On New Year's Day, I took a yoga/art workshop dedicated to setting intentions for the new year. After a yoga flow session, students made collages that depicted goals or hopes for 2011.
Each participant was given a square of poster paper. There were plenty of magazines, markers, crayons, pastels, glue, glitter, feathers, old calendars, postcards, and who knows what else to go around. The room had the feel of an elementary school art classroom, happy with chatter and creation. I, however, had a hard time getting started.
For one thing, I went through a collage phase in college (ha! no near pun intended) and I wasn't in the mood to cut and paste. I had, though, come to the workshop with some vague intentions in mind, as well as a deep belief in the power of setting intentions. In 2009, I went to a similar New Year's Day workshop in DC. In that one, we wrote letters to ourselves, to be mailed to us by the instructor in 6 months, that described our lives 6 months later. The idea was to describe in present tense the life that you wanted to be living 6 months later. That year, Dean and I had just decided to have a baby and I was sending off poems to journals, but so far had only received rejections. In my letter to myself, I was pregnant and holding the journal that held my first published poem. When I found the letter in my mailbox in late June, I was 5 months pregnant. The journal that contained my first published poem was on my bookshelf, within easy reach.
Because of one of 2009's attained set intentions--guess which one--I couldn't make it to a New Year's Day workshop in 2010. But I did in 2011, and I knew I wanted a year of change. First and foremost, I wanted more sleep. I wanted more time for yoga, more time for writing, and more time for myself in general. I knew I was going to wean sometime in 2011, and I knew I was going to think about looking for work in the fall. In general, I was hoping that 2011 would be a year of finding footing in the world of motherhood, of making room in my life for the things that had defined me before Amelia came along and became the center of my universe.
In the weeks before the 2011 workshop, I had been writing a prose poem about Amelia's birth. Some lines from the poem were floating through my head. I decided to write/rewrite the poem on my poster paper. First I cut into into a more oval shape. Think O'Keefe flowers--I was writing about birth here. And then I wrote the poem in the same oval shape. On top of it all, I wrote the a word in large block letters. I colored in some of the letters and pasted paper over others. The word was EVOLVE.
June is a rich month, sun and flowers and early summer harvest. It is the month I was married. It is the sixth month of the year, a halfway point, the perfect time to pause and consider or reconsider intentions for the year.
My plan for June is to write one blog post a day. I don't have any particular theme in mind for the posts--I won't always be writing about setting intentions, although this did seem like a good place to start--it's just that I have finished up some fairly major projects in May, not least of which was finishing my poetry manuscript and sending it off to several contests, and I would like to get back to the blog for awhile.
I have some other goals in mind too. In June, I want to
1. Drink more water. I realized I go through the day feeling thirsty a lot. (A note to Mom: I don't think it's diabetes.) I think I'm just thirsty. Denver is dry and I am busy.
2. Read more. My plan for Amelia's naptimes in June are to write on the blog and then read. I want to read both poetry and fiction. I started a Goodreads account a couple of years ago I would like to get back to too.
3. And with #2 in mind, I am setting a cleaning limit for myself in June. I have been feeling like I fritter away too much time straightening the house. It becomes a creative block, almost, a way for me to avoid sitting down to write. So in June, I am allowed to straighten up after breakfast and to do whatever chores seem most urgent for 10 minutes, and only 10 minutes, after Amelia goes down for her nap. I am going to set the timer. If Amelia happens to be entertaining herself throughout the day, I can do small things then too, but that's pretty hit or miss.
And forth, I would like to exercise more. I have been going to yoga much more often and even running, although that's more sporadic. In June I am going to try to do one or the other every day.
It will be interesting to see how this goes, since I often don't feel like writing until everything is neat. And the truth is I really hate running. On top of all that, we are spending most of June 1st on a plane. So we'll see.
In the manuscript class I just finished, the instructor talked a lot about closure, about the importance of finishing a project, even if it wasn't as perfect as you'd hoped. The great thing about letting something go, he said, is that you get to see what you're going to do next. The month of May was for me a definite time of closure--I sent the manuscript off, I weaned Amelia--so I feel that this summer is a kind of beginning. All this reminds of some lines from a poem by T.S. Eliot:
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.
Beginning or end, I am excited to see what happens next.
Showing posts with label Labor and Delivery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Labor and Delivery. Show all posts
Monday, May 30, 2011
Thursday, October 22, 2009
A Baby Story, Part 2
Amelia is in her Ergo carrier, grunting and sucking the side of her hand, as I write. We'll see how long this lasts.
So, we got to the hospital. Dean parked in the circle in front of the hospital. He kept moving the car. Finally we got out and walked to the elevators they had told us about on the tour. The front desk called Dean over, though, to get a visitor's pass. They said I didn't need one (haha--I was not in the mood to joke.) I was not in terrible pain but I wasn't feeling great, either. When we got up to the maternity floor we had to wait in line behind another pregnant woman to check in. In the meantime 3 or 4 more pregnant women came in right behind me. The day before had been a full moon so maybe that had something to do with it? It was interesting, despite the contractions I was having, to see the different pregnant women as we waited to go back to triage. One woman was sitting calmly in a wheelchair--NOT something I felt like doing. I was standing up and occasionally squatting or leaning over this little end table near these people who were, I assume, waiting on someone they knew to have a baby. They were not smiley or friendly to me, which I thought was very rude. Then one woman came in crying, with a friend who called out, "She's seven and a half months and in a lot of pain!" I worried for her. I thought they should let her go in before me, but soon I was called back.
They put me in a little curtained area. I could hear someone throwing up. It was very surreal at that point. I got changed into the hospital gown and on the table. I just wanted someone to check me and tell me I was 8 cm dilated so I could go have the baby.
But first, they took my blood pressure.
The nurse said, "Your blood pressure is really high!" and walked out of the room.
I was unconcerned by that, as I was preoccupied with when they were going to check my dilation. But Dean said that announcement really scared him. The nurse came back and took my blood pressure several more times. (Eventually she did check--I was 5 cm dilated.) Dr. Footer, my doctor, was called. The nurse put a saline IV in, explaining that they would probably put me on magnesium sulfate. I sort of argued that maybe didn't need the IV but she would have none of it. Eventually they wheeled me back to the delivery room.
Things get sort of fuzzy in my memory, timewise, but the gist of it is I had preeclampsia. This is after nine months of totally normal blood pressure. Sadly, I learned I not only had to be hooked up to the IV for the whole labor, but that I couldn't move around at all, due to the blood pressure issue. So I got in the bed.
Eventually Dr. Footer came in. He explained a bit more about the medicine, the magnesium sulfate or "mag," as they call it. It does not lower your blood pressure but prevents the side effects of high BP, such as seizures. (Fun!) He said it might make me "a little out of it." (Ha! The next day I could barely see. But more on that later.) In the meantime he said he knew he wasn't supposed to ask about pain medication but... maybe I wanted an epidural? I remember saying it was okay if he asked, as my birth plan was pretty much a piece of humor writing by then. I asked when would be too late to get the epidural, and he said he had given them up to 9 cm. So I decided to wait and see how it went.
Thus began (or continued, I guess) the endurance test that is labor. I was hooked up to a fetal monitor, which allowed everyone else (Dean, the nurses, the doctor) to see when a contraction was coming. I of course could feel them coming but a few times they could tell before I did, which got on my nerves. Every time one came Dean would remind me to breathe and as they got more painful, I started turning to the side and gripping the handle on the bed. Also Dean's hand and arm. (I thought he would be bruised but he wasn't.) I did the huff-puff fast breathing through the worst parts. The hardest thing was not pushing during the most intense part of the last contrations. I wanted to push but wasn't dilated enough.
The labor is hard to write about because my memory of it is almost totally visceral. It was very, very intense. The height of the contractions were very painful. It's hard to describe, though. It was kind of like being washed up in ocean waves. Something way more powerful than yourself taking over your body. There was little thinking (if I had been thinking, I probably would have asked for an epidural.) It was a very "being" experience.
The worst part was definitely the end of the contractions right before they told me I could push. Pushing was a huge relief. At this point they kept saying the baby was almost there. Apparently they told my mom and Luli (who kept sneaking back to the delivery room and getting kicked out by the nurse) it would only be 20 more minutes once I began pushing.
It was not to be. I think I started pushing at 7:30 and Amelia was born at 10:16 PM. It was tiring. They kept telling me to push 3 times with each contraction, but by the 3rd push I was out of energy. I think I would have done better with one long push, and my birth plan DID say I wanted to push on my own, but at that point I was just doing what they told me to do. After awhile I got worried Dr. Footer was only going to let this go on for so long. In fact, the contraction before Amelia came, he said we would need to consider an episiotomy if she didn't come soon. But I pushed hard with the next one and she came. I think he would have tried the episiotomoy, then soon wanted to do a c-section. But luckily, we didn't have to worry about that! She came in the nick of the time. And mom and Luli had sent Heather back to spy at that point, so she got to hear Amelia being born.
Once she came out it happened very fast. It was like her head came out and then the rest of her body just slipped out so easily. Dean said "Look!" (I had my eyes closed. At one point they gave me a mirror but I could see so little of her head that I did not find it encouraging at all.) I opened my eyes and there she was! They put her on my belly for just a second. Dean and I stared at each other in a kind of shock. I touched her and got the vernix all over my hand. Then they whisked Amelia away.
In the meantime I delivered the placenta, which was very easy. They threw it away before I could see it--Dean said it was not worth seeing but I had wanted to see it. Then I got some stitches while they did the usual baby things to Amelia (her Apgar score was 9.9). They did that kneading thing to my belly, which was uncomfortable, but not as bad as I'd dreaded. Finally they brought Amelia back to me, someone showed me how to nurse, and she was sucking away as Jim and Luli and mom and Heather came back to meet their new granddaughter/niece.
My baby has been very patient, and I am going to let her out of her carrier now. Soon we'll get part 3, the story of our FOUR NIGHT STAY at the hospital.
So, we got to the hospital. Dean parked in the circle in front of the hospital. He kept moving the car. Finally we got out and walked to the elevators they had told us about on the tour. The front desk called Dean over, though, to get a visitor's pass. They said I didn't need one (haha--I was not in the mood to joke.) I was not in terrible pain but I wasn't feeling great, either. When we got up to the maternity floor we had to wait in line behind another pregnant woman to check in. In the meantime 3 or 4 more pregnant women came in right behind me. The day before had been a full moon so maybe that had something to do with it? It was interesting, despite the contractions I was having, to see the different pregnant women as we waited to go back to triage. One woman was sitting calmly in a wheelchair--NOT something I felt like doing. I was standing up and occasionally squatting or leaning over this little end table near these people who were, I assume, waiting on someone they knew to have a baby. They were not smiley or friendly to me, which I thought was very rude. Then one woman came in crying, with a friend who called out, "She's seven and a half months and in a lot of pain!" I worried for her. I thought they should let her go in before me, but soon I was called back.
They put me in a little curtained area. I could hear someone throwing up. It was very surreal at that point. I got changed into the hospital gown and on the table. I just wanted someone to check me and tell me I was 8 cm dilated so I could go have the baby.
But first, they took my blood pressure.
The nurse said, "Your blood pressure is really high!" and walked out of the room.
I was unconcerned by that, as I was preoccupied with when they were going to check my dilation. But Dean said that announcement really scared him. The nurse came back and took my blood pressure several more times. (Eventually she did check--I was 5 cm dilated.) Dr. Footer, my doctor, was called. The nurse put a saline IV in, explaining that they would probably put me on magnesium sulfate. I sort of argued that maybe didn't need the IV but she would have none of it. Eventually they wheeled me back to the delivery room.
Things get sort of fuzzy in my memory, timewise, but the gist of it is I had preeclampsia. This is after nine months of totally normal blood pressure. Sadly, I learned I not only had to be hooked up to the IV for the whole labor, but that I couldn't move around at all, due to the blood pressure issue. So I got in the bed.
Eventually Dr. Footer came in. He explained a bit more about the medicine, the magnesium sulfate or "mag," as they call it. It does not lower your blood pressure but prevents the side effects of high BP, such as seizures. (Fun!) He said it might make me "a little out of it." (Ha! The next day I could barely see. But more on that later.) In the meantime he said he knew he wasn't supposed to ask about pain medication but... maybe I wanted an epidural? I remember saying it was okay if he asked, as my birth plan was pretty much a piece of humor writing by then. I asked when would be too late to get the epidural, and he said he had given them up to 9 cm. So I decided to wait and see how it went.
Thus began (or continued, I guess) the endurance test that is labor. I was hooked up to a fetal monitor, which allowed everyone else (Dean, the nurses, the doctor) to see when a contraction was coming. I of course could feel them coming but a few times they could tell before I did, which got on my nerves. Every time one came Dean would remind me to breathe and as they got more painful, I started turning to the side and gripping the handle on the bed. Also Dean's hand and arm. (I thought he would be bruised but he wasn't.) I did the huff-puff fast breathing through the worst parts. The hardest thing was not pushing during the most intense part of the last contrations. I wanted to push but wasn't dilated enough.
The labor is hard to write about because my memory of it is almost totally visceral. It was very, very intense. The height of the contractions were very painful. It's hard to describe, though. It was kind of like being washed up in ocean waves. Something way more powerful than yourself taking over your body. There was little thinking (if I had been thinking, I probably would have asked for an epidural.) It was a very "being" experience.
The worst part was definitely the end of the contractions right before they told me I could push. Pushing was a huge relief. At this point they kept saying the baby was almost there. Apparently they told my mom and Luli (who kept sneaking back to the delivery room and getting kicked out by the nurse) it would only be 20 more minutes once I began pushing.
It was not to be. I think I started pushing at 7:30 and Amelia was born at 10:16 PM. It was tiring. They kept telling me to push 3 times with each contraction, but by the 3rd push I was out of energy. I think I would have done better with one long push, and my birth plan DID say I wanted to push on my own, but at that point I was just doing what they told me to do. After awhile I got worried Dr. Footer was only going to let this go on for so long. In fact, the contraction before Amelia came, he said we would need to consider an episiotomy if she didn't come soon. But I pushed hard with the next one and she came. I think he would have tried the episiotomoy, then soon wanted to do a c-section. But luckily, we didn't have to worry about that! She came in the nick of the time. And mom and Luli had sent Heather back to spy at that point, so she got to hear Amelia being born.
Once she came out it happened very fast. It was like her head came out and then the rest of her body just slipped out so easily. Dean said "Look!" (I had my eyes closed. At one point they gave me a mirror but I could see so little of her head that I did not find it encouraging at all.) I opened my eyes and there she was! They put her on my belly for just a second. Dean and I stared at each other in a kind of shock. I touched her and got the vernix all over my hand. Then they whisked Amelia away.
In the meantime I delivered the placenta, which was very easy. They threw it away before I could see it--Dean said it was not worth seeing but I had wanted to see it. Then I got some stitches while they did the usual baby things to Amelia (her Apgar score was 9.9). They did that kneading thing to my belly, which was uncomfortable, but not as bad as I'd dreaded. Finally they brought Amelia back to me, someone showed me how to nurse, and she was sucking away as Jim and Luli and mom and Heather came back to meet their new granddaughter/niece.
My baby has been very patient, and I am going to let her out of her carrier now. Soon we'll get part 3, the story of our FOUR NIGHT STAY at the hospital.
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