like....zero. But it's not absolute-zero. Less than 1% meant we had to keep the guest room ready, and we had to sit and wait for her in-case she decided to grace us with her presence.

The worst part of it was, the window of time that she could knock on our door was dwindling with each passing day. Even if she did come, since she was coming so late, the chance of her doing what needed to be done and it all turning out well was becoming very slim.

Each month, like clock work, she sent a reminder to me that she was not coming. One month, she forgot to send the reminder! So I really expected her at any moment, only to find she never intended to call on us that month. I guess her secretary 'forgot' to send me the "She's not coming" memo. About two weeks later, I finally got word she wasn't coming. Nature can be a tease...again, evil Trickster.

Finally I told her that we were not going to be home and to not bother even thinking of knocking on my door that month. We had plans....and we'd waited for two and a half years for her, and we simply couldn't sit around the house waiting that month. I guess her secretary forgot to give her that memo, because that's precisely when she granted us with a sneak-attack!

Yup...I accidentally/on purpose got pregnant. The oxymoron to end all oxymoron's. We kept the door unlocked just in case she decided to show up while we were home, and, well, she did.

The rest is history. She lied. What can I say.

Okay, enough of the cutesy minutia. That flowery description was for those of you who like my writing. For the rest, and for those who can't/don't think outside the box, here's how I really feel about infertility. It's a bunch of crap!

Like I said in the beginning, reproduction is the only reason we are here on this planet. Not just us, animals, plants, even viruses. Everything needs to reproduce. Not everything wants to though. I sure didn't. I did not want kids....ever. Kids...are...crap. I actually still feel this way. I can't stand kids, I detest children. Children are mean, self-absorbed, locust-like rapers of the natural world as we know it. Yup. I do feel this way. Despite this, I still had a burning desire to have one of these creatures of my own. And I don't care what you have to say in defense of these often smelly creatures. I don't like them. I still don't like them.

That's what amazes me. I don't like children, yet I wanted one. ONE. LOL. Not only did I want one but that's all I could think about. I guess it hit me when I was 30 years old or so. Yup, Nature came late, and then she didn't even do her job for five more years! The human need to reproduce is that strong, so strong it could take a person like myself and turn them into one of those people who understood what it was like to just take someone's child from their womb. Yeah, it's sick, but I understand why someone could crack and do that. Not that I ever would. :-)

I feel the need to say this in very large print to get my point across. Infertility is one of those things that unless you've experienced it yourself, you'll NEVER understand it. Ever!!!

You can try to imagine it, but you'll never understand. It's a small club, thankfully. The day you're told you'll never have children, for whatever reason, is the day you realize that you are a cosmic-failure. Survival of the fittest? Well that's not you. You are so unworthy, your genes can't even move forward. The buck must stop with you, because you're just a mammoth-loser. You may as well just kill yourself now to save the universe from having to kill you off itself. It's like getting a postcard from the Universe saying "You Suck!" Yup, you just got the world's biggest, clearest middle finger shoved in your face, you understand what I mean? Chances are you don't, since I only know very few people who've struggled with infertility.

I'll admit, I didn't understand it when my friend struggled with it 10 years ago. Sure, I felt bad for her, but there's nothing you can do! Kids are crap like I said earlier, and if you can't have them, so be it, move on with life.

After you're told that you will NEVER, ever, ever conceive a child, these are the things you do not want to hear from friends or family:

Some people aren't meant to have children

If it's meant to happen, it will

Oh well, you never wanted them all that much anyway, so why are you so upset now?

Go buy one

There's always adoption

Gee, (I get pregnant)/(I got her pregnant) just by saying the word pregnant, sure was simple for me!

We were told each of those lines, more than once, from ignorant people who just didn't understand. And thank God they didn't understand, because if they did, that would mean that they too were infertile, which would make this an epidemic. It's so easy to just blow it off as not a big deal. Let's face it, most people take for granted things that they never worked for. Most people take pregnancy for granted, and that's good! It should be that easy. It's meant to be that simple.

Yes, some people find reproduction to be a burden, some people find it a blessing, however you feel about it, the fact remains that it's fundamental to our being, and it's what we're meant to do. As a woman you are defined by your ability to have children. When you don't/can't, it makes you feel like less of a woman. As a man, you are supposed to sire children, I can only imagine that when you don't/can't, you too, feel like less of a man.

Walking around feeling like the world's biggest loser every day does wear on you. This breaks up marriages. Usually it's just one of you that's infertile, not both, so there's always guilt and blame. It's kind of like death, (in a sense, it's a death of your line after all) first you're in denial, then you're angry, then sad, then you grieve, but it's always with you. You see people all over with children and you wonder, are they worthy? You see a pregnant woman, and you hate her.

Unlike death, infertility isn't always permanent. You can get through it. For most infertile couples, money saves the day, and the family name. Money can pay for necessary fertility treatments and drugs, nearly none of which are covered by medical insurance. Money can pay for an adoption (You didn't think that was free did you?) or to purchase a baby even. Money. Yes, money. Obviously we lacked money. We couldn't afford in-vitro. We couldn't even afford the very expensive testing (over $2,500, none covered by insurance) to find out that we WERE infertile. Of course, we had no choice but to seek specialist's help, but naturally we couldn't afford their 'solutions' to our problem.

Most people can't. It's very, very expensive. Adoption is very expensive and good luck getting a newborn baby too. So not only are you too big a loser to reproduce, but you're too poor too as well. Let's add some insult to that injury shall we? One can't help but be negative about infertility when they are put in that position.

"You're too lame to pass your genes on, because you're a loser and you suck. You'll never pass your genes along. Now, if you give me $25,000, "maybe" your genes can be passed by tricking Nature....Nature is pretty kick-ass, unlike you, and it's expensive to trick her. Oh, you don't have $25,000 laying around? Well, screw you! The buck ends with you, as it should, because you are the world's most giant loser ever, and the buck ending with you is a good thing for humanity. Have a nice day."

Carry that on your shoulders day in and day out. Now, look upon the person "Who's fault it is" and try not to tear their head off! It takes a strong marriage to not end over something like this. How does one not walk around depressed all the time after this? How is one not filled with rage all the time? A lifetime's full of hopes and dreams shattered because you're inept, or the person you chose as your partner is inept, or even worse, you're both inept.

I met a person who had the worst of the worst in the infertility universe....they had...."Unexplained Infertility."

At least we had an explanation. My husband was, in fact....sterile. Now why remains a mystery. We had that, mixed with my poor health and advancing age, and then 18 months into our quest, ovarian cysts, all of which made it impossible for us to conceive. Our only chances were in-vitro with a good sperm of his, IF one could even be found, or artificial insemination with a sperm donor....which is what we decided to do, once we could afford it.

But there was that whole money thing, and our lack of the funds required for said inseminations. So, we had to try the old fashioned way. If you thought being infertile was stressful and depressing, try defying the odds and attempting to do the impossible...month after month, when logic screams at you to just stop because your attempts are futile.

The time, and money and thought involved with constantly charting and calculating ovulation dates month after month is exhausting....and why were we even doing that? Without sperm, one can't get pregnant. Month after month you spend half of the month trying to get pregnant and the other half thinking you are, when in fact, you aren't, and never will be. Each month when your period is approaching you wonder if your boobs are sore because you're pregnant, or are they sore because you're not?

You dream of seeing a positive pregnancy test. It's a dream that will likely never be realized. You stare at the multiple negative ones and wonder if you're reading them wrong. You also spend a fortune on those darn things, paying for disappointment.

God forbid you're even one day late. You run out to the drug store and get a pregnancy test, only to have it read negative over and over, month after month. People tell you to get a good, expensive one, so that's what you do. You hear about false-negatives and remain optimistic. (In the end, I found out I was pregnant on a $6 two pack of Kroger brand tests at Chris's insistence, since I'd given up on taking pregnancy tests.)

I told you earlier what you DON'T want to hear when you find out you're infertile. You're probably wondering what we want to hear. Well other than "You're pregnant"....nothing. "I understand" coming from someone who's been through it helps, "I"m so sorry to hear this" never hurts. A good, honest, "I just can't imagine" is benign enough.

There's nothing really to be said. Even the good stories people tell you don't really help. We got tons of the "Oh my mother's, neighbor's, son's, receptionist's, hairdresser was told they'd never conceive and now she has four kids...." tales don't actually help. At least, they didn't help me. I'm not that person's mother's, neighbor's, son's, receptionist's, hairdresser so this does not apply to me.

Logically I knew the stories were true. I also knew more often than not, infertility led to nothing but a life full of sorrow and loneliness.

When you want a baby, and can't have one, it dominates every thought and ever fiber of your being. Every time you hear that someone is pregnant, it doesn't matter who....a friend, a family member, a celebrity even, you suddenly hate that person. Why do they deserve a child and I don't? Why are they worthy to pass their genes while mine have to die off? Sure, you lie and tell them "Congratulations!" to their face but behind their back, you're filled with sadness and envy.

Then you see some baby with a parent walking down the street, and the parent is clearly a loser moron piece of trash. That piece of work was able to pass their genes, but I'm not? What's wrong with the universe when homeless crack heads can have and sire babies, but we can't? Those are the days you're full of rage, bitterness and utter hatred.

Then you have to go shopping for baby showers for friends and family, when all you want is for them not to have the baby. 'Because "I" can't have a baby, no one should' is the thinking. It's irrational and immature, but it is what it is. In the end are you happy for the friends and family who have the baby? Sure, but it's difficult to overcome the envy and sadness. Talk about feeling inadequate.

Now you may ask, how did Chris and I survive this? I have no idea. I can't speak for him. I can't tell you how he dealt with the prognosis. I can tell you he did lose hope, in the end. He accepted our fate, that it would be just us two, forever. Just us two isn't a bad thing mind you, but I didn't feel that way.

I can't really explain my feelings. I can try to put them into words, but all I can do is try to convey to you, that I always knew that I would have a baby. Maybe not 'his' baby (remember the sperm donor scenario?) but I knew we'd somehow have a baby. I knew it would not be adoption or foster care, it'd be a real, biological baby, and I hoped I'd not be Kate Plus 8! :-)

I just knew that in the end, there would be a baby. True, I'm way too cool NOT to pass my genes along...No, I'm not maternal, at all, we all know that...I'm all for that women's lib crap, women can be astronauts and not have babies if they don't want to, blah blah blah....I don't need a baby to feel complete....In fact, I don't need a baby, at all. I simply wanted one, I don't know why, I just know I wanted one. I wanted a boy too, just one. I always get what I want, in the end. I may not get it the way I intended, but I get what I want.

I wanted a house, I have a house. I wanted to go to Europe, I went to Europe. I wanted to get married, I got married. I wanted to go to college, I went to college....and lastly, I wanted a baby....I had a baby. My bucket list is complete, time to die now! LOL!

How many tears did I shed in the 2.5 years we struggled with infertility? Not one. How many days did I feel we should just give up? None. When did I realize it would just never happen? Not once. How often did I talk about this? Not very. People don't know what to say, and you don't like to mention it. It's a private, internal struggle and in the end, only you and your partner truly know what's going on.

To contradict myself, yes, I was shocked to discover I was pregnant. Mainly because we took that month off ;-) but even though I KNEW we'd have a baby, I was still in shock that we defied the odds, and overcame infertility. Not only did we overcome, but we bitch-slapped Nature in the face by doing it the old fashioned way, the "natural" way. It wasn't science or even luck, it was just what happened, it's what was supposed to happen.

Had I conceived the first time we tried in 2007, we'd not have William. If we could have afforded in-vitro, we'd not have William. Artificial insemination would not result in William either. I said it before, I'm thankful that it took us 2.5 years to conceive, had it been any other egg and any other sperm, we'd not have William. Even though I went 16 years of my life not wanting children, as weird as it sounds, I feel like I've been waiting for William my entire life, and this is the struggle Chris and I had to go through to get him...him and only him. It turns out, I didn't want a 'baby'....I wanted William, and like I said, I always get what I want.

11/13/10, Food Fight!

We thought perhaps it was time to start William on solid foods, well as it turns out, William didn't care for food much. We've never seen him make such a face. He didn't like the look of it, the feel of it, the smell of it or the taste of it. We put a tiny, itsy piece of banana on his tongue and he gagged, and then puked up a bunch of breast milk, and was pretty annoyed with us.
We tried avocado first but that just really irritated him. He was really disgusted with that. Since he refused to even open his mouth for it we switched to squashed banana and he didn’t want that either. We're doing baby-led-weaning, which means in a nutshell, the baby feeds himself what he chooses and when. You offer them 'real' food, like fruits and vegetables, and let them play with it and then they can choose to put it into their mouths themselves, or not. He did not do this. LOL...he played, kind of, but was instantly annoyed with the feel of the food. So I did go and try to put some in his mouth, which is when he said in no uncertain terms "NO"....so clearly he's not ready.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baby-led_weaning

I’m thinking his tongue-thrust reflex is still there, since he pushed the food right out. Most babies will enjoy banana, which he clearly didn't. Breast milk is very sweet so sweet veggies and fruits usually work well but he just didn't seem ready to me.

http://www.askdrsears.com/html/3/t032000.asp

I may try some organic brown rice cereal mixed with breast milk next week, just to see if he'll even put it in his mouth. I'm holding off on wheat for now, maybe another two months or so, it's a little harder on their digestive system and William has always had a pretty bad digestive system to begin with.
We got video of him refusing the food and making that awful face but it's taking a lifetime to upload, so I'll send it later when it's done. It's on Facebook right now though.
Enjoy the pictures!

My thoughts on labor...

(Exactly one week before William was born)

For the majority of my life, I never wanted kids. I had a million reasons, but one was fear of pregnancy, labor, and delivery. Well, it's safe to say I got this fear from my mother, who had a lot of morning sickness, had a normal labor but a horrific delivery. She even needed two transfusions. Well you hear that story your whole life and if you're a girl, then you more than likely never want to give birth, unless you are a moron.

So for reasons unknown to me, I changed my mind....about the baby thing, not about the birth thing. I did NOT want to pass a child through my....body...in any way. I'll admit it, I wanted a C-Section. Why? Well for one reason, nearly every single one of my friends had a C-Section, in fact, all of my best friends had C-Sections, so none of them could give me the nitty-gritty of pushing a child out through their....body....and the aftermath. Each time a friend of mine told me they ended up having a C-Section (all five of them) I thought to myself, "LUCKY! Watch me be the 'one' who gives birth vaginally." Of course knowing what I know now...my hat is OFF to all my C-Section friends! You're braver than I....major abdominal surgery does NOT sound fun at all!

So after hearing Mom's horror story over and over for years, and reading horror stories online regarding donuts and forceps and peri-bottles and vacuums and horrific pain for months afterwards, I decided that a C-Section was the way to go. I'll admit it, I was thrilled when my Dr told me around 6 weeks that my pelvis was small, and I'd have difficulty delivering a baby more than 8lbs. I said "Great!" Which shocked her. I said "Awesome, so...like a week before my due date you can give me a C-Section?" She said, "Well, if the baby is over 8 lbs, sure, I can, since your pelvis is so small, but it's not required should you want to try for a vaginal birth." I said "Oh no, a C-Section does not frighten me!" So she thought I was nuts, who cares.

One of my friends said her C-Sections were no big deal, the other said hers were awful, the rest said they weren't the greatest thing known to man, but not the worst either. Some of my friends endured long labors before ending up in the OR, some never felt a labor pain. No one could give me a good description of what labor felt like, other than Mom who said it's the worst pain in the world. But since I wasn't going to go into labor, it really didn't matter. I was also not going to find out the sex before hand, not going to breastfeed, and was NEVER going to co-sleep. ;-)

The sicker I got in my God-Awful pregnancy (http://sobe73.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-thoughts-on-pregnancy.html) the less I wanted to endure the unknowns of labor and delivery. Since the only person I knew well enough to ask about labor and delivery was my Mom, she's all I had to go by. Granted she was ASLEEP for the birth (Twilight sleep) but she remembered labor and the post-delivery very well. As my pregnancy got a little better and I began to feel like a human again, I remembered how much my gall-bladder surgery hurt, and how much more my lymph-node removal surgery hurt. Then I remembered, I freakin' HATE surgery! Why on Earth would I want to be tied down to a tiny table and have a kid ripped out of my abdomen? I'm highly allergic to General Anesthesia, what if I needed that in an emergency situation? What if I can feel them digging around my gut searching for the kid?

So....I changed my mind. I changed my mind about a lot of things. I decided to 'try' for a vaginal birth, with NO pain meds, yeah you heard me right, to attempt breastfeeding immediately following the birth, and to maybe even get a Douala. Well, of course, none of that happened either LOL, but my heart was in the right place.

I told people the story of my periods. I was blessed with the most horrific periods known to man. I never vomited from my menstrual cramps, but they were paralyzing, literally. Let me be clear, when I say paralyzing, I mean I could not walk, could not stand, could not sit...I was curled in a tight ball for days and days, unable to move or speak. No drug on Earth helped. Thankfully I only got 2-3 periods a year or else I'd flunked out of school and lost every job. My cramps are always in my back for some reason, like a knife being dug into my spine, non stop. I asked people if labor felt like really bad menstrual cramps and people would laugh and say "No, not really, labor is soooo much worse, way, way worse, like a million times worse..."

Well what can be worse than that? I remember one day at my last job I had these cramps from hell but I was able to walk if I was hunched all the way over. So I told everyone at work that I threw out my back since I couldn't stand up-right. That pain was really bad, if labor was a million times worse than it must be the single worst thing a human being could endure. YIKES!

I ended up taking the pill for nearly 10 years, it took a solid year of being on the pill for my periods to regulate and for the cramps to be tolerable. When I say tolerable, I meant if I took a bunch of Advil, I could walk really hunched over if I had to. After a year on the pill the cramps were....somewhat....tolerable. If I were really doped up I could get by with a slight hunch to my back. So, I figured I knew pain, and I knew really bad pain, but if labor was a million times worse than that, forget it!

Chris and I never really had the opportunity to discuss labor. He knew to probably massage my back but we never talked about our birth plan, or any plan. I told him I wanted to go drug free, and he of course laughed, as did everyone else....but I did tell him I wanted NO IV drugs. I hear they do nothing but make you stoned and I didn't want that.

Since I didn't want to give birth to a baby larger than 8 lbs, I always thought that a week before my due date of May 13th, or if he became too large prior to that, my Dr would induce me and then within 24 hours I'd have the baby. I could take the pain for 24 hours. 24 hours is not a huge deal. Besides, I'd probably deliver before 24 hours. Chris would be there with me, he and no one else and he'd rub my back if I needed it. I'd walk the halls with my IV of pitocin and maybe use the birthing ball. My Dr said I could give birth on my side if I wanted to, or even on all fours, anything but squatting since she had a really bad experience with that once.

I'd have my bag packed and we'd go to the hospital and two days later me and the baby would come home, and hopefully the only donuts in my house would be the edible kind. I told my Dr no episiotomy and she agreed that they were unnecessary. I loved my Dr and I wanted her to deliver me. I'd seen her weekly for nearly my entire pregnancy.

On Wednesday March 24th I saw my Dr and she did one final test to see if I'd go into labor early. I'd been in pre-term labor since about week 24 and dilated since week 29. She really, really wanted me to make it to week 33 for the baby's sake. On Wednesday she checked me, I was still dilated 1.5 centimeters and she did the fetal fibronectin test, I'd had five (http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/fetal-fibronectin/MY00128). The next day, I reached the coveted 33 weeks. The next day, March 26th at 11am...my water broke.

It came in a little squirt. Followed by another little squirt, followed by mild menstrual cramps. I was in denial. As was Chris, as was Mom. None of us wanted me to be in labor. Of course my Dr was on vacation that weekend and some other Dr in the practice saw me that day at noon. He said my fetal fibronectin came back negative and I was not in labor. He was wrong. I began to leak more and bleed. The fluid was clear and odorless that day but he sent me home, even with the cramps.

The cramps got worse and worse as the day progressed. It still didn't occur to me that I was in labor. I wasn't having a Taurus baby in March!!!! The pain was all in my back and by evening, the pain was very bad. I didn't want to see that same Dr again, so I suffered. Around 10pm the pain escalated. I had to have Chris massage my back in bed all night long. Around 1am I went to throw up, from the pain....I still didn't believe I was in labor. Maybe it was something else, anything else. Besides, the pain WAS menstrual cramps and everyone told me labor didn't feel like that.

At 10am on March 27th, 23 hours after the initial squirt and twinge of pain, a different Dr from my practice, a Dr I liked, said to get to the hospital ASAP. I called Chris at work and at 11am, we arrived at the hospital. As soon as I got into the gown and sat on the bed in triage, a huge gush of warm, greenish, icky water with big-little chunky things in it poured onto the bed. The Dr walked in and laughed, she said "Well no need to see if you're water is breaking or not, your water is clearly breaking."

Since I was barely 33 weeks, she wanted me to stay pregnant as long as possible. She hoped for one more week. But the more she talked, the more icky nasty stuff came pouring out and let me tell you, that stuff is gross. It's just so gross! It's not like the movies. The day before it was clear but this was like Jaba the Hut Snot, mixed with Jaba piss, shooting out all over my legs and the bed. They had me walk, oozing a trail of nasty Jaba-Juice, to my room in Labor and Delivery. I asked if they'd clean me up, they said sure, but never did. Eww!

It dawned on me at that moment that not only was I in labor, but I'd been in labor for 25 hours already. At noon, Chris left to get my bags and get my mother, and I was all alone. I never thought I'd have a baby nearly two months early. I never thought I'd go into spontaneous labor. Most of all, I never thought I'd labor alone in a room for nearly 90 minutes. It was a very long, very lonely, painful 90 minutes. My phone had bad reception so I couldn't even talk to anyone, but I could text.

There was no Doula, no nurse, no Chris, no one but me. It...sucked. The pain was bad but not horrific, but bad enough that I would have enjoyed a back massage. More and more water trickled out, spreading grossness all over me and the bed, while my back pain got stronger and stronger. My contractions had been non stop since 11am the day before and they weren't about to spread out then either. They were 1 minute apart the entire time, and it was 100% back labor, which people say is unbearable.

Finally Chris showed up. The Dr came in and offered me IV drugs, since I was only 2 centimeters and could not have an epidural. I said "NO" and she looked at me like I was insane, then she looked at Chris. Don't look at Chris, he's not in labor, I am and I said NO! She said "Are you sure?" I said, "Yes, I don't want to be loopy." I could tell she really thought I was insane but she pressed the subject no more. I rolled over on my right side, the only side I could lay on, and asked Chris to massage my lower back.

At 2pm, he left to do God knows what, and I began to throw up. I called the nurse and Mom got me a trash can, but the Nurse came in with a little bucket in the nick of time. I didn't know why I was throwing up. I'd not eaten in a day and I WAS in pain, however, it wasn't the worst pain known to man. Surely I wasn't in 'transition' already!

Finally Chris came back and I told him to rub my back. So long as he rubbed my back, the pain was tolerable. It dawned on me afterwards, that everything for the most part was perfect during my labor. Since I never told Chris my expectations of his role during labor (I intended to, but I went into labor before I ever could) but even though we never talked about, we just clicked! It's as if he read my mind...and my mind said "Leave me alone! Just rub my back and shut up!" LOL.

I was in 'the zone'. On my side, eyes shut, no Bradley breathing, no technique....I did not yell, I did not scream, I did not squeeze his hand, I did not cuss, I did not sweat! The pain was bad, too bad for me to talk, all I could do is grunt, and I only grunted when he stopped rubbing my back. He had the nerve to stop a few times. Don't sit here and tell me your hand hurts worse than my back! All I needed was silence....and a back rub. And for the most part, that's what I got.

Chris did not speak to me while I was in labor.

Mom did not speak to me while I was in labor.

The Nurse never came in, so she didn't speak to me.

It's exactly what I needed. I don't remember thinking. I was not scared. I wasn't thinking of the baby, or his prematurity or the prospect of giving birth, all I was thinking was "Keep rubbing my back or I will murder you very slowly and...crap, that contraction JUST ended and now it's starting up again?"

At 7pm, 32 hours into labor, I got tired and...cranky. I thought I was still probably 2 centimeters and unable to get an epidural. The ONLY reason I wanted one was due to my fatigue. I was so tired. I'd not slept since Thursday night, it was now Saturday night. How would I have the energy to push out a child if I was that exhausted? What if I had another 32 hours of this ahead of me? I hadn't eaten or had a thing to drink since Thursday, and I feared the pain would worsen. To that point, the pain was as bad as the worst menstrual cramps I'd ever had (thank you very much! To all you ninnies who said labor wasn't like a period, you're so wrong! LOL). But what if the pain got worse? I didn't want to suffer another 24+ hours like that, and since they were to keep me pregnant as long as possible, it could easily be another 24 hours. So I asked for the epidural.

With my scoliosis I was uncertain the epidural would even take, but, it did! It wasn't bad at all. I feared the side effects, epidural migraines, back pain, or it not working, or, working and then wearing off in time for labor. None of that happened. I got the epidural, it kicked in nicely. The nurse examined me to find I was 6.5 centimeters! I'd gone that long with no drugs! I was impressed with myself. LOL.

I then fell asleep, for what seemed like a minute. Then I hear this voice, of a nurse I'd never met, saying, "Wake up, it's time to push." I guess she checked me while I was still sleeping. I said "No, I'm tired! What time is it?" It's 9pm! Only 2 hours, I went from 6.5 to 10 centimeters. I felt NOTHING, nada, dead-numb. My Dr was delivering a baby next door so we were in no hurry. They took their time getting the bed ready and lifting my legs, since they were so numb I couldn't move them.

I was not scared. I thought I'd be terrified at this point but I wasn't. I wasn't thinking about forceps or pushing for three hours, or possible pain, or the premature baby, all I could think about was McDonalds as sad as that sounds. I just knew, in my heart, that William would be okay. I'm not sure how I knew, but I knew. There were several Drs in the room, and nurses, waiting for William. Mom was on the couch and Chris was up next to the Dr who arrived in the room around 9:05PM.

So, I had no one holding my hand, no one nearby. Chris was next to the Dr for some reason and I was totally numb but I'd seen enough tv shows to know 'how' to push, so I tried my best to push the right way. Apparently the right way was my way, the first push was a success. Having asthma means holding my breath and pushing with all my might is not something normally advisable. I began to almost black out three pushes in, I remember telling the Dr to 'give me a second' and she looked at me again like I was crazy. They gave me an oxygen mask and I took a 10 second break, then I pushed. She said "One more" and I said "The head is out?" She said "Oh yeah, it's been out."

Okay! LOL! I pushed and...she lied! LOL! She said "Oh, well, one more..." so I gave her one more...next thing I know she's holding this tiny baby in her arms....a tiny, bloodless, non-icky, full head of hair baby PEEING on her! Yeah, that's my first sight at my son....him peeing on the Dr. I said "He's so tiny." It was 9:11PM on Saturday, March 27, 2010.

Not that he was. He was 5 lb 6 oz and 19 inches long, HUGE for his age, but let's face it, most babies are 8+ lbs these days, he looked tiny to me. He was taken away of course and I just laid there...alone. I heard no cries. He did not cry. He did not breathe. He didn't breathe for four minutes. After four minutes, he 'grunted' a few little high pitched grunts, but never a cry. They wrapped him and handed him to me for an entire 10 seconds. Chris said "he has black eyes!" and I thought about Severus Snape instantly. His eyes were in fact, deep blue. He stared right into my eyes for a few seconds. It was a very powerful moment. It's like he knew me. I smiled for the camera and then he was gone.

For some reason it took four more hours for me to get my McDonalds. I felt great afterwards though. I was starving...and bored!

I pushed for maybe four minutes or less. I pushed less than 10 times, somewhere between 6 and 8, no one is sure. I was fine. Labor was fine. Delivery was fine. In fact, it was simple. Considering I had a God awful pregnancy and two and a half torturous years of trying to conceive AND a very, very medium rare premature baby, my labor and delivery were simple, easy and went off without a hitch. Sure it was 34 hours of labor, 32 of it un-medicated, but it was a piece of cake!

I had no external stitches, never needed a peri bottle or stool softeners, I could walk, I could sit, never needed a donut, all in all my recovery was pretty good, not perfect, but pretty good. Running around a NICU and entertaining out of town guests is not the best thing to do after giving birth, hence the weeks of heavy, heavy, heavy bleeding, but overall, I was fine. I didn't need the C-Section. I gave birth the old fashioned way, and I was great at it! Sure, if he'd been 10 lbs things would probably have been different but he wasn't. I'm thankful that after 7 hellish months, I was able to give birth with relative ease.

Another blog about preemies and NICU's is yet to come. This was about labor and delivery. And if anyone ever asks me, I'll tell them my truth "It's not the most painful thing in the world, it's like a horrible period, and you'll be just fine afterwards." All I have is my own experience to go by of course.

Me...seconds after giving birth.

Open faced Pot-Roast sandwiches with homemade gravy...simple!

So it's only my second pot roast ever but it's already becoming a family tradition here at the Storm house. This is so simple! The prep time is maybe 15 minutes total.

Ingredients

2-3 lb chuck roast

1 medium yellow onion

carrots (I use the little ones in the bag that are already peeled, about 1/2 a cup worth)

5 garlic cloves, whole, skins on

2 cups of beef stock (Again, just eyeball it, use as much as you think you'll want for gravy, remembering the veggies and the meat will add to the liquid as well)

1 loaf of French bread

Salt, pepper, onion and garlic powder to taste

(Optional, 1/4 cup of plain tomato sauce)

Roux

Flour (I eyeball it, about....2 tbsp)

Butter (again, eyeball...around 1/4th a stick)

Preheat oven to 300

To the dutch oven or roasting pan, add the beef stock, garlic, carrots, and the onion (peel and quarter the onion) [Add the optional tomato sauce]

Season the roast with the salt, pepper, onion and garlic powders and seer in canola or olive oil on high heat for about 1 minute per side. Remove to the dutch oven, or roasting pan.

Put the lid on the pan and place in the oven for 1 hour, 40 minutes for about 2 lbs, or 2 hours for 3 lbs. How long you cook is up to you, depending on how well done you want the meat. Use a meat thermometer after 90 minutes.

Remove from the oven and let the meat sit for 20 minutes. Drain the juices and veggies through a calendar that's placed over a large bowl. Discard the veggies if you are me, or eat them if you are normal like everyone else.

For the roux, add the butter to a sauce pan on medium high heat, once it starts to melt, add in the flour and instantly begin to whisk until the mixture is thick and has no lumps. Lower the heat to medium and continue to whisk for about 1 minute. Slowly add the pan drippings into the roux and continue to whisk. Once all the juice is incorporated, raise the heat to medium-high and wait for the gravy to bubble. Once it bubbles, turn off the heat.

Cut the French Bread into 2 inch thick slices and drown the bread in the gravy. Then top with slices of the roast beef, then drown them in gravy. Then enjoy!

The weeks in review, thru Oct 12, 2010

Well let's begin with some fun shall we? He is like a little vampire, with his two new 'fangs'...he chomps everything, chew toys, paci's, stuffed animals, ME! OUCH! Thankfully he's not bitten while nursing since Saturday so that's a HUGE relief!

Look at his face on this picture! He really loves to chomp and bite down. He still has the two bottom teeth but it looks like some uppers are cutting through shortly. The weather is slowly changing, so it's time to get out his 'fall' gear, thankfully The Children's Place had an awesome sale on hats and long sleeved shirts for the wee-one.

Okay, Bama lost royally last weekend but William and I are not fair weather fans, we still Roll with the Tide and watch the Bama games whenever they are televised. He enjoys playing and trying to crawl during the commercials. ;-)

Last week he went to the park to play for the first time. Yeah, he's too young to enjoy, but we put him in the swing and helped him down the slide, may as well while the weather is still warm. We then walked a few miles on the wooded trail and had a nice picnic on the river.

He can't really sit up unassisted yet but he did manage to for about 4-5 seconds the other day, long enough for me to capture a picture. We're not too concerned about his lack of sitting, he just discovered his feet after all.

He plays with his feet now all the time and learned how to use them to move things, like the parrot in his bouncy seat here...

He was taught and learned quickly, to not only remove toys from a basket, but to bang them together to make a cool sound. The therapist showed him once and he caught on and instantly repeated. Now he does it all the time!

The rings still interest him but he can remove them all from the base in about 2 seconds now....He also opens his hands and grabs at EVERYTHING now, my hair (which he won't let go of) Chris's or anyone's glasses really, the dogs!

He likes to play with his new toy laptop but he tends to push it away from himself, which just irritates him more...

It's safe to say his eyes are GREEN now....who knows if they'll remain so.

I LOVE THIS PICTURE! He's soooo happy! He discovered his feet! He loves this new pose, it's great because it strengthens his abdominal muscles, which will aid him in sitting soon. I call it the Cannon-Ball!

He tries soooo hard to crawl. All he does is cry and whine and do the occasional "Inch Worm" crawl. He did do "one" real crawl a few weeks back, but now he mostly inch-worms around....

Ahh...he can pick up this awesome toy from Debbie now. He loves it, always has, but now he can hold it! He likes to play a lot more now, often alone, which is sad, but nice at the same time. We still co-sleep, still breastfeed, no solids yet, and I had to adjust the straps on his car seat this week too.

He also met his 'honorary' great grand mother, Rosie, in from Kentucky last week. Donna and Debbie drove down with her to pay us a little visit...Mema would be pleased. ;-)

Pity Party, baby piranha and other ouches...

So, since I'm falling apart, why not fall apart some more? I've had the fibro for about 7 years now and it sucks. It's better since pregnancy but everyday it gets worse and worse again, before long, it'll be back 100%. Well I've learned to live with it, even though it's a life sentence without parole.

This new arthritis however, I'm not dealing with as well . It started about 18 months ago in one finger. Just one....the finger is lumpy and often stiff. For some reason when I got pregnant, the finger stopped bothering me so much. Then about three months ago, wham! All ten fingers, wrists, ankles, back, neck and worst of all...knees. My back and neck are always bad, but the hands, ankles and knees are new to me.

Every morning they are stiff and inflamed. If I stay still for too long, 30 minutes or so, they get stiff, sore and swollen again. It doesn't hurt all day but it does hurt every day, especially at night. I guess I'm mad because it's new to me. Fibro is head to toe pain, muscle pain, but osteoarthritis is joint pain....and it sucks.

I prefer to sleep on my side in the fetal position. I can no longer do this because I can't bend my knees at night. I'm only 36. I used to be able to just get out of bed to use the bathroom with ease....not anymore. I can hardly get out of bed because my knees and ankles are so stiff and sore....and I'm only 36. I have the bladder of a gnat, so I go to the bathroom all the time....which is a hassle in itself...now, it hurts so bad to lower myself using my knees, and raise myself using my knees, I dread going to the bathroom and I'm only 36! 36, not 96!

What annoys me so much is, I plan to live to be 100, but arthritis gets worse, not better. I don't want to live to be 100 if this is how I have to live, knowing it's just going to get worse. If I have to have a raised toilet now at 36, what will life be like in 20 or 30 years? If I need help getting up off the couch now, can you imagine me at 46? Oh I can't wait for menopause! That'll be fun...let's add some osteoporosis into the mix.

I'm mad and throwing a pity party because the anti-inflammatory my Dr prescribed doesn't do a darn thing. Nada. I was hoping it would ease the pain....some. Nope. Maybe it's a placebo. :-)

I'm pissed because I'm a young woman with a newborn baby, who can hardly get into and out of bed, off the couch, onto the toilet, off the toilet and can barely make it up the three stairs I have outside of my house. Exercise is good for arthritis. I walked about 1-2 miles a day several times this week. Yesterday I walked about 3 miles, half of which was uphill, while pushing a stroller. My knees still hurt so bad, I couldn't sleep on my side last night.

I'm 36! 36 and one of the things I love to do, and one of the very few things I'm good at, is typing and writing. I can hardly type because my fingers are so sore and stiff and swollen...all the time. Mind you, it's dry and hot out! Just wait until a damp winter's day! I've not had this arthritis in winter yet. I guess if I'm bitching now I should appreciate how good I have it in the warm weather.

I no longer need a meteorologist anymore. It's one of the good things about arthritis. I KNOW when it's gonna rain....and there's no rain in the forecast this week....and I'm still in pain. But, it gets way worse when rain is coming.

I don't like the desert. In fact, I detest the desert. I don't want to live in a desert. I have NO desire to reside in the desert SW. I need green, and trees, and flowers and hills. In order to have green, one needs a decent amount of rain. But rain hurts. Ugh...I don't like the desert. I don't want to live in one of the Emirates. Greece is kind of nice though....some green, still pretty dry, not too chilly. I digress, I'm not moving to Greece. I do like me some Greek food though ;-)

So, no cold, no humidity, no rain....NO FUN! Okay, San Diego here I come! All we need now is a job that pays $300,000 a year and $100,000 down payment on a tiny hacienda and we're set! So since that's never gonna happen....I guess I can live in........Deming New Mexico....it's a nothing town on the Mexican border that can't have a very high cost of living.

Okay no, that's not happening either. It's Ohio or Alabama for us, both are green, both wet, both humid, one cold, one chilly....so I better get used to the pain. Besides, it's hot and dry this week and I still hurt, so I see no reason to live in a Pueblo in Deming New Mexico. Plus, I hate chili peppers and the smell makes me die...literally (allergic).

I guess Seattle would be a death sentence. Okay, so the next 65 years will be lived in pain....a ranch house for certain...a raised toilet with a handicapped bar next to it....and sleeping on my back I suppose....of course my back and neck have arthritis too...so....how about, no sleep! Which is what I get now.

Which brings me to ouch number 2, my baby piranha. He's adorable and on one hand, it's cool he has two razor sharp teeth on the bottom...on the other hand, I'd been perfectly happy if he'd waited another six months to cut them. Those teeth are sharper than a knife and he's super strong. He's always bit me. He'd gum bite me while nursing....and yes, that hurts. Now, add two uber sharp teeth into the mix.

At first we were fine. I mean, they are called "Milk Teeth" by many people. You're supposed to still breastfeed with these new teeth with no problem. Then about four days ago...CHOMP! He took a bite out of crime....and out of me! I reacted poorly. I screamed and yanked him off me so fast I startled him. I couldn't help it. I wasn't prepared. He'd never bitten me with his teeth before and I thought he never would. I calmed down, put him back on and CHOMP again! Um...no. I shoved a bottle in his mouth immediatly and watched on as he chomped and bit the bottle nipple too! Then I put my finger in his mouth, CHOMP. What can I say, he bites.

I took it in stride. That night in bed, as always, when he got fussy, I rolled onto my side, with my bad knees, and gave him the boob....and what did he do? If you guessed CHOMP then you guessed correct. OUCH! Screamed again! It was dark so I couldn't see and I just gave up and made him a bottle. The next night....same thing.

I was very upset. The whole point of co-sleeping is to nurse him at night with ease, and NO pain! I mean, didn't we suffer through tongue-tie, and thrush, and a nursing strike and now....teeth? What next? Well nothing, we've been through it all! Me getting up to make a bottle and then feed him and burp him and all that makes falling back to sleep for me nearly impossible. On top of it, he was having a growth spurt, so for the first time in over three months, he needed TWO bottles in the middle of the night....then he woke up very early in the morning for a third. After not nursing at night, I needed to pump first thing in the morning...I don't have time to make bottles and bottle feed when I am bursting and need to pump! LOL! Thank goodness Chris was off to help.

I don't like bottle feeding them and then pumping. I've done this for months, through the tongue-tie and nursing strike. It's time consuming and annoying. Breastfeeding is simple. No bottles to wash! No pumps to clean. No formula to buy and store and measure. Yes, he benefits from my pumped milk, which I still don't make enough of for him, not during a spurt. So I will continue, but now I'm doing more work.

At times it seems simpler to just give the pump back and bottle him. But that's not good for him and it's not good for me. If I made it through a NICU and thrush and nipple confusion and hickeys and tongue-tie and strikes....I can make it through teeth....but ouch.

I admit, I'm terrified to nurse him now. I don't like pain, in case you haven't noticed. The last three nights, I suffered through the night with big old hard leaking boobs, bottles in the bedroom and a child who won't sleep as well (he sleeps better with me as his paci at night and when he sleeps....I sleep...it's a win-win situation).

My consultant said to lay off the night nursing for 'now' until I retrain his latch. It's too hard laying down, in the dark, to teach him how to nurse with teeth....and she's right. The hard part is getting the courage to face the mouth of a piranha again.

I'm happy to report, since I began writing this blog hours ago, I did successfully nurse him, in the daylight, and he didn't bite me once! I was so fearful he would. He ate and then fell asleep on me, just like good old times. I was afraid he'd bite me in his sleep (he's recently began having nightmares) but he didn't. In fact, he just 'let go' and slept for about another 45 minutes.

One reason he bit me the other night was, he had bad gas. He was in pain and he bit down on me from the pain. I need to stop that now. I give him paci's at night, but he needs to feed from me at night so I can stop the nighttime bottles once and for all.

Okay, I'm done....for now....let's hope he keeps his teeth to himself!

The Week in review, Sept 3rd through Sept 20, 2010

Wow...where to begin.

May be easier to just list the things that occurred.

Well, seen here in the video below, he grabbed my camera...and then licked it. :-)

He learned how to open his hands to grab/grasp for things. He grabs at everything he can, especially things that light up.

He gave me another hickey.

The nursing strike has ended!

He met his paternal grandparents, and his Aunt and cousin.

He met his third cousins, aka his godparents.

He finally got a pair of bitching sun glasses.

He stands, assisted, all the time.

He pulls for Chris's goat-tee all the time and yanks his glasses off.

He rolls and rolls and rolls....over and over and over, and cries when furniture gets in his way.

Everything he comes into contact with goes into his mouth.

He actively tries to grab for his bottle and hold it, even though he really can't do it well. When I take it away, he stares at it and cries, and reaches for it.

We can see and feel two bottom teeth on the verge of cutting through. We're giving him Hyland's Teething Tablets and he loves them. When he sees the tablet in my hand, he calms down and opens his mouth for me to insert!

He crawled! Well it was 'one' crawl, then he gave up and rolled the rest of the way.

He got a Bumbo but he's too young and weak for it. He can tolerate maybe 5 minutes a day in it, then he slouches over. But it's good practice and he'll enjoy it more later.

He saw his Dr a week ago, he weighed in at 12 lb 13 oz and is 26 inches long. He's in the 75% percentile in length, which is above average (For a 4 month old, not a 6 month old) but still in the 3rd percentile for weight for his real age, not adjusted. I'm sure he's 13 lb by now. He sees the Dr again in a week for vaccinations.

He uses the "big boy" stroller now, don't really put the car seat in the stroller anymore, it's too heavy for me to lift.

He kind of had a little cold, but not really. He never got a fever, but he had a cough and some sneezes. He felt kind of cruddy and napped on me for over 6 hours on Saturday, poor little sweet boy. He was a trooper though, he never really cried about it. LOL.

His hair is growing back like a weed! And it's BLOND, almost white in the sun! And, as of this week, his eyes are green!

He smiles all the time and laughs at least twice a day. He also reaches for the dogs, who now, kind of are interested in him.

He does his own tummy time, by rolling over and staying on his tummy for up to 10 minutes, lifting his head the entire time.

We noticed that when he's concentrating hard on something....he sticks his bottom lip out, and grunts. LOL...it's too funny. He did this when he discovered his feet over the weekend!

He snores....

He took his first shower! (Duh....not alone! LOL!)

Last but not least, he was baptized last weekend at St. Mary's Catholic Church in Franklin, Ohio. We had 26 carbon based life forms in our 1,000 sq ft house for the after-party. He did great during the ceremony, stared into the Priest's eyes and seemed mesmerized. He did great with the water dunk and the oil anointing, but cried when the oil seeped into his eyes.

Next week, my darling angel will be six months old....yikes!

Here the poor boy has a 'panty' on his head...

Bumbo!

What baby has quadriceps?

Farmer Willie!

Poor teething boy...

Haufbrauhaus with Grand-Pappy!

Skyline of Cincinnati, on the Ohio River

Hey there Grammy!

New blanket from his Great Aunt Hazel

Standing proud!

Feet? What are feet? Are they mine?

I'm too cool for words...

I love this book! To teethe on!

Wow....a pooch!

Cool satin Baptism Bib from Grandma!

My buddy Corinne

Me and Cal! He's still bigger than me!

Did NOT like the oil in his eye!

Dip!

Don and Cheryl, the godparents from PA

Grammy, Aunt Shanan and Cousin Raine

Homemade Red Velvet Cheesecake being cut, and dark chocolate cake with homemade butter cream.

Pat and Rich drove in from PA

The Storm Men