A Birth Story: Isaac Bright Garrison

I have birthed two babies now.  Totally different pregnancies, totally different labors, totally different deliveries.  This is the story of how my second baby, my first little boy, Isaac Bright, made his way into the world, face up.  

See the birth story of my first, Camilla Imogen Garrison, HERE.

On the evening of August 21st my contractions began to come regularly and intensify.  No longer were they the simple squeezes of a braxton hicks.  They were deeper cramps that lasted longer and wrapped around to by back.  My daughter was in bed, my mom, stepmom and little brother were all sleeping over. It was a full moon, the second time that month, a blue moon.

Under the instruction of my family doctor and my doula I knew I needed to head to the hospital soon after labor began in ernest.  My daughter, a first baby, had been a relatively fast labor - only about 8 hours of active labor, pretty fast, for a first baby.  See her birth story HERE.  I went to bed that night, but couldn't really sleep.  At 1:30 AM we  went to the hospital.  I couldn't debate when to go or not go.  I couldn't worry for any longer about leaving my daughter during the night. It was time to go.  At that point, based on my last labor and the fact that second babies usually come faster, we figured there'd be a baby sometime in the morning.  We were wrong.

When I arrived at the hospital my cervix was 3xm dialated.  My doctor was called, my doula was texted.  This was at about 2AM.  My contractions were coming ever 4 minutes, much advanced from the 8 minutes apart they had been earlier that evening.  I was surprised to hear that I was not 4cm or more.  I got worried.  I felt very tired. I don't want the hospital to send me home.  I wanted to have a baby.

So I did what so many laboring moms do: I walked.  And I walked and walked and walked and walked and walked.  I was very chipper and super friendly.  "As above, so below."  If you smile, your cervix will smile with you.  And I made a lot of friends.  The nurse, doctors, residents, medical students.  And little did I know how much I was going to need the support if these friends over the next 24 hours!

At 6AM I had been walking for four hours and hadn't slept in 24 hours.  I was exhausted and anxious.  Something felt off.  The nurses told me to rest for a couple hours and my doctor would come in to check my progress when I woke up.  I couldn't sleep.  I felt tons of psychological pressure.  I thought for sure I'd have had the baby already.  I felt rushed, like I needed to hurry up and birth and go home to my big girl.  I felt like my family was waiting in tender hooks. I felt impatient and exhausted and anxious.  My heart raced as I lay there with my eyes closed.  I breathed through contractions and talked myself down as best I could.  I knew rest was the only way is feel better.  After two hours my doctor came and checked my cervix.  4cm.  It had taken me 6 hours to dilate only ONE centimeter.  I was devastated.  But at that point the decided to admit me to the hospital.  That meant it was real.  That meant no matter how slow I felt things were going, they were still going.  I was going to have a baby!  It was the 22nd of August and I'd been in labor for 13 hours.  Chris had been there with me throughout, documenting in photos, walking the the halls and cheering me on.  We were tired and scared and in it together, with both feet.

Over the next 18 hours I pushed my body beyond what I ever could have imagined.  Most babies are in the anterior position, facing down, which allows their bodies to confirm to the shape of your pelvis, allows their chin to tuck and allows their head to squish.  See HERE for a great comparison drawing.  My son was not so cooperative.  He was completely posterior, making my labor longer, less productive and more painful.  Surprise! Second baby is easier to birth-- NOT!

 My doula, Shelley, who was with us for my first birth, arrived and together we used every prop in the hospital to try to make my contractions stronger, closer together, longer and more productive, despite his position.  We walked and did seep knee bend lunges.  We used birth balls of different shapes and sizes, positioning, nipple stimulation, massage, breathing, sifting. We talked through my emotions to see if we could clear anything that might be holding me back.  But it was painfully slow and exhausting.  The baby wouldn't descend onto my cervix.  and I needed the pressure of his head to make dilation effective.  

My knees and hands were bruised from holding on to bars and digging into beds.  Every muscle hurt. But we kept laughing, joking, smiling.  We kept chanting, through each contraction, visualizing my cervix opening like a flower, seeing the baby being pulled down, down, down.  Lynn arrived to photograph the birth.  Little did she know what a long process she has signed up for.  Lynn, Chris and Shelley took turns sleeping when possible, resting, getting water, and being amazing.  This baby would not have been delivered vaginally, without medication, if not for the relentless support of the team around me.  My amazing doctor, who stayed with is for the entire labor and trusted my body, even when I did not.  The nurses, who did everything they could to make us all comfortable and keep me and baby safe.  My husband,  who slept and ate less than I did, and probably worried more. Shelley, the doula of the year, deserves an award for her fierce commitment to women and the confidence she instills in them.  One look at her face told me there was nothing to fear.

My body temperature fluctuated.  Sweating, then to shivering so hard I was shaking.  The nurses and doctors piled warm blankets on me.  I labored for a while in the tub, the warm weather soothing my sore muscles and warming me up.  But when I tried to get out, I found my legs wouldn't hold me.  My blood pressure dropped and I shivered and shook.  Chris and Shelley, dried me, wrapped me in blankets and carried me to bed where I cried, out of fear and exhaustion, that I missed my daughter and didn't want to die in childbirth.

It turned out I had a fever, caused by something called chorioamnionitis. Essentially, an infection in the amniotic sac or fluid.  So they started me on fluids and antibiotics via IV.  After a chat with my doctor, we decided that I needed to rest before deciding any next steps.  I was physically and mentally exhausted.  I was scared of the next steps.  Scared that I wouldn't progress and would need a c section.  Scared that the pain would get too intense.  Scared of all of my options.

So we turned off the lights, my amazing nurse brought in little flameless votives, and we put on some nature sounds.  Between each contraction I slept.  I stayed calm and breathed through the contractions and went right back to sleep.  I started to feel calmer, more centered. My strength came back, I felt braver.  After about an hour and a half of rest my sense of humor came back.  My doctor came back in and asked me if I'd given any thought to what was next.  The issue at that point, at 9cm and fully effaced, was that my water hadn't broken.  Instead of baby's head pushing against my cervix, it was bouncing off the bag of waters.  Again, due to the fact that he was face up.  I decided it was time for them to manually break my water and see if it would help me get "fully" (ie fully dilated and ready to push).  I was nervous, after your water is broken contractions tend to intensify in length, frequency and pain.  But, I also knew in my gut that we had reached the moment of truth. I was as rested as I was going I get and I needed to have this baby.  

My sweet, sweet doctor explained the whole process to me and kept me calm.  At one thirty in the morning, after 24 hours of laboring in the hospital, she broke my water and then time started to speed up.  This is also when Chris had to stop taking pictures.  You'll notice a lapse in the slideshow.  Well, trust me, the next 45 minutes required all hands on deck.  Did I mention I was that deck?

Luckily for the documentation process, Lynn was there too, and she nailed it, but I am not ready to share these photos quite so publicly, yet. (Though they might get real public if the get into Lynn's piece in National Geographic...) They are super intense.  Lots of pain and blood, but also quite amazing and beautiful.  Visit sometime and we'll have a private viewing.

After my doctor broke my water the contractions intensified by one million trillion percent.  They have this terrible question they ask in the hospital all throughout labor: "If you had to rate your pain from 1 to 10, ten being most painful, what would it be."  Up to that point I answered anywhere between three and four point five.  The nurse, after asking it again, said "I don't have to ask this anymore if you don't want."  I guess she could see in my eyes (or hear in my screams) that we had zoomed past a fucking ten, straight through the teens, and were somewhere in the triple digits.  Ow. And I kept having to pee.  Which would involve monitors being detached and one of those rolling IV wheelie things and also me lumbering my exhausted, half naked, sweaty, very pregnant self across the room and then trying to pee, get up, and haul myself back across the room before another contraction laid me out.  I barely ever made it and mostly Chris and Shelly and Marge (the rockstar nurse of the end game) would have to catch me coming out of the bathroom as my legs tried to give out.  I still refused to pee in a bedpan. the last trip to the bathroom (still pregnant) was at 2:03 AM (I know because I checked the metadata timestamps on the photos).  Marge actually had to go WITH me that times as the contractions were so close together.  I also kept telling her I had to poop and she kept telling me I wasn't allowed. At the time this seemed very confusing, but by the time we made it back to the bed, I understood.  There was something I had to push out - but it was a baby.  Luckily, she understood this, and baby wasn't born in the loo.  I barely made it back to the bed before I could no longer contain the urge to push (apparently something that I didn't feel the first time around).  I started to push/scream/cry all at the same time. 

I can't really find the words to describe the pain of pushing out a posterior/face up baby.  All I know is I was in some completely awkward position as I started pushing and kind of froze in that position.  All my ideas of watching him crown in a mirror, of using the birth bar, of catching him as he emerged...well, all of those went right out the window.  All I remember is that is was very, very fast (though Chris seems to think it went slow).  With my first, I pushed for about two and half hours.  So, comparatively, these 10 minutes didn't seem long.  But boy were they intense. 

And then, after feeling like my body was ripped in half, I felt the most incredible sensation of relief and then poof!  There was a baby on my chest!  And oh my gosh in two seconds the entire world shifts.  This freaking new person, this new life, this whole ten-fingered, ten-toed wonder just CAME OUT OF MY BODY.  And I adore him.  I just do.  Strange, profound and incredible, your heart just doubles in size and your belly shrinks.

Welcome to your family, Isaac.  We were waiting our whole lives just for you.  We love you and promise to do the best we can.

---

I've read a couple other birth stories recently.  

They give me a warm fuzzy feeling.  

You can see them HERE and HERE.

Bringing Home Life & Light

On August 23rd at 2:15 in the morning my son was born. 

After nine months of pregnancy and 36 hours of unmediated labor, my life took on new meaning once again.

And now none of us will ever be the same.  

We make choices and set our intentions.  We do the best we can in the moment.  And often we are blessed by surprises.

Welcome to this life Isaac Bright Garrison.  Your family and friends are here to receive you with open arms. Teach us what you will.

So Lost the Damn Smoothie Blog Post and Then I Lost My Shit.

I suppose there are people in the world who go to sleep at night and then wake up the next morning.  That hasn't happened for me in over three years.  I was up last night (googling smoothie recipes with almond milk frozen in ice cube trays) and thinking about what this might do to my brain, this lack of sleep. 

So I got up.  And I wrote a WHOLE LONG BLOG POST about my favorite smoothies, with tips and techniques and tricks and it was so clear and awesome and then I hit the FUCKING DELETE button like an idiot. 

So, in former days I might do something like throw my computer.  But these days a I am a whole lot more in tune to the fact that the universe is whispering to me: Girl, get the eff of the computer and go live your life.   So I walked away and took some time away and come back to you now with two DOPE smoothie recipes that I have perfected in the times spent living my life OFF the computer.

Bomb Ass Not-So-Fruity Smoothie

This one will fill you up.  I swear by it when I won't get to eat for an hour (yes, I eat almost every hour.)  Also, my daughter loves it, she says it is "better than the blue one." 

1. Throw coconut flakes in any milk (almond, cow, soy). I just put it in the bottom of the blender. Add a bit of vanilla or almond extract and some cinnamon.  Then, let it sit for a bit.  I sue this time to unload the dishwasher, wipe some surfaces, make cereal for my daughter or something like that.  Efficiency, folks!
2. Then I add two whole frozen bananas (I freeze mine quartered, cut once the long way and once the short way) .  Then a heaping tablespoon of peanut butter and a bunch of plain greek yogurt.  Then a few cubes of ice and blend away!
3. Yum. 

Crunchy Fruit Smoothie

This is a pretty basic milk and fruit based smoothie.  But I decided to include it because it is a fun baseline to work with and has a couple of sweet tricks.  I think I have talked quite a bit about being a fruit hoarder, so this means I always have an ample supply of frozen fruits and as everyone knows, frozen fruit an awesome smoothie doth make.

1. Start with any milk in the bottom of a blender.  I know, I know, I am getting repetitive here, I obviously like this step.  Throw in some chia seeds (google if you don't know of what I speak).  I also like coconut flakes in here...but I just like coconut in general in the summer as it reminds me of the tropics and sunscreen.
2. Add a lot of frozen blueberries and peaches (mine I never have long enough to freeze) and greek yogurt (for protein, ya'll) and blend.  Some people choose to use a sweetener in this, depending on their fruits - If I do use something I use a spoonful of some kind of corn syrup free jelly or jam from the fridge.  Honey or agave are also fine, clearly, but I don't like agave and having a little kid has gotten me off honey.  I really like to put fresh raspberries or blackberries in this one too as it is one that makes a virtue of the drink that you must chew.

So, go make some smoothies and report back. 

 *it is fun to make jars of frozen fruit mixes and leave in your freezer.  Then dump them in to your blender in the AM and add right back to the same jar.  PRETTY THINGS!

Cranes and Cervical Effacement

It went a little like this:  

• Busted seal, cranes, replacement glass, doesn't fit, they try to make it fit, glass everywhere, 2nd replacement pane almost doesn't fit, I am praying I don't go into labor, it fits, it works, they leaves, no baby yet.

This is the building we own and currently live in.   There are five units (of which we occupy two).  I dream of the day when it is all rental income.  But in the meantime, it is mostly outflow.  Gotta love something built in 1878.  (Think new roof, widows, lead paint, old pipes and everything is uneven.)  Does this sound like work?  Is this really my hobby?  I think I need to re-define some things :)

Speaking of AMAZING house/building/project blogs.  Have you read THIS ONE?  Isn't she WONDERFUL? Her writing is hysterical and the project is fab.

Some People Nest. I Build.

When I was pregnant with Camilla I decided to build an 8 foot partition wall.  

This pregnancy I am building a house.   Well, starting, anyway. 

Am I nuts?  Quite possibly.  But I've become adjusted (mostly) to being that way.  So send me your favorite interior shots.  I am off to buy 20-something old doors.

The Hustle. (I'm a Hustler, Baby. I Just Want You to Know)

On occasion people give me shit about NOT HAVING A JOB.  

In case you are new here: I run my own consulting business (for self employed peeps), I am co-president of Wear Your Music (guitar string bracelets made from strings of famous people with profits to charity), I make and sell jewelry on the side, I run the backend of my husbands photography business , I manage a 5 unit rental property, I am building an eco-friendly kit house in the woods, I have a two and a half year old, I am 35 weeks pregnant and I have to deal with my crazy family and friends and make a living and pay bills and eat and sleep and shit and shower. . . just like everyone else.

My whole family hustles, its really the only life I know.  Above are my "little" cousins who handcraft and sell cutting boards in the shape of fish and Block Island.  One is a recent Brown graduate, watch out for what he does next.  This weekend you can find me on Block Island, selling my jewelry alongside them at two art fairs.  

So the next time it is Monday morning and I am taking a nap or picking flowers or sitting on the beach I dare you to tell me I don't have a job. 

Listening versus Hearing (or, why my house is so sandy)

I am out here on the island, eight months pregnant and on my own with a toddler and two dogs.  The dogs have been walked daily, the kid is happy and fed and lathered with sunscreen.  I've cooked all the meals and done all the dishes sans dishwasher. I feel pretty damn swell about it all.  I've even been rocking a bikini.

I am living in my dad's old house, that I grew up in, but that he no longer lives in, but his girlfriend (one of my half brother's mothers), has fixed up beautifully.   You got that?  One day I'll try to draw a family tree...(currently I keep the info HERE.)  The thing is, it has been rainy and sand seems to stick to rain.  To the dogs, to my clothes, to the kid's shoes.  And also, it is hot, which, means dogs shed.  So, the house has a slight issue with dog fur and sand that I haven't quite gotten to.

My stepmom cleans houses on Saturdays in the summer for rental turnovers.  And before her full day of work offered to come over, and clean my/her house.  She phrased it as a gesture of love, not judgement.  Isn't that sweet?

How do you offer to do something for someone, as a kindness, without seeming like you are judging their ability?

Check out the colors of the house, amazing, no?  Maybe you should have her come do your color palette for your house! Oh, and speaking of colors.  My friend of almost 20 years is giving away some of her luscious yarn, hand-dyed in Alaska, along with some other goodies. Check it out and enter HERE - it is FREE! (She also wrote soem really nice things about me HERE, gloat.)

Butterflies Abound - Transitions

So tomorrow I leave for three weeks with my toddler and two dogs to head to the beach and work remotely.  It is a wonderful luxury of my job, my self-employment status.  At the same time, it makes me crazy.  Eight months pregnant, no AC, no dishwasher, lots of sand - oh, and did I mention it is an island?  My darling husband will be away making money (which we totally need).  I have yuppie problems, and I know it.  (release guilt here)

I am preparing by purchasing my first beach chair, and I already bought some light magazine reading.  Oprah is teaching me more simple stress relief and Home and Garden suggests freezing and canning techniques for fruits. 

I am bringing lots of heavy books (like this one and this one) that I don't plan on getting to.

Transitions are always a challenge for me, and yet my life seems full of them.  I say "BRING IT!  Lots of room for practicing the skills of adaptation that I preach!"  The monarch transitions so naturally, so today, it is my inspiration.  I am off to Mexico in my mind.  

Won't you JOIN ME in exploring how to step back, bend to the seasons, and learn what you can?

Waiting

“Waiting is the hardest part...You take it on faith, you take it to the heart.”

— Tom Petty

With my first pregnancy, I had gestational diabetes.  Despite no indicators for it in my medical history, I failed all the tests and ended up eating a very strict diet and taking my blood 4 times per day for just under half of my pregnancy.  Luckily, my daughter was fine, and I had no residual complications.  

 Well, I am pregnant again.  And the chances of having gestational diabetes in a subsequent pregnancy is high, something like 85%.  So, this time around I've had to test for it twice.  And I've had to wait for the results, twice.  Man, waiting is uncomfortable for me.  My last test was yesterday and I waited all day today for my doctor to call.  I want to define what I felt when I say "waiting."  I certainly didn't sit by the phone (the phone sat by me though).  I kept busy (not too hard with a toddler and a few businesses to run). But, there was always that thought about the results circling in my mind.  And that's what I mean by waiting.  I mean my whole brain isn't present that some part of my thoughts are awaiting some future moment, and it is distracting to say the least.  

I find myself waiting a lot.  Waiting for software to upload, waiting for my daughter to fall asleep, waiting in line doing errands, waiting for the response to an email, waiting for bedtime when I can finish a good book, waiting for my husband to come back from a shoot, waiting, waiting, waiting.  Not being wholly present.  So my question started off like this:  How do I get rid of the waiting feeling?  And then I thought, "Well, the waiting feeling isn't the issue, it is the thoughts that go along with waiting: the what ifs, the future plans, the leaning away from the preset."  So, my discovery was to try to just be with the waiting, not to work on it, or through it, or get rid of it or anything.  But just to be with it.

 And guess what?  I beat the odds and I don't have gestational diabetes this pregnancy!  I am thrilled (or as thrilled as I can be at six months pregnant on a 90 degree day.) But though my appreciation of the fact that I can eat ice cream this summer is great, what is greater to me is this lesson about being with something instead of thinking about it.

So, I was waiting for test results, and it was uncomfortable.  And that's that.  I didn't have to circle though the possible outcomes and resulting questions an necessary actions.  All of that thinking was an ineffective use of my brain power.  All I really had to do was wait, and be with the waiting.  Did it change the outcome?  No, of course not.  But it did change mg experience.

Are you willing to try?

Start simple: Next time you are in line somewhere, or waiting for something or someone, try to focus just on the feeling of waiting.  Don't think about what is next, or where you could be, or what else you might be doing. Just be with the waiting and know that it is okay.