Tuesday, September 27, 2011

2 weeks postpartum



Aedan is 2 weeks old today! We also had our first real snowfall today, which I've been secretly anticipating. The ground and the spruce trees are all dusted in white, and there are still little flakes falling.

Back to the baby. He's a pretty wonderful little guy. He's beginning to have more periods of wakefulness. This morning I had him lying on the sheep skin, where he waves his arms and legs around a lot -- just starting to discover that he's got a whole wide world to explore with those limbs! He does lots of looking around, too. He kept craning his neck towards the window, where we could see big, fat flakes of snowing coming down. I flipped him on his tummy for awhile, too. He's already able to lift his head for short periods of time, and he even rolled over! I think it was a fluke, though. We were both pretty surprised.

I'm starting to get the hang of this new home-life. I spend lots of time laid back on the couch with him on my chest, nursing and napping and reading. I'm reading my first ever e-book right now, Elizabeth I by Margaret George. I thought I'd hate an e-reader but I actually quite like it. It makes reading an almost 800 page book with one hand a breeze, that's for sure!

I keep reflecting on how everything happened two weeks ago. How certain things all came together to add up to my particular birth experience. Like finding a house-sit. There is no way I would have laboured as long as I did out of the hospital if I'd been in a hotel. Actually, I think I would have been in the hospital when I first woke up with strong contractions, 10:30 on Monday night. That makes me wonder if things would have happened as fast as they did. I have a feeling that on hospital time, with cervical checks and fetal monitoring, and someone different popping into the room every 20 minutes, things might have happened at a much slower pace.

What really led me to have the experience I did, though, was Asheya's presence. Having a doula there gave me so much confidence to just trust in what my body was doing, to allow everything to progress naturally, and I think it gave P some real confidence, too. Otherwise, we both would have been bumbling around, wondering if what was happening was normal, going back and forth to the hosptial, and ultimately spending way more time there than we actually did.

Must cut my musings short...I haven't mastered the art of nursing in the Moby wrap just yet....

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Birth Story

September 9th. My "expected date of delivery". 40 weeks gestation came and went without any sign of labor. I'd already been in Whitehorse for 2 weeks. P was there, and so were my mother and my sister, Breanne. Waiting. Walking the trails in Whitehorse and waiting. With all of us being away from home, out of our comfort zones and normal routines, this waiting was brought into sharp focus. I kept thinking: a watched pot never boils.

I began to speculate that I might have a full moon baby - the moon was to be full on September 12th. Working in the service industry, I'm well aware of how people are affected differently at this particular moon phase. Women have long tracked their menstrual cycles with the wax and wane of the moon. Why shouldn't that apply to labour and delivery, too? I googled it, and found that although there is no statistical evidence to support the idea, paramedics and L&D nurses will attest to the fact that, yes, there are more babies born on and around the time of the full moon. Go into labour on the 12th, I predicted, and deliver on the 13th.

Sunday, September 11th was my 28th birthday. I woke up to a bit of a "bloody show", a sign that labour could happen anywhere from the next 24 hours to the next week. I let myself be excited, but told myself I could also be in for more waiting.


Mom and Brea and I went for a gentle hike in Miles Canyon, and sat in the sun by the river for awhile, sharing a chocolate bar and marvelling at how clear the water was. That night, the four of us went to Georgio's for dinner to celebrate. I had all my favourites and a glass of red wine, too. Afterwards, I rented "Insidious" in an attempt to scare the baby out of the womb (though, in retrospect, a movie about a little kid who's astral body is held prisoner by a demon trying to possess the boy's physical body is maybe not the best way to entice a baby into the world). Before going to bed that night, I glanced out at the full moon, shining bright in the sky, wondering what the next day would bring.

It wasn't long before I found out. I awoke around 1:30 a.m. on September 12th to mild contractions. Though it was awhile before I actually looked at a clock and timed them, they seemed to be lasting less than a minute, and happening fairly frequently. I lay in bed awhile, contemplating waking up P, breathing through each one and telling myself to relax: things were only just beginning. I decided to have a warm bath, and through each contraction I thought to myself: relax. open. I hadn't planned to use any blossoming flower visualizations, instead I wanted to just be curious about what was happening with my body. I was attentive to each sensation and wondered about the things happening inside of me. After my bath, I lay back down and rested another few hours. I wanted to see if the bath would slow things down, or if labour would continue to progress, which it did. At some point P woke up and I told him that labour had started. Just after 4 am I gave my doula, Asheya, the same head's up, made some toast for myself and, restless, began to pace around the island in the kitchen. I was holding my birth necklace in my hand, touching each bead like a rosary and thinking of the strong women in my life, of all the women who'd done this before me, who were doing it right then at the same time as me.

Asheya came to the house sometime after 8, my mom and Brea a bit later in the morning, and we all just hung out, going for short walks around the neighbourhood. Across the road from where we were staying was an abandoned R.V. park/campground. We did laps around there, going up and down a hill. At the house, I sat on a big exercise ball and rocked back and forth, while Asheya took note of each contraction, reminding me to take deep inhales and let them out slow, and to keep my mouth and face relaxed. We listened to music, Bob Dylan (my biggest craving throughout this pregnancy), Neil Young, and some peaceful, meditative recordings that Asheya brought along. Asheya massaged my feet, paying particular attention to my little toe, an acupressure point thought to stimulate contractions. She massaged my belly, and got P to do it, too. I took a few short naps. I continued to drink water and juice, and to eat light snacks, like fruit and chicken noodle soup, throughout the day.


Despite all of this, things were not speeding up. Contractions continued to last no longer than 45 or 50 seconds, and were coming 10 to 15 minutes apart. Asheya, my mom and my sister all decided to leave for awhile. After they left, I baked a chocolate birthday cake for my baby, pausing to breathe through each contraction. P and I made love, slept for an hour or so, and then went for a walk in the woods. Sometimes I thought the contractions seemed a bit stronger, but overall, I felt like there was no change. Back at "home", I lay with my head in P's lap, feeling discouraged. Asheya told me that some women can labour like this for days, and I feared that would be the case with me, too. I called mom and Brea and told them I didn't think anything was going to happen that night, that I'd call them in the morning. I called Asheya and told her things hadn't stopped, but that they certainly weren't speeding up, either. Finally, around 9 pm, I lay down to sleep for the night.

At about 10:30 that night, I woke up to a much stronger contraction. It lasted longer than they had been all day, and was followed by another one in a shorter amount of time (again, I wasn't really watching a clock). I tried to rest a bit more but couldn't sleep through them, so I got up to pace around the kitchen a little. I put on some soft nature sounds and rocked on the ball. The contractions continued at the same intensity and pace: longer, stronger and closer together. During each one I thought to myself: long and strong. Around 11:30 I called Asheya and told her I thought labour was picking up. She arrived around midnight.

I let P sleep a bit longer while Asheya and I hung out in the lamp-lit living room, me rocking on the ball while Asheya timed my contractions, which were coming every 2-3 minutes, each one just over a minute in length. The next time that I peed, there was more blood-tinged mucous. The "bloody show" continued with the contractions, at times bright red, causing me to worry a bit. Asheya called the midwife she normally works with, who assured us that everything was most likely okay. Throughout this time, I continued to feel my baby move regularly.

1:15 am. P is awake by now. I hurried to the bathroom and threw up. At this point I was feeling increasing pressure in my lower back and butt, and beginning to vocalize during my contractions. I was spending more time in the bathroom now, standing against the washing machine, Asheya behind me and massaging my lower back through contractions, helping me to rock my hips back and forth, telling me to o-o-o-pen for my baby. I was vocalizing regularly at this point, trying hard to breathe through each contraction and to stay relaxed, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The sensation of pressure was intense, and I was also starting to feel an urge to bear down through the contractions. Asheya and I figured I was most likely in transition, and she said we could go to the hospital any time I liked. I was feeling good labouring where I was, and I think at this point the contractions were happening so frequently that I couldn't imagine getting into a car.

At about 1:45, Asheya suggested I try a warm shower. This felt good, and was relaxing, but the hot water ran out before long. I got out of the shower and Asheya helped me to dry off, and I continued labouring against the washing machine. The urge to bear down was overwhelming. I remember being acutely aware of my cervix, like I could feel it stretching and opening the last few centimeters. In retrospect, I realize this was most likely my baby's head beginning to emerge. At 2:10 am, I decided it was time to go to the hospital. P grabbed our bags and called my mom and sister, and we ran out the door.

I had another strong contraction up against the car, and the fingers on my left hand got slammed in the door when it fell shut -- I hardly felt it! Asheya and I got into the back seat, with me kneeling facing backwards, Asheya always a calm presence beside me, massaging my back and reminding me to breathe. In the car, my contractions seemed to be on top of each other and I was bearing down through all of them, feeling lots of pressure in my butt and in my vagina, too. Still that strange awareness of my cervix, a feeling of being stretched.

At about 2:35 am, we pulled up to the front doors of the hospital. I looked at Asheya and said "I think I feel something coming out!" In a calm voice, she told me I was probably just pooing. "No!" I said. "I think it's the baby!" I reached into my pants to feel...I touched something warm and soft and squishy, and most definitely too large to be a poo. I asked Asheya to feel, and together we pulled my pants down a bit. "That's a head! You're having your baby!" I remember eyes: Asheya and I looking at each other, wide eyed, as we realized what was happening, and then, looking down between my legs in the dim of the car--his eyes. Seeming just as surprised as Asheya and I, big dark eyes looking back at me. With the next contraction, his body was delivered, and Asheya helped me to unzip my hoody and pull up my shirt so I could bring him up to my chest. As soon as I lifted his tiny, slippery little body, he cried. He looked healthy, and continued to cry a bit as I held him awkwardly to me.

I remember the doctors,  nurses and paramedics gathering around my door, passing in blankets to cover him. They asked me if I'd had a boy or a girl, but at this point I hadn't checked. There was some discussion over cutting the cord and whether or not I'd delivered the placenta--I had not. I told them I wanted to wait until the cord stopped pulsing, and then they clamped it and cut it. I was bleeding quite a bit, but I didn't really notice any of this. I remember smiling at P through the car window, and seeing my mom and my sister standing out there, too. And, of course, I remember this tiny, brand-new human being snuggled to my body. I remember feeling incredulous that I'd just delivered my own baby in the backseat of a car. Mine were the first hands to touch his perfect little body, I was the one who first lifted him up and held him to my breast. Writing this now, I recall all of those hippy birth stories I read in "Spiritual Midwifery", and how I giggled the women describing their experiences as mind-blowing, far-out, psychedelic head trips. And I totally understand. That was by far the biggest trip of my life.


Eventually I was transferred onto a stretcher and wheeled up to the maternity ward, my baby still on my chest. I'd had a look by then, and told everyone that I'd had a boy. In the room, I delivered the placenta. While the doctor and resident stitched up a minor tear, I held my boy to my breast, where he rooted around, nuzzling at my nipple. He made little grunts and squawks, wide eyed and alert, and around 4 am he finally latched on and breastfed for the first time. At this time I also received a shot of Pitocin in my arm, because I was bleeding enough to cause some concern for the doctor and nurse. Between the Pitocin and my baby breastfeeding, the bleeding slowed. The doctors, nurses, my mom, sister and Asheya eventually left, and P and I were finally alone to marvel at our tiny son.


Aedan Brennan Lorne McDonagh, 6 lbs, was born on September 13th, at 2:35 a.m., in the light of the full moon.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

A Feathered Reminder

Over the past few months, I've let my birdwatching fall by the wayside. When I go out walking, I rarely take my binoculars with me, and I've definitely not been on many outings with birding as the sole purpose.  But the last couple of days, the birds have taken it upon themselves to remind me of why I love this pass-time so much, of how exciting it can be to see a new species, of how much I love the sound of birdsong, and of the thrill of seeing something unexpected.

I suppose I'll start with my thrill...a few days ago, there was a female Rufous Hummingbird hanging out in our yard! I'd been having a crappy day, was overwhelmed by all of this "stuff" I felt I had to get done before leaving for Whitehorse. P finally convinced me to just sit in the sunshine and relax, and it was when I'd finally settled down to that that a tiny little bird buzzed in and out of my line of sight. I called out in surprise "a hummingbird!" but it was gone as quick as it had appeared. I was feeling it was some kind of a sign, and didn't expect a return visit, but it came and went over the next hour or so. I was able to get a good look at it perched in a slender birch tree near the porch, and P got to see it, too. The Rufous is the only hummingbird listed on the Dawson bird list, it's marked as casual,  meaning there have been at least 2 sightings, but not every year and no confirmed breeding record. She was investigating the geraniums and the fireweed, but I don't think she found much nectar there. I saw her again the next morning, flitting around, but haven't seen her since. I hope she's moved on to warmer climes!

That same day I noticed a female Three-toed Woodpecker in the yard, too. I remembered to take my binoculars on my walk yesterday and saw a male Varied Thrush--such a beautiful bird! Just now I was sitting on the porch and saw a female Yellow-rumped Warbler and a male Wilson's Warbler, as well as heard a woodpecker in the trees.

One of my favourite signs of autumn is the Sandhill Cranes heading south. I'd been wondering when we'd see and hear them take their leave, and just yesterday, over the course of the entire afternoon, I think I probably noted something like 100 of them, winging overhead. I love the sound they make as they fly, a sort of rattling "gar-oo-oo". They fly really high, sometimes too high to even see, but you can always hear that call when they pass overhead.

Have the birds begun to migrate in your area, too?

Monday, August 22, 2011

Grateful

Yesterday I said goodbye to my mom, dad, aunt and gramma, who have been visiting for the last week. I had such a wonderful visit with them, especially since I didn't have to work. In the past, I've only been able to have a few full days off to spend with them. We shared meals, went on a few small hikes, had a bonfire, listened to some live music, and just hung out! I feel so lucky to have family that make the long and costly trip up here to visit me every couple of years. I'm grateful, too, to have had the opportunity to share my chosen home with my gramma. She's in the early stages of Alzheimer's, something her mother died with. It's always been Gramma's greatest fear that she'd end up the same way, and it makes me so sad to see that fear coming true. I am thankful that she still knows who I am. Though much about her has changed, I'm thankful to still see the woman I've always known and loved shining through. Gramma has always been so full of life, so fun-loving and easy-going, with a wonderful sense of humour and she retains these traits even now. Spending time with her over the last week has reminded me how important it can be to live moment to moment. Every day is a new day for her, everything is fresh and nothing is taken for granted.

I'm also grateful that my family could be here for the baby shower my friend held for me. We had a beautiful afternoon, sitting outside in the sun (when it finally broke through the clouds). It was so nice to get together with all the women that I love, share stories and nibblies and laughter. I'd hoped to make a birthing necklace, and asked everyone to bring a special bead to contribute, but I wasn't sure how it would go over. Beads aren't the easiest thing to come by in Dawson, or so I thought...but I was pleasantly surprised at the response. Everyone had one to share! Some very beautiful beads, many of them with a story to go along. Dawson women are certainly resourceful! I've collected all the beads in a pretty little blue pouch, and I plan to make the necklace while I'm sitting around in Whitehorse, waiting for baby to arrive.

Speaking of that, I'll be 38 weeks on Friday, and I should be making my way down to Whitehorse that day or shortly after. I'm frustrated that I have to leave my home at the time when all I want is to be in it, but we don't have a midwife in Dawson and we're not "allowed" to birth our babies here. However, keeping in the spirit of gratitude, I am grateful to know that the Whitehorse General Hospital is so open to letting a woman have the birth of her choosing. I can ask to be left alone with my partner and my doula, and they'll be happy to comply. I'm also very thankful that I found a house-sit, rather than having to live in a hotel for 2 or 3 weeks. This will make the disruption in my life a little easier to bear!



Friday, August 12, 2011

Autumn approaches....

Not even the middle of August and already I see the signs of fall all around....

  • Changing foliage...on the drive to and from Whitehorse earlier this week, we saw a few birches that had gone completely yellow already. The ones around the house look like they're on the verge. The willows have been turning a burnt orange and brown for awhile now, but the colour seems deeper, somehow, these days.
  • Berries! Raspberries are definitely over, but with the temperature hovering around freezing in the early mornings, I'd guess it's almost time for cranberries and rosehips, too.
  • A definite chill in the air. I love this about autumn...especially on a bright sunny day, when the temperature is around 15 degrees C and there's a bit of a breeze.
  • Dark nights, stars in the sky, a big, beautiful full moon lighting my way to the outhouse...soon the aurora should make an appearance!
  • People working their final shifts, making plans to leave town, getting ready to go back to school...
  • Fires in the woodstove! We lit one two nights ago and are still getting some heat from it. That's the Blaze King for ya...


  • ....and, of course, the number one sign that autumn is approaching: my growing belly! I'm 35 + weeks in this photo, taken at Miles Canyon in Whitehorse. I'm getting anxious to hold my baby in my arms, to get him or her home and settled. To get bundled up and go for walks in the woods with the doggies. 

I'll be heading down to Whitehorse for my "confinement", as I like to call it, on August 29th. Holy smokes, baby'll be here before you know it!! 


Sunday, August 7, 2011

Birth plans

A couple of days ago, I sent a draft copy of my birth care plan to my doula for review. She got back to me with some really good questions and further information which has got me thinking. As I look at the plan as I'd originally written it, I realize that I made a lot of concessions, particularly when it comes to interventions like induction and pain medications.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I started reading Ina May Gaskin's book Spiritual Midwifery, which I found in a cupboard behind the bar, of all the strange places. The first part of this book is a collection of hippy homebirth stories. While at first I giggled at all the pyschedelic, far-out language, I realize now the importance of these stories. Many of the concessions I was making in my plan had to do with the "normal" progression of labour. For example "IF there is no change in dilation after 4 or 5 hours, THEN administer prostaglandin gel" or "IF I become tired during a long labour, THEN narcotics may be used". But as long as my baby and I are under no real stress, in no real danger, who is to say how long a "normal" labour should last? Those ladies giving birth in their homes 30 or 40 years ago (and the women before who gave birth in their homes, cabins, birth tents, caves...how far back do you want to go?) weren't concerned with how far their cervix was dilated and effaced, or with how they were progressing. Why should I be? Instead, I think I'd like to trust, fully and completely trust, that my body can do this, that I can do this, in my own time.

I think I'd like to defer vaginal exams during labour (or have the option to request one if I choose). I would like to be left alone, myself and my family and my doula. I don't want to have to lie down on my back and have my body invaded by a stranger every hour or couple of hours, to satisfy the doctor's curiosity regarding my cervix. I feel like this will slow things down for me. I feel like it will be akin to watching a kettle, waiting for it to boil. A watched pot NEVER boils, didn't your nana ever tell you that? If I'm not watching the clock, but rather am following my body's own rhythm and pace, I won't get to this point of feeling "stuck" in labour...I won't feel the need to request induction or pain meds.

There are so many factors that need to be considered, researched, carefully weighed before entering into a hospital birth. So many procedures that are routine and often not questioned, that I'm questioning now. Beyond my own care during labour and delivery, I'm now considering the battery of drugs and tests that could potentially be administered to my newborn baby. Vitamin K injections, eye drops, blood tests...it's good to be informed, and I'm so glad my doula got me asking more questions!

I don't have a real choice between home or hospital birth. I pretty much have to have a hospital birth because I live in rural Yukon, because midwives are not covered (I heard of one woman in town who had a home birth in Whitehorse...she had to rent out an entire B&B, rent a birth tub etc...to the tune of $10,000)....so while I must go to the hospital facility to give birth, it doesn't necessarily mean that I have to go along with all of their routines and procedures. I am in full control of this experience, and I will have the the birth experience that I desire!

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Well, it's been far too long since I've updated, but I'd like to get back into a regular habit. Mom, I'm sure that'll make you happy!

First, a quick update of the past few months. Back in April, when I last posted, I started to have a bit of a melt-down over the uncertain living situation. I felt very unsure and unsettled, and came to realize that what I really needed was a full commitment from P : namely, to be co-habiting. I reasoned that if we were going to be together and raise a child together, it only made sense to be in one place. I was reluctant to move in to his house, partly because he was reluctant to give up bachelorhood, and partly because he lives 40 km outside of town. Our closest neighbours are about a 7-10 minute drive down the Klondike highway in either direction.

We took the plunge mid-May, and things have been going surprisingly well since. P is adjusting really well to sharing his space with me. I absolutely love living out here. It's beautiful, peaceful and full of potential. I am surrounded by nature's beauty. At night I fall asleep listening to the wind in the spruce trees, or rain on the tin roof (lots of that this summer), and in the mornings I wake up to the thrushes singing in the forest that surrounds us.

Did I mention the rain? It seems that's all we've had this summer. The wild grasses are insanely high around the house....I've got plans to clear it all out and next year put in a proper lawn (which I may live to regret, but I want a soft place to lay out a blanket and play with baby!) and some gardens, too, flowers AND vegetables!

Another thing the rain has brought about in abundance this summer is FUNGUS! I took some pictures of the many kinds growing in the woods - not an easy feat with a curious puppy trailing along behind me.

Meet Pete, the newest addition to our family!


On to the fungus:



Those are just some of my favourites. I'm amazed at the variety in size, shape, colour and texture! Some of them look like coral to me, and are actually classfied as "coral fungus" in my field guide. I love to see them poking up through the detritus on the forest floor, slowly and surely nudging aside the earth and the carpet of rotting leaves and needles, unfolding in the dappled light. 

I'm not sure how I feel about the AutoCollage program, but I guess it's a nice, compact way to display a bunch of images!

Okay, enough of the computer. Time to enjoy the sunshine! So far, August has been beautiful...sunny, breezy, no rain in three days!