Friday, March 27, 2015

Parenting a Newborn After Loss

Life with a newborn is intense. There is the lack of sleep, the breastfeeding struggles, the post-pregnancy hormones... Not to mention the overwhelming realization that life will never be the same. A new person has joined the family. A person who determines our schedule for us, needs our love and attention (almost constantly) and decides how much time we get to spend as a couple. For me, that last thing has been the hardest. Grieving the loss of Anya brought Alex and I closer together than ever. We became each other's solace and gave each other a reason to keep going. I have had to grieve the loss of most of that one-on-one time together. 

With all these changes and adjustments, I haven't been immune to bouts of uncontrollable crying and the baby blues. I admit, I have asked myself, What were we thinking? What did we get ourselves into? The first couple of weeks have been really tough... and that's a normal part of the post-partum period for many moms. The tricky part is allowing myself to feel that way. After losing Anya and knowing for certain how much I wanted a baby, it is difficult not to feel guilty about those feelings. But I remind myself that these feelings are normal and human. And I let the feelings come anyway. 

Between the fatigue and the tears, the moments of love and joy shine through. And slowly, the good moments are outnumbering the hard ones. I am gaining confidence and starting to find my footing. I can see the future of our little family start to come to life before my eyes.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Our Second Birth Story

About a week before it happened, we knew when William would be born: March 12, 2015. It's quite a feeling, knowing that your child would be coming into the world "next Thursday". We knew it as a fact for a few days. Then, on the Wednesday, it wasn't looking so certain - the list of inductions, after all, can only function based on the hospital's availabilities, and it wasn't looking like they'd be able to fit us in. And so, we prepared for a Friday birth instead.

Until we got a call late in the evening, telling us to come in the morning after all.

We woke up on a beautiful Thursday knowing that this was the day (if we were lucky, and the labour was quick) that we would get to meet our son. There was a splendid, clear blue sky. It was a bit cold. And at around 9 AM, we left our home ready to become parents again.

Certain drives in life are a little bit scarier than most. This was one of them for me, I admit, though, that it's a lot less nerve-wracking when your spouse is not in active labour.

Shortly before 10AM, we walked in to the hospital. I remember thinking this is it. Kayleigh's sister Sarah was already there, and we made our way to the birth centre. The first step before an induction is to monitor the fetus for 30 minutes. And so, Kayleigh was hooked up in an examination room, and we heard the fast beating of William's heart, like a galloping horse, for just over half an hour. Our doula Victoria arrived, and a short time later, we were brought into the room that Kayleigh would give birth.

This is it! I kept thinking. 11AM went by, and no one was available to be with us just yet. Then came noon. Then 1. We paced around, chatted, had some lunch. Our spirits were good, but anxious to get started. It was terrific to have Victoria to explain to us the ins-and-outs of the hospital setting, and absolutely relieved quite a bit of anxiety. Finally, around 2PM, they were ready to start.

First came the fetal monitoring again. It was another long half hour. The doctor explained to us how inductions usually work - a medication needs to be used to dilate the cervix, allowing him to get in there with a hook to break the water / membrane.  This process could be very quick or very long (sometimes over 24 hours). Before starting this medication, he did an inspection. And to everyone's surprise, he asked for a hook.

Kayleigh was already at 4cm. And so it began. The nurses installed monitors to continuously read William's heartbeat. This was important to me, to us, but I can't tell you how much I came to hate them. A move from either mommy or baby could displace them enough to stop reading the heartbeat, which made me panic every time.

The contractions came gradually. They were manageable at first, with Kayleigh taking them in stride. I lost track of time, but it escalated from there fairly rapidly. Me and Victoria were taking turns applying pressure points.

Pressure points didn't seem to be enough after a little while. Kayleigh hopped in the bath. The pain was visibly becoming more and more intense. More intense than I had remembered Kayleigh feeling during Anya's birth. To see her in so much pain was really heartbreaking.

That pained look on her face, compounded with the fetal heart monitor that kept losing the heart beat, was enough to bring my anxiety to heights that I hadn't felt in over a year.

I stepped out of the bathroom a couple of times to take a few deep breaths and calm myself. Kayleigh was in good hands with Victoria. I remember thinking in that moment that hiring a Doula was the best possible thing we could have done. And I was equally thankful for having Sarah there to help me take a breath and calm down.

I stepped back in. Those minutes of pain in the bath felt like hours. But before you knew it, Kayleigh felt like she had to start pushing.

She went out of the bath, to the bed, and the doctor inspected her - She was at 9.5cm (10 cm being the target before she can start pushing). She tried her best, but it was easy to see that asking her not to push was like asking the impossible. But she kept trying.

After another few minutes that felt like an eternity, they were finally ready for her to push. At this point, they had replaced the monitors on Kayleigh's belly with monitors attached to William's head. So we could finally be assured that everything was accurate. Except when she started to push, his heart beat started to drop. More than it should. Below 90 beats per minute. The doctor told us that they would need to use the vacuum to get him out quickly.

At this point, I had almost convinced myself that this was looking like a repeat of last time. I really started to lose it. My wonderful wife somehow even found a moment to be worried about me. I had never been so scared in my life.

The vacuum didn't work on the first try, but on the second, here he was. At 6:51 PM. Crying. Loudly. Like me.

I went from feeling the scariest moment in my life to the happiest, just like that. What a beautiful sound. What an incredible moment. Together at long last.






Saturday, March 7, 2015

Countdown to the Birth of a Mother... Take 2

In 5 days or so, if all goes as planned, my labour will be induced.

Alex and I are taking the time to appreciate one last quiet weekend at home. Really, we would do without the extra sleep and jump into parenthood right this moment, if it weren't for the fact that each day in the womb allows William to grow bigger and stronger, preparing him for the challenge that lies ahead.

To me, the experience of childbirth is as much an emotional rite of passage as a physical challenge. Not only is it the birth of a baby, but the birth of a mother. Yes, in some ways, I am already a mother... but with William's birth I will become a mother again.

William's birth will be a very different from Anya's. The setting will be different: this time we are choosing to give birth at the Montfort Hospital. The use of medical technology will be increased: labour will be medically induced and William's heart rate will be monitored constantly. But most notably, Alex and I are different: Anya's death has transformed us, for better or worse... for better and worse. We love more heartily and appreciate life's gifts with ease. Yet we worry more quickly, and as parents we will have to fight the urge to be overprotective, so William might make mistakes, learn and flourish. Anya's death is not William's burden to bear.

I am planning for a natural birth; by this I mean I am not planning on an epidural or any other anesthesia to manage labour pains, unless this becomes medically advisable. This is important to me, as I want to fully be part of and share in this birth with William. I want to feel my body and feel William being born. I want to be fully present to each moment of his birth.

Yet beyond this aspect, my views of birth as a natural part of life have shifted. For countless women, birth is a physiological part of life. Their bodies can give birth to healthy babies without medical intervention. I don't know if this will be the case for me, so constant vigilance will be key... if William shows any signs of distress, I am ready to put my faith in the medical professionals who will surround us.

There is still so much we don't know about fetal development and birth. I didn't know this the first time I was pregnant. I had naively assumed that in the 21st century, childbirth was something we had down pat.

If signs of risk or distress arise, the doctor on call will make the best decision he or she can, with the information and experience he or she has. I know, from our experience with Anya and the past 37 weeks of William's gestation, that medical science isn't perfect. Doctor's don't all have the same opinions or approaches, but - like midwives - they are all educated professionals who have chosen to dedicate their careers to the well-being of mothers and babies.

I am not planning on a c-section, though many have asked us this question. This isn't a question of selfishness or pride. A c-section is not currently medically advisable in my case. Vaginal births are usually safer for mother and baby, though when risk factors or signs of distress arise, the balance of risks shifts and c-sections can become the best course of action.

If medical interventions, beyond the induction and planned monitoring and vigilance, become necessary I am prepared to let go of my planned natural birth and give William his best chance. Any mother faced with such a situation would be. But I know it will be scary, and it will hurt, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Though all that really matters to me is that William gets to come home, healthy and thriving, I would be sad to have him torn from me by a doctor, rather than gently bringing him into the world myself. The scar that would have to heal would be both physical and emotional. But that is OK.

We all want healthy births and healthy babies. That doesn't mean each person's experience of childbirth - each mother's hopes and dreams for the birth of her baby - will follow the same path. There is no single right way to give birth. An anesthetic-free birth isn't better than an epidural, a vaginal birth isn't better than a c-section. Each choice, each birth is as unique as mother and baby. As are all the choices we make every day of our lives.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Planning for Panic

William is almost here. I can see the finish line. Today marks 36 weeks and 2 days. Anya was born at 37 weeks and 2 days. I feel excited, but at the same time, the next few weeks are daunting, to say the least.

Past experiences tend to dictate your expectations when faced with the unknown. The second time you drive a car is a bit less scary than the first time - unless, of course, you got in a major collision the first time. In that case, I imagine you would be scared shitless. But you can mitigate that a bit, at least, by sticking to a safer environment - a parking lot, or a quiet street.

I'm not going to have a parking lot to practice in.

William's birth will happen whether I am ready for it or not. I might be just fine and able to give Kayleigh all of the support that she needs - but there's a very real chance that I won't. That's how we're approaching this birth: on the assumption that I will be completely useless.

In a way, this mindset relieves some anxiety, by forcing us to get other help. We've hired an excellent doula, who will be able to give Kayleigh all of the help that she might need. We'll also have Kayleigh's sister to lend a hand.

Looking at the birth in a more selfish way, though: there's only so much planning that can actually help me. Even if I know all of the meditative calming techniques on the planet, I can't know whether I'll know how to use them when I need them. Anxiety tends to prevent me from thinking correctly. There's no magic one-time drug I can take (or at least, not one that wouldn't make me drowsy). I might be in a state of complete panic, and unable to do anything about it.

But I will get through it one way or another. I know, deep down, that William will be fine. I just don't know that I'll be able to hold on to the comfort of that thought. As someone who likes to be in control, that scares me.

And at the end of the day, I am not the one having to give birth. I am not the one who will be born. Compared to what could happen to those two, my fears seem a bit trivial. I can only hope that I will be able to give my wife and son all of the help and attention that they deserve.