"DON'T give up!"

I received strange, yet powerful words of wisdom, from my 2 1/2-year-old daughter the other day. 

With squinched face and pointing finger, she demanded of me, "DON'T give up!" Not quite sure where she heard that. But it resonated in my head as I have been preparing for this upcoming birth journey that is really a continuation of her her birth journey. Really, all three journeys are strung together in one long, epic story over the course of five years. 

Lately we've been resting, planning, praying and praying some more as we approach "The Day," whenever that is. A bag of frozen brussels sprouts ("sprubble brouts," as my daughter calls them) and a borrowed blood pressure cuff have been my best friends. I have daily, if not hourly, talks with God, in hopes that this baby turning is His will, but ultimately that whatever happens, it goes well and I can come to terms with it. So far He has already answered one prayer in keeping my blood pressure lower and stabilized, for which I am so thankful. And I also found out last night that my son or daughter does not like having a bag of frozen food placed on its head, as the head is definitely not in the same position it was before. I've been down on all fours, cleaning my daughter's room, anything I can think of - to get this baby to turn. So we'll see ... only a last-minute ultrasound can really reveal the truth.

It would be easy to just give in and assume that the baby won't turn, my pressure will be too high, blah blah blah ... and do the c-section already. Most women would have already done that and been over and done with it and home recovering right now with their babies. But I guess I'm not most women ... I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Time will tell, though. I don't feel like this is a gamble so much as me allowing my body time to do what God intended, or at least try. In a world where we're trained to want answers now without having to wait and are awarded instant gratification, I'm hoping that the end result will be a much sweeter reward for having waited. 

Hopefully my experiences and story will make it that much more encouraging to someone else in my position. In the words of my daughter, "DON'T give up!"

"So, when's this baby going to come?"

That's what I heard at my last OB appointment yesterday. I joked, "Well, I've put in my request." "When are we going to do this c-section?" he asked, not at all joking. Now that's just not something you say to a woman hoping to VBAC and expect her to take it lightly or think it's even remotely funny. 

At nearly the 40-week mark we've had some interesting, if not startling, revelations. After my OB appointment I spent more than three hours in the hospital for observation of high blood pressure and moderate ankle swelling, only to find out the baby was transverse. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, and it definitely puts a monkey wrench in the works. 

But the good news: I'm still pregnant. Barely. 

After an animated discussion on the phone with one of my doctors in the hospital, I nearly had to beg and plead with her just to let me remain pregnant until this baby chose it's day, malpositioned or not. Her insincerity and total lack of hesitation to pressure me into an immediate c-section was surreal, considering I had the same complications with even higher BPs and swelling in my last pregnancy and was definitely not admitted for observation. I basically told her this, and was in no way going to let her scare me into making an immediate decision. I wanted to go home and rest, think about it, and do some research. 

I feel lucky, considering the millions of women who seem to get duped into taking their obstetrician's word that it's a definite emergency and worthy of panic. I've also heard women say how their reluctance or outright refusal to follow their doctor's orders can result in being treated harshly or ignored, which is inexcusable. I wanted to ask my male doctor why it's only in obstetrics patients get treated this way - as if their bodies are not their own and they are at the mercy of some stranger to make decisions for them, or are completely incapable of making those educated decisions themselves. I wanted to ask, "If you went for a prostate exam, do you think the doctor would say, 'There's a chance you could get prostate cancer. Let's just remove the prostate, and while we're at it, cut off your genitals, too.'" No way would they say that, and no man would tolerate it. Neither should women!

I'm not blaming my doctors for this baby's position, but I can't help but feel ripped off slightly in the whole process. I'm trusting in God to take care of this baby and allow it to turn if it's His will. But in the meantime, it's hard to get over the anger of being made to feel inferior, like you're an idiot, and can't make your own decisions. The lack of support is overwhelming and does nothing but tear down your confidence and spirit - which is unfortunate, considering I have done this before. One nurse at the hospital told me "Good for you!" when she'd heard I had already had a VBAC, and I told her, "You don't normally hear that when you tell someone you've had one." You find yourself clinging to that one word of encouragement in a world full cynicism, apprehension, fear and indifference: as my labor doula put it, "They don't care what happens to you after the baby is born, especially if you have to come to taking care of three children after a c-section." As I told Dr. Congeniality on the phone, 'if this baby turns, I don't want to have had to go through all that for no reason.' 

My only prayer is that women everywhere else don't have to, either. You can't expect your doctors to fully educate you on the risks and benefits and be your advocate by suggesting, "Hey, why don't you do a VBAC?," or "Let's do what we can to avoid a cesarean." Only you can do that, and you owe it to yourself to keep your rights and stop giving them away to someone who only wants you in and out in order to move on to the next unsuspecting patient. 

The Fight To Give Birth in the Age of Fear-Based Obstetrics

As I quickly approach the 40-week mark in my pregnancy, I am thankful for many things: namely the fact that my body has essentially "proven" itself to not only me but to my OB's. I am preparing for my second VBAC (Vaginal Birth after Cesarean) and while my journey has been fairly uneventful thus far (I won't say totally uneventful, because that's not the truth), it is nothing less than a tooth-and-nail fight for thousands of women to do the same all over the US. 

I am also thankful that my only reason for having a c-section was breech presentation of my first child - not failure to progress, a "small pelvis," or failed induction of labor. I went into labor on my own even then, and had already progressed well despite the fact that we knew the baby had to be delivered via cesarean. With my second pregnancy, to my OB's credit he did offer me the choice to do a VBAC initially (which I declined, knowing nothing about it) and I think he was secretly relieved when I said no. But as I approached 37 weeks, my baby was heads down - something I wasn't even sure my children could do because of a physical defect of my uterus - and realized quickly that I really didn't want to go through the painful recovery of another c-section. 

I consulted with my OB, whom I thought was going to stutter himself into oblivion at my choice. I had since done lots of research, lots of praying, and lots of reading of very positive birth outcomes that I felt was essential to the preparation process. I couldn't believe what I was about to embark on, but with God's help and my husband's support, I could get through this. And I did. Beautifully!

I'm not totally against c-sections: of course I think there are instances where they are totally necessary. Breech presentations, multiple births (although not necessarily with twins alone, as long as they present correctly), severe prematurity, dangerous pre-eclampsia, and fetal distress are all obvious red flags, at least to me. But with a c-section rate of roughly 30 percent in this country, you have to wonder if those reasons are really why women are having c-sections?

More common reasons that the c-section rate is so high is because OB's want to practice "daylight obstetrics" - they want the baby out in time for dinner, essentially. With the ability to control so many facets of our lives, why not birth? Anymore if you go one day past your due date, you seem to be a candidate for induction. Pitocin-happy doctors willingly try and induce (more like coerce) a baby out even if it's not ready. Unfortunately it seems that fewer and fewer women are sent home as a result and are almost definitely candidates for c-section. Pitocin can bring with it a cascade of interventions that can sometimes alter or stop labor completely - increased use of epidurals because of harder, stronger contractions is not uncommon, which can, in turn, stall labor - leading to an increased number of c-sections. 

Insufficient pelvis size is another common reason many women are encouraged to have a c-section. Scores of women are even told their babies are too big to deliver vaginally just by an estimate on ultrasound, which further scares them away from attempting a vaginal delivery. Sadly, there is no definite way to know how big a baby will be until they're born and put on the scales - and ultrasound measurements can be off by as much as a pound either way. Many, many petite women give birth vaginally to "large" babies (according to the March of Dimes, anything between six and nine pounds is considered average) and do just fine. Even many babies deemed to be "stuck" can be birthed vaginally provided the medical practitioner knows to instruct the woman to change positions to facilitate further widening of the pelvis (known as the "Gaskin Maneuver," named for renowned midwife Ina May Gaskin). 

Because of the high rate of c-sections in the US, many women are faced with a two-fold problem: if they want more children, do they deliver them via cesarean too? 

Not necessarily. The mantra "once a c-section, always a c-section" is thankfully being disproved by women everyday in this country, although we still have to fight for the right to do so. But unfortunately few women choose this option - whether because they're uneducated about the risks, their doctors scare them out of it, or they have no interest - which is their right. I would never advocate a woman do a VBAC if she really doesn't want to, but neither should I think women should be scared into repeat c-sections for no reason, either. 

One reason many women are scared away from VBACs is the phrase "uterine rupture." It is possible, but is rare, provided you have a low, transverse incision (bikini incision). Also, your chances of receiving Pitocin to induce labor are less - because it can increase your risk of rupture. To many women, the risks of a c-section, if they even know what they are, are somehow more acceptable than the risks of a VBAC, even though the percentage of complications is about the same. 

Risk of VBAC, with non-induced labor, include:

• uterine rupture - this is rare, and the rate is around 1 percent, depending on which source you site

• risk of needing emergency c-section, should the same complications arise as in the first birth

• if you can't go into labor on your own, induction is not recommended 

Risks of cesarean section include:

• increased blood loss and chance of infection

• respiratory complications in the infant because of spinal anesthesia

• increased risk of scar tissue adhesion, especially after several c-sections (which can cause pain and sometimes infertility)

• premature birth because due dates are off 

• risk of uterine rupture (without even going into labor) (although small, still a risk)

It all boils down to which risks you are more comfortable in taking - because don't kid yourself that a repeat c-section isn't without significant risks, too. Neither of them are decisions that should be taken lightly, but unfortunately many women shrug it off as though it's nothing. This unwittingly affects birth outcomes and choices for thousands of women they don't even know, because they either don't care or aren't willing to fight their doctor for the right to give birth. And if you don't fight it, nothing will change. 

http://www.ynhh.org/healthlink/womens/womens_11_01.html

http://www.vbac.com

http://www.vbacfacts.com

http://www.mothering.com/articles/pregnancy_birth/birth_preparation/inducing.html

http://www.buffalonews.com/248/story/573154.html

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17796664/

The Dawn of a New Era: National Health Care?

The upcoming inauguration of President-Elect Obama has a lot of people excited, especially over his views on socialized medicine. Personally, I find the entire idea scary: to think, that our land of the Free and Home of the Brave could slowly be turning into an extension of another European nation?

Everyone's buzzing about "free healthcare," probably because ... it's free. At least on the surface. The idea of not having to pay for high medication costs and other procedures sounds alluring, I'm sure. But once you dig a little deeper, it becomes clear that the whole idea is a scary proposition. 

We've all read in the news in recent months and years about people hopping the border to the US to take advantage of better healthcare. To most US citizens, being put on a four-month waiting list to have a brain tumor looked at does not sound so appealing. I read not too long ago in the Wall Street Journal how death rates from prostate cancer, which is usually a relatively slow-spreading disease,  are apparently much higher than in the US, because patients don't even get to see a cancer specialist until they're in Stage Four cancer. Our rates of success and life expectancy are much higher here because we tend to treat cancer more aggressively. 

Hawaii became the first state to adopt universal healthcare for children, and it was a disaster, failing miserably after only seven months. Not only were budgetary problems a main concern, but the fact that people were dropping privatized care to opt for free coverage - which should be a warning flag to the kind of dishonesty and cheating that even this type of healthcare coverage is susceptible to. Multiply that on a national level, and it sounds like a surefire prescription for disaster. 

Nationalized healthcare looks good on paper - but let's examine some of the root causes for why so many people have high medical bills in the first place. We are considered, according to an article on Forbes.com, to be ranked the ninth-most obese country in the world, which should also not come as much of a surprise. 

Heart disease is the number one killer of men and women in this country. And most causes of heart disease are from poor diet and lack of exercise - which makes you ... obese. For the sake of argument, I won't include the killers of people that are usually beyond their control, like Alzheimer's Disease and accidents. The list includes:

• Heart disease

• Cancer

• Lung diseases

• Diabetes

Barring certain cancers like breast and lung cancer not caused by smoking, you can bet these types of illnesses are offshoots of a greater problem, most likely the explanation behind America's top ten spot in the above-mentioned poll. Obesity can cause a wide range of problems, from the obvious heart disease and diabetes, to high blood pressure, stroke, joint pain and depression. It's no wonder, then, that of the top 20 most commonly prescribed drugs as noted by Pharmacy Times, five drugs are used to treat high blood pressure or heart-related ailments. And smoking, another major factor, causes many of the same type of risk factors. 

Here, take this pill: it'll cure everything

At some point we have to ask ourselves, why should the government - and essentially the taxpayers - be responsible for footing the bill for a nation of people who can't take care of themselves? We know smoking is bad for us, but obviously we do it anyway. We know that excessive eating has led to a nationwide epidemic of overweight people, and not just adults - childhood obesity is on the rise as well. And yet, what are we doing about it? 

One can argue that you make the decision to overeat/smoke/drink or whatever and should be responsible for the outcome. But it seems that more and more Americans who cry foul over the rising costs of healthcare and how everything should be "free free free!" are ignoring the fact that they're part of the problem. 

As much as our system is flawed, it still could be much worse. Perhaps the high costs for healthcare are just another price we pay for the freedom to make choices, however bad they are. 

The Unfortunate True Spirit of Christmas?

I'm all about getting the best deal on toys, clothing, whatever I need for my house and family. But there are certain things I *won't* do to get that favorite toy for my kids. 

That includes killing people. 

I was shocked (although in hindsight, not really) to read in the news about how a crowd of roughly 2,000 people trampled a 34-year-old Wal-Mart greeter somewhere in New York. Or how two armed men shot each other in a California Toys 'R Us after the women they were with got into a bloody confrontation over who knows what. Officers at the scene apparently said it "wasn't over a toy," although it's hard to tell at this point whether it was that or a dispute between two people who already knew each other. At any rate, step foot inside a Toys 'R Us within even a month of Christmas and you'll see all kinds of hideous behavior, all for the sake of what their kid's flavor of the month favorite toy is. 

If you're a child of the 1980's like me, you might remember the dreaded Cabbage Patch Doll craze. My mother obtained one such "rare" doll after a shopping spree, only to be approached by a woman at the end of the checkout line asking how much she wanted for it. And this was probably 25 years ago. We've certainly escalated in our behavior since then: don't bother asking, just brighten someone's Christmas by whipping out a 9 mm pistol. That'll show little Johnny how much you care. 

And to think: last year for Christmas I was hellbent on buying my son the Blue's Clue's Memory Game. After searching several stores, including the hated Toys 'R Us, I gave up and bought another version - I didn't shoot someone over it. And you know what? A year later, we've found the cards are the perfect tool for keeping our roller blinds from letting in too much light around the edges. Who would have thought. I bet half the toys parents clamor over each other for will be relegated to the 'unplayed with' pile a year, maybe six months, later. 

That's the thing about toys. Sometimes it's never enough. I wonder, who wants the toy more - the kid or the parents? Maybe my kids are deprived, but whenever we go to friends' houses I'm always amazed at how many toys their kids have than mine do. One mother I know says she 'buys her daughter a new toy for getting through the week' or something like that. I hope my facial expression didn't give me away too much but I honestly couldn't believe what I was hearing. No wonder my kids love going over to their house, because the place is like it's own version of FAO Schwarz. 

And it's obvious the Black Friday Walmart shoppers had nothing else on their minds than toys and good deals when they literally crashed through the electric doors that morning. Two thousand people. And now a guy is dead because they wanted to save money on some worthless gadgets and trinkets. What's even sadder is that they have to go over security footage to find the suspect(s) who are not turning themselves in. Perhaps they don't want to believe or admit that they behaved like animals and were part of a group directly responsible for someone's death. 

Sadly, this sounds more like the "true" spirit of Christmas nowadays. 

Two Dead After Shooting in Crowded Toys 'R Us

Charges eyed in Wal-Mart trampling

Party at my crib, 2 a.m.

Ahh, those onesies are too cute. Unless the meaning is literal.

Lately, my two-year-old daughter has discovered the joys of springing from her crib the minute our backs are turned and cruising around her room (or the rest of the house) when she’s supposed to be asleep. Since she is normally a very good sleeper and bedtime routine guru, we are a little weary of her new habit.

Let’s see … I put her to bed around 8:15. Hubs and I took bets on how soon she would be out of bed – he said one minute, I gave her 15. Needless to say, he was right. With her bedroom right above the living room, we can hear everything. At last count, between us we’ve put her to bed five times. And it’s only been about half an hour. Sigh

The last I knew, she was standing in the windowsill looking at the moon. Hey, that’s great. But you’re supposed to be in bed. And after dealing with two kids running around all day, being exhausted as it is, I just want to sit on the couch and eat potato chips and drink pop and watch House, M.D. already. Lord, at least give me that.

It's hard to get angry at her for it, though - and I think she knows it. That's why she uses psychology on us: by smiling very cutely, waving her little hand and saying, "Hi, mommy!" she thinks, "I'm cute. I know it. She can't possibly be mad at me when I'm doing something this cute!"

This morning, I asked my son if she had gotten up during the middle of the night. I knew she had (because I caught her in the bathroom windowsill, looking at the *@&%@# moon again), but didn’t think she’d come downstairs.  My son confirmed that yes, she had come downstairs. I asked him how he knew, and he said, “Mom, I know everything.” Well, maybe you do – because there was a room temperature – yet unopened – yogurt container on the kitchen table at her place setting. As if to say, “Yeah, mom, I was here. But I got bored and came back upstairs to see you at 3 a.m.”

But we’ve tried just about everything to get her to stay in bed – letting her stay up late in hopes of wearing her out, not giving her a nap, putting up the baby gate – she evaded each of them like a pro. At one point I checked on her and found her sprawled on the floor, blanket in hand and thumb in mouth, sound asleep. I figured she’d give up, sooner or later.  The only remedies we have yet to try are the infamous crib tent and duct tape.  Letting her stay up proved amusing, if nothing else: at one point she was in her older brother’s room, poking his sleeping body and saying “Wake up, wake up!”  

Perhaps her absconding is a precursor of things to come in her teenage years? In which case, we’d better be prepared. 

The Motherhood of the Corduroy Pants

I am five months pregnant. And not in the mood. 

Today I spent a total of about four hours and who knows how many gallons of gas searching for maternity pants that fit. Specifically ones that didn’t make me look like I had either just rolled out of bed, was really wearing my husband’s oversized clothes, or was on my way to the Laundromat and wearing my last clean outfit.

Apparently this is a more difficult undertaking than I thought.

For me, a rather short person with an unbelievable 28-inch inseam, (probably shorter than that, even) pants shopping is a nightmare. When I’m pregnant, it’s like the next thing to being in hell – driving all over the area, wasting gas and time, and finding things that looked straight out of 1985. Either that, or a large collection of nice things … in size small. Obviously, someone out there is NOT a size small. That’s why all the larges are taken. Shouldn’t that tell the retail industry something? You’d think so, anyway.

Since Baby is going to be baking all winter long, I guess apparently I need to go searching for winter clothing in, say, August – when my baby is the size of a small raisin and I have no idea what will fit me and what won’t.

I have a mostly hate-hate relationship with the retail fashion industry. You know, the people who think that every woman is 5’8” and weighs 98 pounds. The same goes with maternity fashions. Our choices are as follows, according to my extensive search today: 

• t-shirts (Am I really going to be wearing short sleeves at Christmastime?!)

• stiff pants that are too long, feel like they’re made of sailcloth and convert to capris (yeah, that’d be great if I live in Florida!  But at least you can make them full length, which in my case, is practically the Capri length ….)

• absolutely NO dresses, unless you like ones that look like they have TV test patterns splattered all over them

• stripes, stupid saying like “I love my bump” (gah – I hate that euphemism for pregnancy!) or shirts with weird metallic designs that look like I had the baby and he or she has thrown up on me already. And if I’m going to be pregnant and wearing any slogans on my shirt, it will probably say something like “You DON’T mess with the pregnant lady!”)

Now, there are nice maternity clothes out there. I’ve seen them. In pictures. On models who were irrationally thin and didn’t look pregnant for real.

My first stop was the mall, a sprawling, rambling place that reeks of noxious fumes from candles and perfume and assaults the ears with blaring music that is decades away from “my generation,” whatever that means. Old Navy – blaring rap music at top volume. I thought to myself, If I worked here, I’d be playing 80’s music all day long! Most pregnant women, including myself, have suddenly developed a heightened sense of smell, and I thought I was going to go into epileptic fits after passing Yankee Candle.

Within minutes of arriving, I realized that the only real maternity store, Motherhood, has closed! What the …. I spent more time wandering around looking for my exit than I spent actually shopping for anything. But at least my daughter came away from the excursion with new socks.

My second stop was more by accident than anything else. In my haste to leave the mall, I happened across a maternity store up the street – one that combined the elusive Motherhood Maternity with two other stores. I groaned when I pulled up and saw “Mimi Maternity” and “A Pea in the Pod” on the window. Great. That meant I’d be able to afford maybe half a pantleg or even pair of socks.

I went inside and gravitated towards the cords, hoping to find something. I did – a pile of size smalls for $74. My eyes nearly fell out of my head and I turned to see that Motherhood Maternity’s line – which is much cheaper – was just across the aisle. Now, why would you want to buy the $74 Pea in the Pod pair of corduroys when you could buy virtually the same thing for $32 three steps away? (In today’s economy, who’s going to buy a pair of pants for that kind of money that you’ll only wear a few months? I’d have to wear them 7 days a week, sleep and shower in them to justify spending that kind of money.)

It didn’t matter in the end – even the petites were a bit too long. I asked the clerk about where to buy petite maternity pants, and she said that it would be ‘easier to have them shortened than to add length.’ Umm…I know how to sew (but obviously not well enough to make a pair of pants I wouldn’t actually be embarrassed to wear) and depending on the pants, shortening them does nothing. Had I been thinking like a rational person, I would have told her this – that if the crotch length is too low, you’re still going to have a pair of pants that necessitate you pull them halfway up to your tonsils to get them to fit right. (Picture Oompa Loompa pants.) Apparently the buyers at Motherhood have missed this concept?

There were some highlights of the trip, though. Like when my four-year-old son stared incredulously at the stereotypical pregnant woman advertising picture of her giant exposed belly and asked, “Mom, why is her belly so big?!” I said, “Because there’s a baby in there!” Then he asked to see mine, and then turned to look at me in profile, just for added emphasis. Or when I caught him looking quizzically at the maternity bras and touching the cups. Such things of the human body are mysterious to the young mind! 

In the meantime, I suppose I’ll have to be content to wear my three pair of warm pants and two long-sleeved shirts in heavy rotation for the next four months. So if you see me, please try to pay no attention to the fact that I’ve worn the same khaki pants for the past three days in a row.