tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81240284495832371222024-02-08T08:19:05.679-08:00Mom and SodapopTrying to be a good lesbian Mom...but first I have to become a MomSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-66326713639906509042011-05-09T20:53:00.001-07:002011-05-09T21:08:03.107-07:00The Questions BeginI originally wanted this blog to be being a lesbian mom. But then, Sunshine was born the "Mom" part took over and there didn't seem to be much to say. It's been two years of diapers, milestones, exhaustion, cute stories. I haven't had to think too much about being part of a queer family.<br /><br />So, now Sunshine is 2.8.<br /><br />Tonight, lovely partner walks in and tells me that for the first time (that we know of) Sunshine said "I have Daddy?" Lovely told her"No, you don't have a Daddy...You have Momma, Mommy, Grandma, Papa...etc" and Sunshine kept naming other family members.<br /><br />I felt like I was kicked in the stomach. I knew of course, these questions would come. But I didn't know it would be so soon. I didn't know I would feel so bad. I just hate the thought of her feeling any pain, at all. Or that there is something wrong with her or her family.<br /><br />It used to feel more abstract and hypothetical. I read all the books about donor kids and explaining it to them, blah blah blah.<br /><br />I thought I had planned for this, but I feel like I have no idea what to do with how I feel.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-71140736667664075752010-05-18T19:14:00.000-07:002010-05-18T19:19:21.451-07:00Papa Can You Hear Me?Sunshine, 19 months, has learned the word "Papa." She started calling her Grandpa "Papa" and we all thought it was sweet.<br /><br />However, we discovered that she thinks men in general are "Papa."<br /><br />Cue to Sunshine on the train in her stroller agressively pointing to strange men yelling "PAPA!! PAPPA!"<br /><br />Fellow passengers found it hillarious.<br /><br />Imagine if they knew the story of her conception!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-23110695571536404192009-10-01T11:20:00.000-07:002009-10-01T11:33:40.060-07:00Who's First?I finally wrote the sperm bank and asked them if any families who used Sunshine's donor were registered with their contact list. We weren't going register, just yet. Even though we plan to, really want to, especially when Sunshine is young. We just want to know if others are on the list. I've been putting it off because the year was already overwhelming. I think I will feel attached to those kids. Will I? I think about them, I know they exist. I think about the donor, with a combination of 90% gratitude and 10% curiosity.<br /><br />I thought that contacting people on the family list would be nice...a few emails, pictures, etc. I had a vision of nice lesbians families who we could visit with Sunshine, drama free. In my mind, these families all live in warm weather states. Since Sunshine will have always known about these kids, she might feel less of a loss about her biological roots (maybe? right?) and she would know more AI kids, more queer families. <br /><br />So, I thought, hey, I will just check out to see if anyone else is registered and then we can decide from there.<br /><br />The sperm bank people (best customer service of any place I have ever encountered) wrote back a nice response right away. No one is registered yet.<br /><br />I felt surprisingly (a little) sad. I wonder when/if we will meet any of these families.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-38351961100354907002009-10-01T11:07:00.000-07:002009-10-01T11:19:23.199-07:00Home WorkSunday, Sunshine turned one. I work at home on Thursday. This means that right now I have my work email open and I check voicemail constantly. I try to get things done, and I try to be more efficient the days I am in the office. I let close-to-walking Sunshine destroy my house and then at 3 p.m. (naptime!) I put it back together again. Right now she is playing with tupperware and greeting cards. A moment ago she was playing with the dogs water bowl (yuck!) and cans of seltzer water. The child is obsessed with opening drawers<br /><br />This post interupted because Sunshine stole the mouse. She loves the mouse with its flashing light and obvious importance to me. Only the keyboard is better in her mind.<br /><br />Ok, boss, I will try to work on the report as soon as I can grab dasjildsjakdsalkj;dd<br /><br />Sigh. Happy Birthday, Kid. You eruioriuoewjsadkl;aj.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-7591311533550460282009-07-14T08:03:00.000-07:002009-07-14T11:45:36.850-07:00Summer SummaryThanks everybody who filled out or passed on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">LambdaLegal</span> survey! And who asked how I was doing!I'm doing good, just not doing good at finding time for blogging.<br /><br />My Sunshine is doing great. She is a cheerful little one, who often delights us with her expressions of sheer joy. She is a very big 9 month old baby who crawls and stands and eats solids. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">How'd</span> that happen?! She doesn't talk much or say a lot of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">consonants</span> (how much should I worry about those milestone charts?) but loves to interact. She does not sleep through the night, not even close. She wakes up several times just distraught. Not like "I want milk, I want comfort" but like.....distraught. Its so upsetting. And then each morning, she smiles and plays with her toys while we stumble around looking for caffeine.<br /><br />Lovely partner is on maternity leave this summer and she loves that. She is shocked at how much fun she is having and how little she cares about missing work. Yesterday she told me she might want to be a housewife after all. (Okay, so that is two of us now, please send <winning>lotto tickets) Her maternity leave also greatly simplifies our general household stress level.<br /><br />We had fun at Pride with Sunshine. We have a Lesbian Moms group. I think about being a lesbian about 90% less time then I think about being a Mom, though I see the way our queerness shapes many aspects of our parenting lives. Where we live, who we want to spend time with, how we worry. We frequently get asked all those questions lesbian moms talk about "What do you call yourselves?" (Who is Mommy vs. Momma etc) We get many questions about the donor's ethnicity and especially his size. It is not too big a problem right now. I know it will be harder as Sunshine starts to learn about homophobia. That is the part I hate.<br /><br />Here's some things that would have been helpful for me to know earlier:<br /><br />*Having a newborn is NOT what having a baby is like. It is what having a newborn is like. Knowing this would've saved me a lot of panic!<br /><br />*It would've been helpful to know Sunshine earlier-ha! Then I think I would've handled newborn stress better. It was HER! Not some screaming ball of need.<br /><br />*The damage that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">TTC</span> can cause on a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">relationship</span> between partners is not necessarily solved once the baby arrives. I neglected my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">relationship</span> because of my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">TTC</span> obsession. That decision has costs. Now I've got a lot of restoration work to do.<br /><br />*Babies need to be a certain age/size before using booster seats in bistros. Request highchair. (You don't want to know how I learned this, except I will say I never felt like a worse Mom)<br /><br />*Summer is better then winter. Okay, I ALWAYS knew that but life is such AMAZINGLY easier when you don't have to bundle a baby before you go outside.<br /><br />Best wishes for a happy summer, everyone!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-48757773761043959412009-07-07T18:07:00.000-07:002009-07-07T18:10:33.935-07:00Survey on Unfair Health Care for LGBT folksIf you, like me, were told you couldn't get fertility treatment because you weren't heterosexual, please take this survey and let LambdaLegal know. Towards the end of the survey they ask this specific question. <br /><br />I really want this issue to be picked up by a national advocacy organization and Lambda Legal does amazing work.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.lambdalegal.org/take-action/partners-for-health-care-fairness/lgbt-and-hiv-health-care-fairness-survey.html">http://www.lambdalegal.org/take-action/partners-for-health-care-fairness/lgbt-and-hiv-health-care-fairness-survey.html</a><br /><br />I don't think I have readers left, but on the off chance one of you sees this and can pass it on....<br /><br />:) SarahSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-84981397755175294652009-03-21T10:42:00.000-07:002009-03-21T12:05:08.633-07:00Other MothernessYesterday I told my Lovely Partner that the babysitter said Sunshine likes to go to sleep with her hand around the babysitter's finger. I told the story in a "Isn't our baby the sweetest thing ever?" way.<br /><br />Lovely said "She does that to Babysitter too?"<br /><br />I nodded.<br /><br />Lovely looked sad and said "Sunshine thinks of you as her family, but I'm just one of the other favorite babysitters."<br /><br />And then I felt sad for Lovely, even though I don't think it is true. And if it IS true now, I am sure it will change.<br /><br />In a not unrelated note, Lovely tells me about once a week how pissed she is at Re.becca Walker.<br /><br /><a href="http://feministlawprofs.law.sc.edu/?p=3579">http://feministlawprofs.law.sc.edu/?p=3579</a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-81840666672638640202009-03-16T17:35:00.000-07:002009-03-16T18:01:34.511-07:00Our Life In a Series of Bullet PointsI did actually want to be a blogger. I enjoy it. It helps me sort out things. It is sort of like a memory book for me. But I haven't been able to find the energy. But, I'm keeping it-- going into dreaded bullet points.<br /><br />*Sunshine is doing great. She is almost 6 months old (?!?). She is a happy smiley baby. If anyone reading this has a persistently screaming infant, take heart. It really can get so much better at 3.5 months.<br /><br />*My boss came to me and said I can work at home one day a week for a while to spend more time with my baby. I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unbelievably</span> lucky. However, it has been a lot harder to work at home then I thought. Especially during the Nap Strikes! This baby really has a great future as a Union Organizer, I think.<br /><br />*Before Sunshine was born, I used to think about being a queer family all the time. Now, I don't feel like I have had time to think. However, one day at work I unexpectedly encountered homophobia and it threw me off. The most disturbing thing was how matter-of-fact about it everyone was. I went to bed, worried about the day my innocent joyful looking daughter would feel pain at being in a stigmatized group.<br /><br />*I did something stupid which <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">could've</span>, but didn't, lead to Sunshine being injured. It was the worst feeling.: A combination of fear, empathy for her pain, and feeling like the biggest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">dumbass</span> in the world. Even though I was pretty sure she was fine, I took her to the doctor. The doctor gave me a hug and said "Don't beat yourself up, this happens to 98.7% of all babies." I think he was probably making that statistic up, but I really appreciated his reassurance and his hug. Thank you Compassionate Pediatrician!<br /><br />*Sunshine is an enormous baby. I am not sure how this happened. I'm not small but the donor was not huge, either. I have not personally met anyone with a larger baby (22 lbs at 5.5 months). She has outgrown all her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">fuzzibunz</span>, her infant car seat, her swing, bouncing chair, and almost all her 88 outfits we received at our baby shower.<br /><br />*People have asked if having a baby changed the relationship between Lovely Partner and me. Yes. We have a common purpose and (usually) great teamwork, but its hard to have time for our relationship. We went out one night and had the grandest time! Other times, our conversations are all logistical--who needs to do what for the baby to be clothed, fed, dry, happy. In the morning, we are a parody of the "rushed parents getting ready for work" scenes in movies. At night, we have a series of Would You Rather conversations that go like this: Would you rather walk the dog/play with the baby/do the laundry OR give the baby a bath/ get the bottles ready for tomorrow/clean the dishes? To paraphrase Before Sunset, it sometimes feels like we are running a daycare together. So, I miss us sometimes.<br /><br />*In general, I find the hardest thing about motherhood is not having enough time (or energy) for my other loved ones. See above. This includes any social gathering that Sunshine is at, when I have trouble giving my full attention to conversation. I feel rude constantly. This is especially hard because so many of people are out of town, we don't get to see everybody as much as we would like anyway.<br /><br />*Since Sunshine was born, I have trouble watching movies or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">tv</span> shows where anything bad happens to any person. So that eliminates a lot of movies/shows. Am I doomed to only watching romantic comedies for the rest of my life?<br /><br />*I think about 55% of the stress of parenthood could be mitigated by more money. Maybe I am wrong. But if we could afford to have one of us stay home or pay someone to do more of our household tasks that would be huge. I also feel that if we won the lotto, we would try to have a sibling for Sunshine right away.<br /><br />*I did, in fact, do the new motherhood cliche of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">accidentally</span> wearing my shirt inside out to work.<br /><br />*Sunshine's favorite toy is the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">webcam</span>. I'm not kidding. She loves to see videos of her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Grandmama</span> but even more than that she loves to watch videos starring herself. She thinks she is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">supercute</span>, and I agree.<br /><br />*I still read yer blogs!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-67429865488741491352009-01-22T16:58:00.001-08:002009-03-21T21:06:50.227-07:00If You Have Cable...Look for my Mom and Dad as extras in Pray.ers for Bo.bby on Life..time this Saturday. It stars Sigourney Weaver as a religious homophobic mom who learns her son is gay and becomes an gay rights activist. My parents are non-speaking extras who play, apparently, members of an LGBT Friendly Church at a Pride Parade. Wonderful casting, I think. They were so excited to be in this movie along with gay activists and PFLAG types. They've come a long way since I came out over 10 years ago.<br /><br />My Mom said "Sarah , I have to ask you more about what a real pride parade is like!" I told her she ought to come see Sunshine, Lovely, and I in the parade this June!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-14092228858354996372009-01-16T17:24:00.001-08:002009-01-16T18:03:44.397-08:00How My Lovely Partner Ended Up On the Crib MattressSunshine used to be an excellent sleeper. As a newborn she slept in four hour stretches at night and we woke her to feed her. Gradually she slept more and more until she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">regularly</span> slept 7-9 hour stretches by 2 months. We knew we were lucky. I didn't want to focus on comparing her to other babies, but I was a little proud when other parents were amazed. I told people "In the Baby Olympics, sleep is her best event." I took her sleep habits as validation of our co-sleeping/attachment-parenting leaning ways. Her crib stood unused in the room down the hall.<br /><br />And then, all the sudden, she hit a slump. It happened pretty much went I went back to work. First she slept in two hour stretches. We thought she must have had a stomachache or something like that. But she seemed fine. She would wake up and nurse and then fall back asleep. I thought it might be "reverse cycling" to make up for the time I was away at work. But she didn't seem <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">particularly</span> hungry when she nursed. Then she slept in one hour <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">stretches</span>. Then it was forty-five minutes stretches. During the day, she was still mostly cheerful and alert, but I can't say the same for me and my Lovely Partner. One morning, Lovely expressed her outrage at People: "When People say that it gets easier after three months, they LIE!"<br /><br />However, worse then being up all night was worrying something was wrong. I thought maybe she was traumatized because I went back to work. Or that she hit some developmental block.<br /><br />So I got on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">internet</span> and researched, as I am wont to do. I found out there is another thing called "Four Month Sleep Regression" where a good sleeping baby just stops sleeping well at about four months. Who knew? (Maybe <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ya'll</span> did) In any case, from my reading we are just supposed to stick it out. So I attempted to calm down and keep on...mothering. We tried to think of things to help her (and us) sleep.<br /><br />One problem is that she, my very big baby, outgrew her co-sleeper. And when she sleeps on the bed with us, she doesn't seem to have enough room either. She flails and hits us and wakes herself (and us) up. We thought we could move her crib into our bedroom. We would drop down the bar a little and keep her close to the bed. Unfortunately, we forgot the rule guiding our life which is "If we purchase something big, it will not work for us in some way." The crib, built in the nursery, was too big to go through the door. We decided to take it apart and rebuild this weekend. In the meantime we thougt we would just put the crib mattress on the floor next to our bed and see how that works.<br /><br />So the other night I walk into our bedroom and see Lovely crashed asleep in our bed and Sunshine happily laying on the mattress on the floor, looking up at me smiling. I realized this would not work either because she moves too much and would fall off the mattress.<br /><br />So Lovely suggested that for the time being, the baby and I should sleep on our queen size bed, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">where I can nurse her when needed throughout the night. Lovely decided </span>she could sleep on the baby's crib mattress next to our bed. I should point out that while Lovely is not tall, she is much taller then your average crib user. However, last night my baby and I slept on our bed, and my Lovely Partner slept on the crib mattress next to us on the floor. This morning, Lovely said it was the best night's sleep she's had in a while.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-18009162114824446702009-01-11T14:27:00.000-08:002009-01-11T14:57:00.553-08:00I Hate My Babysitter (But not really...)Maternity leave is officially over. This is permanent. Lovely and I did the math, we can't pay our student loans and fertility debt unless we are both working. Hell, we can't even if we are both working. There is no way around daycare, right now. (I'm not against daycare at all, I just personally want to be home with my baby)<br /><br />So I leave my Sunshine in the morning and pick her up at night. First I hand over my baby, then I hand over my money. It is a double blow. The absurdity of this situation never ceases to amaze me. And I know the childcare worker is underpaid, as well.<br /><br />So I don't hate my babysitter, really. I'm jealous of all the time she spends with my baby.<br /><br />We are lucky that my sister has agreed to be the live-in babysitter for January. Beyond lucky. She is gifted with babies and I get to see her so much more. She got laid off so I know I should be thankful that I have a job. Lots of people are losing theirs.<br /><br />Little Sunshine seems okay with the adjustment. She smiles and coos and seems in a good mood most of the time. However, she has discovered the joys of reverse cycling. This is when a baby decides to nurse often during the night, typically after a Mom returns to work. (I read about it on go.ogle, so it must be true) She used to sleep in pleasant 7-8 hours stretches, now we are lucky to get three. This started exactly when I returned to work. I researched what I should do about this and my favorite advice was "Take reverse cycling as a compliment from your baby." I do my best to feel flattered at 12 a.m., 3 a.m. and 6a.m.<br /><br />One good thing is that (for now) I am less stressed about every little thing Sunshine is doing. For one thing, I have less time to search the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">internet</span>. But mostly its because problems seem temporary when babies change so damn fast. My <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">internet</span> search history already has "Baby won't nurse" "Baby nurses constantly" "Baby won't take bottle" "Baby takes too much bottle" "Baby sleeps too much" "Baby doesn't sleep enough." I honestly can't keep up. I'm just gonna hang on and assume that while I am writing about reverse cycling today, I might be writing about the opposite situation next week. Is there such thing as forward cycling?Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-88481630046764409952009-01-02T18:35:00.000-08:002009-01-03T09:00:09.434-08:00Can We Learn Without Direct Experience?Sometimes I have toyed with the idea that I can't learn except by actual experience. That is, advice never helps me. It is like I won't believe it until I see it. This partially explains my credit card debt and past (long ago, thank goodness) relationships with addicts. If only I had listened to what....gee everyone was telling me.<br /><br />I now present my list of advice I WISHED I followed regarding pregnancy and having an infant:<br /><br />1) <em>Enjoy your pregnancy. </em>Ha-easier said then done...but still I think I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">could've</span> enjoyed it more. I know that pregnancy loss is real and the worst thing in the world. Still I wish I had savored that oddness that is feeling pregnant.<br /><br />2) <em>Write down something about your new baby every single day, no matter how short it is or how tired you are.</em> So much of the first month is a blur. I wish I knew more about the hours she slept or how often she ate, how many diapers I changed a day. (Honestly if I could have a videotape of every moment of her first three months I would LOVE that)<br /><br />3) <em>Nursing will get better after 6 weeks</em>. I guess I listened to this advice, but I never believed it for real because nursing was so painful and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">frustrating</span>. It got so much better. It got great. I can't explain it but its one of the most empowering things I have done in my life. Highly recommended.<br /><br />4) <em>Enjoy the newborn stage</em>. Its true that I thought I might lose my mind with my often crying newborn. When people gave me this advice I thought they were delusional. I was so scared of her vulnerability I wished she would get older quicker. But now I wish I had savored more the smell of her newborn skin, the smallness of her fist, the sheer newness of her. It really goes by so fast.<br /><br />5) <em>Stay Home with Your Newborn As Much As Possible</em>. At the time I thought I needed to be out and about showing my baby the world around her. And maybe I felt a little cabin fever myself. We walked to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">coffeeshops</span> and I took her on two visits across state lines. But she was stressed and I was stressed and now I think that sitting on the couch for three months is really not so bad. Its only three months.<br /><br />Okay so lets see what advice I am getting now that I will regret not following......Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-27723196591187035972009-01-02T18:27:00.000-08:002009-01-02T18:34:57.399-08:00DisbeliefI thought about my post about feet and how it might sound...as if biological connections were such an important thing. I can see how other Moms might feel about that and that might be insensitive. What I wanted to convey more was my sense of disbelief that I do have a daughter. I was someone who felt certain she would not arrive. <br /><br />Sometimes I forget the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">TTC</span> part is over. I got my first period the other day and when I saw the blood I felt alarmed, just like the old days. I have some clothes that I wore the day I had the miscarriage and I never wore them during my pregnancy. I felt like it was bad luck. I shove those clothes to the back of the drawer and then I remember that she is already here.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-68635518898336761612008-12-30T17:27:00.000-08:002008-12-30T17:34:06.543-08:00Happy FeetI am still finding it hard to believe that I gave birth to the baby playing in the next room. I started this blog before I had her, and now she is real. I never could have dreamed up a more wonderful baby. I don't think she looks too much like me. She doesn't have my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my hair, or my facial shape. I feel like I have a good idea what her donor must look like. Her social security card and birth certificate haven't come yet, and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">occasionally</span> I worry about not having identification for her.<br /><br />I have bizarre thoughts, like someone will ask me to prove I birthed her. I imagine a stern man from the Department of Parental Security demanding evidence. "Look," I will say desperately while quickly pulling off my shoes and socks, "we have identical toes."Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-77414064614794127722008-12-30T17:23:00.000-08:002008-12-30T17:38:15.494-08:00New LookI have myself a new header, thanks to Calliope at creatingmotherhood.com. I "won" it from the Uterus Brigade. I've changed my subheading in homage to my Mom (not that she knows I have a blog) because she puts out a family newsletter called Mom's Musings.<br />Thanks Calliope!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-318070379478424842008-12-02T22:11:00.000-08:002008-12-02T22:17:28.984-08:00Belated ThankgivingThank you to everyone who gave me advice and support on my Incompetence post. That was good stuff. Thanks to everyone who reads and comments or lurks. Your real perspectives (and the ones I just imagine) have helped me sort my thoughts.<br /><br />Thanks especially to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">bloggers</span>, whose blogs give me so much <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">freakin</span> good information and inspiration. Before <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">TTC</span>, I didn't buy into the idea of "online community' and I have happily been proved wrong.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-9712209802278949742008-12-02T21:40:00.000-08:002008-12-02T22:20:26.428-08:00What's In a Name?I use <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pseudonyms</span> for this blog, which makes this story difficult to tell.<br /><br />My name is Sarah Soda. My <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">girlfriend</span> is Lovely Partner. Our baby, Sunshine, has her last name. This was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">decision</span> we came to mutually. I gave our baby my DNA, she gave our baby her name. We don't have a double or hypenated last name. Our baby has two MIDDLE names, one of which is my last name. We are totally fine with this.<br /><br />So, our baby is Sunshine Middle Soda Partner. (Which sounds like it is from the Sarah <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Palin</span> Name Generator Game). To make it more confusing, Sunshine's real name is somewhat unusual and has a commonly used nickname, Sunny. Both my last name and my partner's name are also not pronounced as they are spelled. None of us have androgynous names. I love Sunshine's name, but I also recognize it's a name with issues.<br /><br />After Sunshine was born, we received a lot of presents for her in the mail. An overwhelming, much-appreciated amount of packages. Since we live in an apartment with a broken doorbell on a busy street in an urban neighborhood, we did not receive many of the packages, but instead got a card from the post office asking us to pick them up at the Post office.<br /><br />They have been addressed to: Sunshine Soda, Sunshine Partner, Sunny, Sunny c/o of Partner, Lovely and Sarah, Sunshine Soda Partner, Ms. Lovely Partner and Ms. Sarah Partner, Sunny Soda, Ms. Sunshine M.S. Partner etc. You get the idea.<br /><br />So I go to the post office to pick up a bunch of packages. Anticipating a problem, I have Lovely sign the form that says I can pick up packages in her name, plus her Driver's License. I get to the post office right before it closes, and soon a long line is behind me. I hand over 4 cards all with different variations of the name, plus my I.D. and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Lovely's</span> I.D.<br /><br /><em>Postal Worker says "Well these packages appear to be for "Sunshine" and then there is one for "Ms. Lovely Partner, so what ones are you picking up" </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Me: "Sunshine is a baby, she can't pick them up, so I am, and Lovely Partner signed here that I can pick her packages up" </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Postal Worker "Well.....you only have a signature from Lovely Partner, when the packages are for Sunshine Partner."</em><br /><br /><em>Me: "Sunshine is an infant, so I am picking them up"</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Postal Worker "Who is the Mom then?" (Crowd behind me gets impatient as Postal Worker scrutinizes all the I.D.s, all the cards, all the variations of Sunshine's name)</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Me: "Both of Us" (Postal Worker doesn't hear me, still scrutinizing)</em><br /><br /><em>Postal Worker "What, who's the Mom?"</em><br /><br /><em>Me: "Her" </em><br /><em></em><br />So yep, in a rush, with an impatient crowd behind me, I actually denied I was my daughter's mother. For what sociologist <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Goffman</span> calls "ease of interaction." I wouldn't have done this if Sunshine was a grown child, and listening. (I don't think so anyway, although I would consider safety, her wishes, etc). But in this case, it was the quickest easiest way to get the packages. I know the same thing would happen for Lovely if Sunshine had my last name. I imagine this kind of thing will happen a lot. It still felt very weird.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-30271861201478282422008-11-23T16:59:00.000-08:002008-11-24T05:35:32.975-08:00IncompetenceI feel like I am not accurately portraying life with my infant. There is so much about being a Mom is great, and also much that makes me feel incompetent.<br /><br />For example:<br /><br />1) I'm not good at bathing her. She's so slippery and it freaks me out. I always call my partner in to help me. It seems like something I should be able to pull off on my own.<br /><br />2) I often can't comfort her. She cries and is miserable. I thought that fed, dry babies stop crying when their Mom picks them up. Not the case with the Not-Always-Sunny-Sunshine.<br /><br />3) Sometimes, I still feel bad about the epidural/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">epi</span>. That maybe I missed out on some crucial bonding moment with her that I can't make up because I wasn't centered enough.<br /><br />4) I'm not calm and collected when my baby screams in public. (See #2)<br /><br />5) I feel sad for my partner that because of my age we put my dreams (having a baby) in front of her dreams (traveling, exciting career). With all our money in fertility and child care, she doesn't have freedom I did when I was younger. She loves Sunshine so much, but I know she has sacrificed more then I have.<br /><br />6) I'm having trouble with my sling. I swear some of the hip mamas around are looking at me like "You suck with that messed up sling, you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">imposter</span>!"<br /><br />7) I worry that my mothering skills are being negatively evaluated often. (See #6). I know I should not care what people think so much.<br /><br />8) I feel guilty when I get bored at home, or am wishing I could just check my email. I love her more then anything, but sometimes its taxing to take care of a baby.<br /><br />9) I have trouble with getting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">onesies</span> on still. Why must baby clothes be pulled over a baby's head? Every baby I have ever seen HATES this.<br /><br />10) While nursing is going fine now, I still don't know when she has eaten enough, when she is hungry vs. wanting to suck, etc. I don't trust my intuition on this.<br /><br />Its not that I need to be comforted about this, or be told I'm doing a good job or anything like that. I am mostly thinking about the identity shift that has happened. In some ways I am a different person, but in many ways, I feel the same. I am not someone who this stuff happens for naturally...like all those hip mamas with their calm infants in the slings!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-71451999545971931082008-11-20T14:31:00.001-08:002008-11-20T15:31:19.846-08:00Dancing Queen, Young and Sweet, Only Seven WeeksBefore we started trying to have a baby, I read tons of things about having kids and did a lot of mental planning. I thought about what the nursery would be like, how I would tell my parents, what we would name the baby. As each try failed, my enthusiasm for these projects shrunk. When a year had gone by and I still wasn't pregnant, I pretty much stopped thinking about my still hypothetical kid. It was painful to give it too much energy.<br /><br />However, there was one project I kept working on: My Ultimate Baby CD.<br /><br />I have to confess that I don't know very much about music. I don't even listen to the radio, ever. I don't even like the question "What kind of music do you like?" because I never know what to say. However, when I was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">TTC</span>, I became obsessed with the idea of creating a mix CD for yet-to-be-conceived-Sunshine. I started compiling a list of songs before we even started trying the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">IUIs</span>. The list was a page in the back of my planner, and it grew and grew. I tried to incorporate songs from different musical genres. I tried to think of songs that would be appropriate and life affirming for a child. I checked in with Lovely Partner, who asked me to add Led Zeppelin, Tori Amos, and oddly, "You Can Call Me Al." I know it might sound silly, but this list was one of the things that kept me feeling positive about trying to have a baby. It was abstract enough not to hurt, but concrete enough that I felt like I was going to have a baby someday. It was a pleasant distraction from thinking about cervical mucus.<br /><br />My sister started helping me with the project and soon we had an excel spreadsheet to sort the songs into categories ("Songs for and Inspired by the Gay Community," "Just Plain Fun Songs,"Soothing Sounds" etc.)<br /><br />On the day Lovely Partner adopted little Sunshine, my sister presented us with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">CDs</span>, which must have taken her a really really long time to burn. It is a total of 8 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">cds</span>, and over 100 songs.<br />(It also must have cost her a lot of money to buy the songs, and she confessed she did not already own any of the songs "For and Inspired by the Gay Community." )<br /><br />Most days, I play these songs and dance with my baby. Every now and then a song will make me cry. Lovely Partner thinks its <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">hilarious</span> that I have included Christopher <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Plummer</span> singing "Edelweiss." We have also clarified with each other that the way we dance at home with a baby (swaying like dorks) is not how we would dance at a club. It is hard to say, but Sunshine seems partial to "Do You Love Me?" by the Contours. So, I'm finding that I am listening to music a lot more these days.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-23976245695442299212008-11-09T17:26:00.000-08:002008-11-09T18:01:51.782-08:00My night with StellaStella isn't the name of my daughter, its the name of a beer I just drank. My Lovely Partner has been encouraging me to get out of the house where I have been tethered to my Sunshine for 6 weeks today. Lovely tells me that I really need a break. In six weeks, I've spent roughly a total of 4 hours out of my house. Weird. I used to be such an active girl.<br /><br />So I head out a local restaurant and have the above mentioned beer. Though I've always been a lightweight, this beer makes me feel ridiculously loopy. Maybe its from nursing, or not drinking beer for 9 months. I sit by myself at a booth and read the newspaper, inhaling election news, restaurant reviews, and gay gossip. I sort of....forget everything. Then, it feels oddly outrageous to be sitting there while Lovely is at home with the baby. I feel like a bad Mom. Still, I ordered dessert. I feel somewhat like my old self, reading the paper in a restaurant. For a few minutes, I am tranferred back to my old life. But yet, I don't really miss my old self, all carefree and ......leisurely. But I do I miss Lovely Partner! She should be here with me. We always said that we would go for sushi once we had the baby. However, this date is probably some time off as we nurse and care for an infant in a town far away from most of our loved ones and natural babysitters. I miss talking to her. Then I feel bad for not thinking my daughter should be here with me. Somehow, Lovely fits in with my image of a great night at the restaurant, but the baby doesn't. I wonder what they are doing right now, in this hour away from me. I've been craving some time to myself, but yet I'm sort of bored at the restaurant.<br /><br />I think my identity has shifted because my old one isn't fitting somehow. I feel like an imposter, drinking beer and reading papers by myself in public. I stroll over to a public computer lab and logon to f.acebook, where I know Lovely has posted pictures of our daughter. I look throught them. I thought about the other night when Lovely and I went through the pictures from the day of the birth. We were both amazed to see that Sunshine looked like herself at birth. She seemed like a stranger 6 weeks ago, and now she is so familiar. Before we looked back at these pictures, we both assumed she must have looked different at birth for us to feel that way. But in the birth pictures, she is so familiar. So heartbreakingly sweet.<br /><br /> In the computer lab, I write this post. And that is how I spent the two hours away from my daughter today.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-23208105954941536192008-11-08T08:19:00.000-08:002008-11-08T09:45:39.669-08:00But I Wanted to Write about How We Cried when Obama WonOne sunny day in 1997, I was taking a walk with my friend. She told me that she heard Ellen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Degeneres</span> was going to come out of the closet, and that she was going to make the main character on her show a lesbian. I was 24, and had been out for 3 years already. I pretty much knew Ellen was a lesbian (duh!) but I was surprised by the latest rumors about her TV show. I told my friend that I doubted that would happen. In fact, I told her that I didn't think a show about a lesbian starring an out lesbian would happen "in my lifetime." Of course, I was incredibly incredibly wrong. My <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">laughable</span> myopic statement was uttered just over a decade ago, but it seems like a lifetime. Out t.v and movie characters and public figures are commonplace. States legalized gay marriage. And, yes, our President-Elect explicitly included gay folk in his historic acceptance speech.<br /><br />And yet.<br /><br />So many of us had our celebration on Tuesday take a sadder tone when we learned the news of Prop 8. Lovely and I watched the returns, the speeches, the incredibly moving images of people dancing in Chicago, Kenya, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Spellman</span> College, Ebenezer Baptist church. We cheered, cried, and drank champagne. When Obama talked about what changes his daughters might see in America if they lived to be 106, I thought of my own daughter. She was nestled in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Lovely's</span> lap, wearing an Obama <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">onesie</span>, oblivious to the fact that her country had been changed forever. She slept through my happiest moment as an American. Then Lovely left the room and I checked the Prop 8 news. Not good. Terrible. I decided not to tell Lovely, who worked her ass off fighting an anti-gay amendment in our Home State in 2004, only to be crushed. I wanted her to continue to savor this night of hope and feeling included in something wonderful. She walked up to me and I tried to close the computer browser. But she looked at me and said "I just looked up the same thing in the other room." <br /><br />I tried to focus on Obama and what it meant. I still celebrated all day <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Wednesday</span> and felt <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">jubilant</span>, especially when seeing pictures of the First Family. I struggled with the idea that I might be missing the bigger picture of the election since it was "my' group that was screwed. But you can't totally shake it when a majority of people vote to take away your rights, the rights of people you love, and the rights of a community you call your own. I hurt for my friends in California. I thought of Del Martin and Phyllis Lyon and what the people in California were saying about their beautiful inspiring marriage. It is hard to feel excited about inclusion when you are excluded. It is difficult to feel hope when yours dashed in state after state. It is nearly impossible to feel giddy about progress when you see a major step back.<br /><br />So many people have remarked that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Obama's</span> win was something they would never see in their lifetime. How moving it is to hear the stories of people who toiled in the civil rights movement talk about what this election means to them. They talked about how impossible and far off this moment once seemed. They mentioned scars, pain, and losses.<br /><br />As I despair about Prop 8 and what it means to my family, I'm going to try to keep these heroes in mind. To keep my eyes on the prize. To remember my conversation about Ellen and how change can come sooner than we think. To think about what beautiful and amazing changes my daughter will see if she lives to be 106. To hope it doesn't take that long. To work for it, even when victory seems impossible and far off. <br /><br />Deep in my heart, I do believe, we will overcome. Someday.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-29520018603301723612008-11-01T20:17:00.000-07:002008-11-01T21:08:02.298-07:00Salad in My Bra, Crying over Spilt Milk and Other Nursing DisastersBelieve me when I tell you that if I was more tech savvy or had more time I would've somehow made the theme from Jaws play when you read this post.<br /><br />My <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lil</span> Sunshine is 5 weeks old and doing very well. We've been doing a lot of learning, she and I.<br />Nursing has been the hardest thing for us to master. I am baffled as to why something that seems perfectly designed by nature has been so tricky for the two of us. <br /><br />The rough patch started on day one, when the nurse <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">threatened</span> to take my baby to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">NICU</span> if I didn't feed her formula or if some blood sugar number didn't go from 48 to "above 50." So already I was scared something was wrong with me, my milk, the baby. I quickly realized that I couldn't do many of the nursing positions people recommended because for several days I could not sit up or re-position my body due to the tailbone injury I sustained in labor. (I am looking forward to telling sunshine one day how I busted my ass birthing her) I kept nursing and it hurt. Every nursing guide in the world will tell you that if breastfeeding hurts, you are doing it wrong. Too which I wanted to yell "No <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">freakin</span> kidding!" I could not get it right. My nipples were raw and my heart hurt too from seeing my little baby at my breasts, wailing in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">frustration</span>.<br /><br />One breast got engorged and it really hurt. Sunshine couldn't latch on that side at all. The lactation consultant told me to put cabbage on it if that happened so I did. So I walked around for a couple of days with cabbage on my breast. My sister asked if I left like biblical Eve, but I told her I felt like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">goblaki</span>. (My mother is Polish and prefers we use this term instead of "stuffed cabbage). I also had the fun of having other people push on my breast so that we could leak milk into a bottle. Luckily my body modesty was destroyed giving birth to Sunshine. If we pushed for an hour or so, we could get an ounce of milk to feed to her. When Lovely Partner <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">accidentally</span> kicked over some of the expressed breast milk, I cried. All that effort, dribbling on the floor. We tried to use the mechanical breast pump, but it came with its own set of problems and haunted me with a strange <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">rhythmic</span> noise that I swear sounded like "John McCain Sarah <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Palin</span> John McCain Sarah <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Palin</span>."<br /><br />The worst part was the look on Sunshine's face as she was placed on me to be nursed. Her face would be beet red. Her mouth would be open as if screaming. Her little head would sort of bang against me and I imagined her thinking "Stop this now!" or "I hate you!" When we couldn't get any milk and I was scared I was starving her, we tried a bit of formula--in a bottle. That didn't help. (I later read that women thinking they are starving their babies is a main reason they quit breastfeeding). Sunshine still had trouble latching and then I did my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Internet</span> research and saw how a bottle can cause "nipple confusion." I felt like a complete idiot for not researching breastfeeding before, you know, having a baby. In extremely bad planning, I was collecting articles on making creative meals for toddlers instead. Finally I found some articles on curing nipple confusion. I bought special ice packs for breasts with holes where the nipples are. I realized my teeth were hurting from gritting them when she latched on. While she napped I dreaded the next time she would need to eat.<br /><br />But, everyone kept telling me that it usually gets easier to nurse, so I kept trying. It did get easier, little by little. I put away the cabbage and started using my special boob ice packs less and less. My sunshine is a smart cookie and she started figuring out some things about nursing. I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">must've</span> learned something too, though I don't remember how or when. The coolest part (besides knowing that I am successfully feeding my baby) is when we do get it right. Sometimes, she even grabs my finger with her little hand and grips it tight when she is nursing. Even though I know I am projecting, I like to tell myself this is her way of encouraging me and saying "Come on Mom, we can do this!"<br /><br />I think that I like to reflect on the whole experience of learning to breastfeed because it helps me remember that there is a learning curve to a lot of this mothering stuff. Even if it doesn't come natural to me, I can still try to improve.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-68428071695421908362008-10-15T12:35:00.000-07:002008-10-15T14:16:31.966-07:00Birth Story (Long)Even though I was thinking about her birth every second of every day, Sunshine's arrival still managed to surprise me. On Friday the 27<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> (one day past due date), I cleaned up my office at work. I told everyone "maybe I will see you Monday." And that night, I started to feel.....weird. I told Lovely "I feel like I am...hatching something." <br /><br />On September 28<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span>, I woke up at 530 and went to the bathroom, as I did for the whole pregnancy. I laid back down and within minutes I felt my water break. This was completely <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">unambigious</span>. It was a flood. I gently woke Lovely and said "my water broke" She said "Are you sure?'' and I laughed. I stood up and water just kept flowing. It seemed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">hillarious</span>, somehow. We had been reassuring people for months "Normally labor doesn't start with a dramatic water breaking like in the movies" I felt fine. We called my family (who live 5 hours away) and Happy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Doula</span>, who told us to rest and eat. We wanted to labor at home as long as possible, and I thought it was great timing to go into labor on Saturday morning. We started organizing our things and I read political blogs, calmly. Once Lovely took the dog to day care and to pick up baked goods for the nurses, I started to feel contractions. It was most similar to stomachaches. I wrote down the times of contractions and thought "this isn't too bad." I assumed I would have a really long labor since it was my first birth and my Mom had a 50 hour labor.<br /><br />These are the times I recorded for contractions, which don't even make sense:6:33, 650? (erased), 7;06, 7;38 (minor), 7:46, 7:50, 8;03, 8:14, 838, 8:36" Everything started to blur together and I didn't know when they were starting and ending.<br /><br /> Lovely had returned and I told her to call Happy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Doula</span>, since contractions were increasing and I was feeling in pain. I started to do all the things they said women often do in labor, like pound tables, pace around the room, open and shut cupboards. Happy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Doula</span> arrived and watched me carefully. I couldn't tell where contractions were starting and ending. I started to feel like I would vomit. I asked the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">doula</span> "How was your dance competition?" and when she started to tell me I said something overly formal like "I beg your pardon, please excuse me" and I went into the bathroom. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Doula</span> gave me a towel soaked in peppermint oil which I clutched for dear life. I have no idea why this helped me so much, but peppermint is now the smell of birth for me. We drove to the hospital, and I wasn't crying but it was close. It felt like the drive took forever.<br /><br />Lovely parked the car and Happy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Doula</span> and I took the long walk to Ob triage. The nurse looked at me and I said "Hello, I am in labor" They got me on a bed immediately but my body was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">spazzing</span> out. I was clutching the peppermint towel like it was my lifeline. They asked if I wanted an epidural and I said yes. (I was open-minded about epidurals in birth plan, and everything was happening so fast, I barely thought about it) Lovely arrived and the doctor said I was at 6cm. I threw up. (I can't describe labor pain, except to say it takes over your entire body, as if an energy force was squeezing you down to get the last bit of toothpaste out of you) They wheeled me up to Labor and Delivery and I remember thinking that the breeze of moving fast felt so nice. But then I was crying, or yelling. The pain kept intensifying. At one point I looked at Lovely and said "Please help me" and she almost cried. Immediately after the epidural, the doctor said I was "complete, 10 cm" and everyone in the room got ready, as if a baby would fall out any second. I couldn't believe my contractions had started only a few hours ago and already I was at 10cm!<br /><br /> I thought at this point the baby would come right away, even before noon! Everything was happening so fast. And so I pushed my hardest, thinking that each push would be the one that worked. My sister came in the room and I laughed. It seemed so surreal that she would walk in while I was pushing a baby out. I was feeling so much better after the epidural though-- I felt like myself again. Then my Mom arrived and I called her in. This meant the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">doula</span> had to leave since we reached our max of support people. Having my Mom there wasn't in the plan, but when she walked in I smiled and said "Hi <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Mumma</span>" and I was glad she was there. It suddenly seemed appropriate for me. My team of nurses and doctors kept encouraging me to push. My Mom said I almost broke her hand when I was pushing. Lovely said that it was amazing. One of the nurses kept yelling "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">goooooooo</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">mommmmmmy</span>!" Everyone kept saying, "You are doing great!" which I found funny, because I didn't feel like I was doing anything---my body had taken over me completely. Lovely told me that she could see the baby's head, and that our baby had brown hair. My biggest fear in labor what was that I would be scared for my baby, but I actually wasn't. They kept giving me the numbers of her heartbeat, and I just felt like she was doing okay, and that things were going they way they were supposed to.<br /><br />Alas, after two hours of hearing how "close" the baby was and being invited to feel her head, I started to get tired. I noticed the doctor's conferring with one another quietly. One doctor mentioned an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">epistiotomy</span> and Lovely and I were like "Not crazy about that idea." I kept pushing. Doctors kept conferring. Lovely went over and listened to the doctor's explanation of why the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">epi</span> was a good idea. The doctor said to me "This is not about the baby's health, the baby is fine, it is you that I am concerned with" (This is the opposite of what I expected doctors to say) Apparently, the doctor felt that given my,um, size and the baby's size and position, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">perenium</span>/rectum was going to tear completely soon. I don't know if this is BS, or something they always say. They did seem genuinely concerned. They didn't seem to be trying to scare me about the baby, which I appreciated. And finally, I said "Okay, take her out" So that was my 8 hour labor, which ended at 1:46 p.m.<br /><br />Within a minute, the cuts were made, and a baby was on my chest. I wish I could see all of this better with my mind's eye, but I think I was in shock. Lovely said that the baby looked peaceful coming out. The doctors took her (not following birth plan, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">aaargh</span>!) and started doing the tests on her under the warmer. I yelled out questions "What does she look like?" "What is the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">agpar</span>?" "Tell me about my baby!" "Does she look like me?" The nurse yelled out "10 lbs, 9 oz" and everyone in the room gasped! I could see Lovely crying happily over the baby. I became irritated with the doctor stitching me up and asked for the baby. Everything felt surreal and distant I'm sad that I was practically disassociated during this time period, I started casually talking to Happy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Doula</span> about her kids. I thought about how <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">medicalized</span> the birth was, and I was ambivalent and somewhat embarrassed about how it all played out. I did feel badly that I didn't have the extreme high and rush of maternal feelings that some women talk about after labor. There was some highs, but these moments waiting for her were a low.<br /><br />Finally, after about 25 long minutes they brought Sunshine to me. I said "Oh my baby, I missed you so much." Everybody probably thought I meant the I missed her the 25 minutes she was being poked and prodded. I meant that I missed her all the years I spent waiting for her. And I swear to fucking god she looked right at me like she knew me and was surprised to see me there.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-85422725925856134752008-10-01T13:53:00.001-07:002008-10-01T13:58:08.243-07:00Let the Sunshine InI'm happy to report that our healthy 10 lbs 9 oz, 22 inches long (?!?!?) baby girl was born on Saturday September 27th. She is beautiful (I'm biased) and doing wonderfully. (I myself will need a ....recovery period, although no C-Section.) Birth story soon as I am able!<br /><br />Thanks everyone for your well wishes!<br /><br />If you like name and picture info, email me at Sodapop1939ATYa.ho.ho.com.<br /><br />She is our Sunshine!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124028449583237122.post-29954167656892823092008-09-23T18:29:00.000-07:002008-09-23T18:39:21.608-07:00Let's get this Show on the roadSo now I fall into the category of "people who start dilating but take a while to go into labor." I'm still pregnant. My due date is on Thursday. I had high hopes of watching Friday's Presidential Debates with her on my blue couch at home. Not sure that is gonna happen!<br /><br />I had some bloody show on Friday, which made labor seem so imminent. We even coincidently rented "Best in Show" that night which seemed like it could be a funny part of the labor story: Best in Bloody Show. But now its Tuesday night and I am not having even Braxton Hicks contractions.<br /><br />It is a bizarre feeling to not know what day your life will change. Will it be tomorrow? Will it be in two weeks? Before or after we finish this loaf of bread? In September or October? Each night I go to sleep wondering if I will go into labor that night.<br /><br />Lovely Partner took me for a walk for spicy food tonight. She wants to get this show on the road too!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09489335840714803977noreply@blogger.com3