February 27, 2005
Will's Birth Story
This is Will eating his first birthday cake last Thursday.
It's amazing how little of his birth I can remember. I went into labor in the middle of the night, slept between contractions for some time and at some point ended up in the rocking chair. I was able to sleep between contractions while rocking for hours and hours. Every time I got up, the contractions became more intense. I called my midwife in the night just to warn her. Steve slept through the night but I wasn't too uncomfortable at that point so it was fine.
As soon as he woke up he arranged for our friend David to take Aidan to his playgroup. David ended up keeping Aidan with him until about 9:00 that night.
At some point, talking to my midwife on the phone, I decided that I was just going to have to get up out of the rocking chair if I was ever going to have the baby. I don't remember much about my labor at this point. My midwife was really not into checking dilation so I didn't have an idea of my progress for the most part. We swung a rope hammock over the beams in the bedroom and I labored holding onto it for some time. I didn't have the back labor that I had with Aidan which is quite amazing because Will came out face up. At some point it became harder to handle and it was suggested that I get into the shower. It got very very nasty at this point, I really didn't want to be in the shower, and I might have transitioned there, or straddling the toilet. I just remember that the time I spent in the bathroom was the worst and I wanted out of the whole deal. When I really felt like I couldn't bear it anymore, I made my way downstairs to get into the birthing tub. The trip downstairs was harrowing with the contractions coming on fast and strong. When we moved in there had been no railing and I was grateful for the temporary one that Steve had installed.
The tub was so heavenly, not only because of the warm water, but also because I think by the time I got into it I had transitioned and I was just about ready to push. I hadn't experienced this part of labor with Aidan and I was surprised to notice how much my contractions had slowed down. I felt very grounded and we were having these conversations between contractions about all sorts of unrelated things. I'm not sure if I ever got a realy clear urge to push, but we decided I should try it. After a few very unproductive pushes, I asked my midwife to check and make sure I was fully dilated so I wasn't wasting my energy pushing. It turned out to be a good thing because there was still a little lip of cervix and she pushed it out of the way through a couple of contractions.
I was just elated that I had made it to this point because it meant that I was having the baby at home and that I had made it past where I had gotten stuck with Aidan. I really thought I was home free because pushing with Aidan had been so easy. This turned out to not be the case and it was very discouraging. I think I ended up pushing for almost two hours. There was never any time when we were worried about fetal distress - there was no real problem, it was just slow going. Steve got in the water with me and it made it easier for me to take on different positions with his assistance. It could be that being in the water actually made the pushing harder, that gravity really would have been my friend at that point, but there is no way to know. We talked about me getting out of the tub and I couldn't fathom it. I cursed and yelled and growled and was glad Aidan wasn't in the house.
The position that ended up working for me was being basicly on my back. Even though everything you read about natural childbirth recommends against such a position, it seemed to allow the most space for the baby to come out and was the most comfortable. Steve supported me by sitting behind me and ended up being actively part of the birth.
Before Will came the midwives could see that he had red hair. He came out face up, but his neck must have been twisted because I had no back labor and we were sure we could feel his butt in the front of my belly. It was a little after 7pm. He weighed ten and a half pounds. The newborn diaper covers that I had carefully set up to put on him when he was born didn't fit him.
The labor had been really horrendous. I know I felt traumatized by it because I remember telling everyone so, but the memory is blunted.
Happy Birthday Willie. I love you.
February 23, 2005
He Was Born That Way
I wonder if it is possible to not compare the development of two kids. Will is affectionate and likes soft toys. I told people for years to not buy Aidan stuffed animals because he only played with hard things: wood, metal, plastic. Aidan was silent, so much so that I didn't mind when he cried because I got to hear his voice. Will was having babbling conversations at two months. Will is mirroring Aidan's locomotive development, a fast crawler, desperate to climb stairs and he's right on track to starting walking a couple of weeks after his first birthday, exactly like Aidan.
As I notice these things, and wonder what Willie will be like when he gets older, I've also been thinking about how these early traits have have manifested in who Aidan is today. As a toddler, Aidan would run leaning forward, as if falling and catching himself quickly with his feet. He would look like an adorarable, reckless duckling and I could pick out the distinct sound of his steps in a group of kids. He still has the same heavy step and is incapable walking quietly. He often wakes Will up simply with his footsteps. Ah, he just did it.
Aidan distressed me as a baby by refusing to eat food until he was over a year old. A mom of five boys in our homeschooling group told me once that she never gave her babies solid food before a year of age. I thought I was in good company, her family operates a sort of homestead with their own cows and chickens and I have imagined her kids to be the sort to eat carrots out of the ground. I've come to find out that they are incredibly picky eaters who would be happy to eat nothing but macaroni and cheese, very much like my dear Aidan. It makes me think that perhaps her boys and Aidan were just born picky eaters. Will is not like this at all, he eats everything, including vegetables that have never passed over Aidan's tongue.
There was an article in the last issue of Brain, Child called, "Can Parents Take the Credit, or the Blame?". It rejects the commonly held assumption that our parenting affects how our kids turn out. Before I became a parent I was sure that I could affect how my child turned out, but almost every day I have been taught lessons in surrender and chaos. I can understand when people who don't have kids argue for nurture. I did. Most parents I know will comiserate when the subject comes up. To insist on nurture in the face of opposition becomes fascism, and it seems to me that most sensitive parents recognize this.
One of my household goals this year is to finally get chickens. I am interested in Chanteclers which Mother Earth News describes as "calm, gentle and personable". When we get a dog, we will look at breeds that are good with kids and might not eat our chickens. The idea that personality traits in animals are genetic is taken for grated. It's funny that so much of our culture assumes that humans are different from other animals in this way. It gives us something to be neurotic about, a uniquely human behavior.