The Beginning's End

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." -Semisonic

Tomorrow morning the birth center where my children were both welcomed to this world will close.  They will still have appointments there at the clinic, but the actual birth rooms will no longer be used. They have opened a new "Midwifery Center" at the hospital for the midwives where that will focus on low-intervention, physiological birth. They will still allow water births and families will be able to go home after 4 hours, just like they could at the birth center. They have real beds instead of hospital beds, and the requisite family waiting area and kitchenette.  All of the boxes are checked and it should be just the same, only in the hospital. 

But it's not the same.  It looks like a hospital, it feels like a hospital.  It is sterile.

About a decade ago, before we were able to even seriously consider having babies, A was perusing my copy of "Our Bodies, Ourselves" and read about births attended by midwives, home births, and free-standing birth centers. Being raised by a mother who had a home birth and avoided doctors when at all possible, my response to her exciting new knowledge was probably somewhere along the lines of "Yeah, so?"  Her next tidbit was that there was a birth center less than a mile from us.

I remember being more freaked out that she looked this up than excited, we were still years away from being able to start a family.  However, we both established well-woman care there so we could get a feel for it and start meeting the midwives. They were lovely, and we were sure this was the place for us.

Fast forward to 2012, we finally had conceived E and we were nervous and excited to start our prenatal visits and centering classes.  Since we had been foster parents, we had already had a taste of the marginalization same sex couples face as parents, but we weren't prepared for the onslaught that came with being pregnant.  The birth center was our haven.  We knew we would be included and valued.  We knew that our care providers would make an effort to use language that was respectful. When they didn't know they best way to talk about something, they would ask instead of being awkward and uncomfortable or downright insulting. We could have conversations and were empowered to be in control our health instead of just being told what to do. It was refreshing.

When we finally were able to tour the birth rooms, they were each carefully decorated in a different style and we fell in love with the blue room. That September, we welcomed E to the world surrounded by strength and love.

When it was time for A's pregnancy with C, we couldn't wait to get to know our new Centering class and be surrounded by this wonderful community once again.  This time we would regularly have to go back to a birth room to check A's blood pressure, it seemed to get stage fright. Often we would end up in the green beachy room, and decided that would be where C was born.

Since then I have been able to be involved on the community advisory board and my friendship and respect for this amazing group of strong women only grows.  As we learned about the plans to close, I was shown the true depth of spirit they have poured into the birth center.  My own sadness and nostalgia were nothing compared to the fierce protective force they showed as we tried to save it.

The new hospital unit is a welcome addition to the options for birth in Tucson.  But it also marks the end, because with this new door opening, the closed doors in its wake are being glossed over and brushed aside. Not only to the parents who do not want to be in a hospital when to meet their child for the first time, but to those nurses and midwives who searched out the birth center as the model they believed in and would dedicate themselves to. There are many of these women that I now consider my friends. It is for them that I mourn.

This space was made sacred as it bore witness to babies taking their first breaths. To mothers' blood, sweat, and tears.  To growing families. To the midwives and nurses who calmly supported each birth, giving away a little bit of themselves with each long night and beautiful new beginning.

Today marks a different sort of new beginning. I hope that, in time, the new space will have the quiet, heavy feel of a sacred space. A place where time seems to stand still.  Waiting for that next new beginning.

Dear grieving mother

Dear grieving mother,

You don't know me. You would pass me in the hallway and never know who I am, but I might know you by your tearstained face, your hollow eyes, your not-quite-shrunken postpartum belly and your empty arms.

Your baby died. I'm so sorry.

I don't know anything else about you or your family or your situation, but I know your name because it was on your baby's toe tag, body bag and death certificate.

You see, after your precious little one passed away or was born still, he came through my morgue. The funeral home you carefully chose to use to try and say goodbye to him came to the hospital to collect his body, and I was in charge of releasing him.

It's the discharge nobody wants. It's the body none of us wish to have to release.

Your daughter looked so perfect, wrapped up in her blanket inside a body bag. She could have been sleeping. The way she had her hand curled up close to her face and her delicate little eyelids reminded me so much of my own daughter when she was born. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the pain grip my heart, knowing that what you're going through is a million times worse, and hoping that for maybe an instant your grief let up just a touch while I carried it for you.

I want you to know that I softly traced his cold cheek with my fingertips and gently ensured that the tag encircling his wee ankle matched the name on the outside of the body bag before tucking him back in. I smoothed his hair back and sent out thoughts of peace for his soul.

I want you to know that although you don't know me, and I don't know you - our lives touched for a moment. Your daughter was cared for gently and respectfully, and for the few minutes that she was my charge, I loved her. I loved her deeply, and in the same way, I loved you as well.

I can't do anything to bring back your precious child, but I thought maybe it might bring a few seconds' respite to the unending pain you're living through now to know that someone else, a stranger, was also touched by your baby and your grief.

I'm so sorry.

Love,
your local hospital's pathology tech

How Do You Due?

Tomorrow is my official "Due Date".  Really it is called your estimated due date or EDD. I have decided that having a due date is just cruel and they should be done away with completely.

"How do the estimate it?" You may ask.  There are many ways.  

1- The most basic is 40 weeks from the first day of your last period.  There are many problems with this.  It assumes conception occurs on day 14 of a 28 day cycle.  It is common to have bleeding in pregnancy that can be mistake for a period.  Some women just don't keep that good of track. 

2- 38 weeks from conception. Yeah, most people don't know this one. Fresh swimmers can live for up to 5 days in ideal conditions and an egg can live about 1 day, so sex isn't even a real indications. However, if you are like us and using a frozen donor and tracking a million different signs, you may actually know this. 

3- Ultrasound dating. The earlier the better.  They measure different things depending on how far along you are.  At the 20 week anatomy scan I believe it is based on femur and head measurements. (Late ultrasounds can be off on estimating weight by up to 2 lbs either directions! Yikes!)

So, you can have many due dates.  These are ours (corresponding to they way they were determined):

1- August 27th

2- August 31st

3- August 30th

Notice how none of those are tomorrow?  The midwives have a little wheel that they can put in a date for the first two options and it will tell them the EDD.  This wheel, however, doesn't have leap years, so we got an extra day. So yes, we have 4 due dates because we are just that awesome!

We are okay with the extra day because if you go past 41 weeks you are considered past term and become high risk which means no birth center birth.  As it turns out, most births occur after their EDD (I believe 60-65%, depending on your source). Only around 3% actually happen on it. Although with 4 option, our chances may be higher.

This brings me back to why they should do away with due dates.  After your EDD is calculated they count backwards 40 weeks and that marks the beginning of your pregnancy (so yes, you are pregnant for two weeks before conception.  Scandalous, right? It created a lot of controversy with recent abortion legislation, but that is a whole different can of worms).  You are considered "Full Term" from 37-41 weeks.  So you are actually "due" for almost a month.  Having a specific date just makes average babies seem early or late and average pregnancies seem short or long.  Even with this knowledge, I have September first in my head as when everything needs to be done, rather than when she was actually full term.  It is very hard to not fixate on the date.

Lately I have be extra sensitive about this because everyone's new favorite follow-up to "When are you due?" is "Are you going to be induced?"  Um... no.  Why would I? She will come out when she is ready! Convenience inductions are leading to more and more babies being born pre-term. Even with 3 ways to calculate the due date, sometimes the doctor is just wrong. On top of that, induced labors can be much more  intense and carry more risk that spontaneous labors. She will come out when she is ready!

As the last of my 4 due dates approaches, it is becoming harder and harder to remember that.  Repeat it with me: "She will come out when she is ready!"  This doesn't mean that every night that I am woken up by a contraction I'm not disappointed when it is the only one. Lately I'm even more disappointed when I'm woken up and I don't have a contraction! It doesn't mean I'm not ready and A isn't ready and our families aren't answering phone calls with "Are you in labor?!" We are all ready, but it isn't up to us!

I always told myself she would probably come after her due date and I was prepared for that.  Until 2 weeks ago.  That was the first time I woke up with a contraction that wasn't the same as a Braxton-Hicks.  It was followed by lots of nesting and the dog following me around looking worried all weekend. I felt like she just may be coming sooner than we thought.  However, here I am, still pregnant and trying to get back in the mindset that she may spend another week in there (hopefully not more...).

With that said, our fingers are crossed that our Little Evie will make her grand appearance tonight, because how awesome would it be to tell her she was born on a Blue Moon?  

Here are some pictures of the moon from last night-

And here is my 39 week photo.  In the nursery with the full moon/owl night light my mom made-

I have a midwife appointment in 2 hours, so maybe they will have some good news, but most likely they will just say I shouldn't gain any more weight and that everything else is normal. Very exciting.

Rough Night

Just wanted to write a quick post about our adventures last night. It was scary, but everything seems to be fine now.

Right after I got home from work, I was going outside to check the mail.  The dog decided to follow me out (which he is well trained not to do).  I told him to go back in and he didn't so I turned to get him and take him back inside.  Evidently I moved too fast and lost my footing which made me tumble forward.  I really don't know how it all happened, it was too fast.  I took most of the force on my right hand and left knee, and somehow really hurt my ribs.  I did get my belly a bit which sent me into a nice long Braxton-Hicks contraction.

I stumbled inside and collapsed on the couch while I remembered how to breath and took inventory of my injuries.  My belly finally relaxed and the baby started kicking after a little while.  I texted A to let her know what happened and decided to wait to talk to the midwife until I was at our Centering Class later in the evening.

When it was our turn with the midwife I told her what happened.  She listened to the baby's heartbeat, which was normal and told me what their procedure was for belly trauma.  Since my belly didn't take the worst of the fall she wasn't sure if I could get away with skipping all the extra tests and had me talk to the other midwife at the clinic.  The second midwife said we should go to the hospital for monitoring, just in case.

The next 4 hours were spent at the hospital. The baby really didn't like the hours of doppler and kept kicking the monitor and moving so it wouldn't pick up her heartbeat. They also decided I needed to go ahead and get a RhoGAM shot since my blood is Rh negative even though the midwife though I could wait until the normal 28 weeks.  Once I finally had the shot we had a quick ultrasound to check fluid levels (which were perfect), and went on our way. 

Since then I have been quite sore and having more contractions than normal, but they aren't often or regular enough to raise any red flags.

So yeah, nice way to ring in the last trimester (which starts on Saturday)!