Silicon Valley Moms Blog

The Inevitable Birth Stories Discussion

Whenever a group of mothers get together, eventually the topic of childbirth comes up. I don't know what guys talk about as a group, especially in an overnight getaway type of situation - probably sports or Myth Busters and not the day his child was born - but for women, well, mothers, it inevitably comes around to our birth stories. Where your water broke and, before that, your obsession with grabbing a jar of pickles whenever you were at the grocery store so that, in the event that your water broke there in the frozen food aisle, you could accidentally drop the jar on the floor to avoid the embarrassment felt upon fluid gathering in a puddle at your feet. Not that you ever had the opportunity to do that, because your water broke, predictably, at home on your new white Pottery Barn (non-leather) couch, the one time, of course, that you neglected to put that towel down to protect it, just in case. How you had two failed induction attempts (pursued because your baby was so big), followed by a c-section, for which your husband was the one freaking out the night before, being squeemish and fearful of the sight of blood, while you - the one who was actually going to go under the knife and have the major surgery the next morning - calmed him down and then laughed when the nurses took one look at him, said "we've got one of those," and hailed a wheelchair...for HIM. Why all three of your babies - twins first who were born 9 weeks early and then a single baby who was on time, but born very ill with pulmonary hypertension - spent a month in the NICU and how you spent the dark nights during that month at home, pumping milk and, once the bottle was in the freezer for the day that your babies could actually drink that "liquid gold," calling the NICU night nurse and asking "how are they/is she doing?"

Could I have had her baby?

I have a friend who, like me, went through agonizing years of infertility. Mine ended in my son Zachary through IVF,  followed by the double whammy of my two girls conceived of naturally just 18 months a part after that.  Three babies in four years. Whew. Blessed overwhelmingness.  Hers, instead, ended in endless failed attempts at staying pregnant, and then a vigorous double pursuit of her own child by a surrogate and the adoption of a child from a foreign orphange. The surrogate backed out. The orphanage came through, twice. Two brothers they now proudly parent.

Though she was on the East Coast, she was pursuing surrogacy in California, which apparently offers more flexibility in dealing with surrogacy than her home state did. Since I was in Palo Alto, we talked frequently during her visits of her process, its ups and downs, its “gotcha’s” around every corner. The surrogate’s psychological tests weren’t favorable. The next surrogate changed her mind just before the final stages. It was in these days that my friend, hit rock bottom emotionally. It was unbelievably sad to hear how so much disappointment could be shouldered by one person, two when you include her heroic husband who weathered it all with her, in such a brief time period.

Birth Day, Adoption Day, First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

The most important day of my life.  The day my life changed forever.  The day I grew up.  The day someone else became more important than me.  The day I touched a miracle.  The day I met my daughter.  The day my step-son first called me "mom."  The day I first held that tiny little bundle.

The day my oldest son was born.

All of these phrases can describe the day a child enters your life, but none of them fully explain it, do they?  We all know that having a baby (or a child, or a toddler) really does change everything.  But it isn't something we can fully explain to the uninitiated.  Parenting is a members only club, but we have a fantastic PR machine.  Parents love to talk about their kids!

To this day, nothing can choke me up more than thinking about or describing the moment I first held each of my boys.  (Gah!  In fact, I'm getting all teary right now.)  Most parents feel exactly the same way.  So today, the moms and dads of the Silicon Valley, Chicago, DC Metro, New York, New Jersey, Fifty Something, Deep South, and LA Moms Blogs are all writing about those magical days.

Get out your box of tissues and read along with us.

This is an original D.C. Metro Moms Blog post. 

Stephanie also writes about her children, and gets all sappy and sentimental, at Lawyer Mama and writes, with almost no weeping, about politics at MOMocrats.

Birth "Wisdom:" To Stay in Control, Relinquish It

--Oh, and ignore all "wisdom" or "advice" because everyone is different--

Four years ago today, I was one day away from giving birth to my second child. I was surprisingly calm even though my first experience was rather traumatic.

Yes, I was one of those Type-A pregnant folks who thought that as long as I studied hard about the whole birth process, practiced my breathing, and read those horrible "pregnancy is so easy if you are vigilant!" books that I'd be fine.

But, as I've said many times, no matter the amount of preparation, number of birth classes, parenting books read, or your earnest nature to really "get it right," you won't. For my first child, I definitely didn't get it right. In fact, my son was born via vacuum because of "maternal exhaustion," also classified as a "failure to progress." Yes, I was exhausted and apparently failing.  My first official job as a mother (aside from taking those nasty vitamins and forgoing my beloved wine) and I was failing?

The Day You Were Born

I've read in a couple places, most recently in Writing Motherhood, that a nice tradition is to tell your kids their birth story on their birthday. I thought that was a little weird, frankly, so we just show the video. No, geez, we didn't take a video and frankly I can't imagine doing that. But suddenly it dawned on me that, since one of Keegan's favorite books to "read" at bedtime is the only baby book we ever finished, called, appropriately, "On the Day You Were Born," he might want to hear his birth story.

As an aside, what was so awesome about this book is it's like 8 pages, requires only a handful of photos and some brief information about that wonderful day. Which of course is why we managed to complete it.

Which got me thinking, I bet the kids would like to hear about their actual birth day. Who doesn't love to hear about themselves, and my kids are as self-centered as they come. So I thought, today on this Silicon Valley Moms Blog topic day, I would take a dry run on telling the story to a child of five. I've relayed the two births before, but for this version I'm leaving out the complaints.

2 Births, 4 Children

Here's a riddle - how do you have 4 kids but only 2 pregnancies, 2 childbirth stories to tell?

The answer is easy, once you consider twins and an adoption.

I've already written about how my family came together, how I don't even really remember sometimes which kids arrived biologically (never say natural to a parent who's adopted!) which didn't.  But to sum it up, fertility attempts, failure, adopt first child. Fertility attempts again, but simultaneous to trying for a second adoption.  We didn't really care which way, we just wanted one more. Took nearly 4 years but we got two when the 2nd round of in-vitro succeeded. OK, now we have 3 - 2 boys and a girl.  Sounds like a nice sized family, we figure we're done. But we get to that 4 year point, and guess what? Surprise, I'm pregnant.  Have no idea how or why.  It takes me a while to get over the shock, but my husband is elated, walking around flexing muscles because no matter how much he may have convinced himself that our inability to conceive on our own had absolutely nothing to do with his sexual prowess and masculinity, he suddenly feels more powerful than ever.  He (not me) still has that positive pregnancy test stick stashed in a drawyer nearly 12 years and 9 months later. It's a girl, now we have 2 and 2, 4 year age-gaps in between.

So all the stories are so very different.  With #1, WHO TURNS 20 this summer, we started the adoption process with an agency in February, finished up all the classes, home studies and paperwork in June. He was born on August 4th, 2 weeks after we met the birthmother (who we still are in contact with). I can almost hear the phone calls - she's in labor, then it's a boy. We went to the hospital the next day. It was a real whirlwind both logistically and emotionally when we took him home. He happens to physically resemble his brother and sisters which just tells me this is something that was meant to be. Although we joke he's much taller, much more athletic and much handier than our Eastern European Jewish genetic heritage would have let him be.

With #2 and #3, now 16, it was a relatively easy twin pregnancy even though I'm now in my late 30's. Dr. made me stop work at 6 months, then put me on full bed rest with a monitor and drugs to stop contractions at 32 weeks. That was miserable, stuck in bed with a 3 1/2 year old boy running around the house, taking medication that makes your heart race.  At one point I even got up in an odd way, pulling an abdominal muscle and added pain to the mix. Then at 35 weeks, I go to the hospital for some tests, they decide my daughter is not thriving because my son is basically hogging all the nutrients (some things don't change). So I go from labor-stopping to labor-inducing. They made me (no protests, believe me) take an epidural early because with twins they don't know if it's going to be a c-section or not.  It wasn't. The babies are born the next day, healthy but small and they have to stay in the hospital for just under 2 weeks. That was hard, going back and forth every day, caring for my older one, but eventually we all got home, even though I don't think my big guy ever really got over the shock of being king of the world to big brother of two.  To this day.

Fast forward another 4 years, to the surprise pregnancy when I'm over 40.  Again, a fairly uneventful pregnancy and I work until they have a baby shower for me that really means "Stay home now, Martha" 10 days before my due date, which turns out to be the birth date. I remember waking up that morning thinking I had my period and really bad cramps, which of course turned out to be labor. And then comes my second daughter 12 years ago and I go home still stunned that I now have 4 kids. 4 kids who have fill our house with love but are so very different in terms of interests, academics, athletics and temprament.

And it never feels boring to tell these stories.

Sex, Love, Marriage, Birth - Quick! Pick a Baby Name

I don't belong here.

A delivery room is no place for a man. Here was my wife, in obvious pain, the epidural drip little to no comfort. Nurses tended to her compassionately, the doctor was on her way. And just like Bill Cosby said about natural childbirth, all I could do was coach my wife with lamaze breathing and encourage her to push!

My wife and I subscribed to a modern view of labor and delivery, the one that said fathers should be very much included in the event. I admit, it was exciting to witness my daughter's birth, but I also felt completely out of place. In natural childbirth, mothers do all the work; delivery-room fathers get in the way. It was this same awkward feeling that filled me four years later in the maternity ward at the birth of my son.

"Got a name for him yet?" the delivery nurse asked. She was a big, strong woman, a take-charge force.

So This is What You Look Like

My daughter was pulled out of me in what was a calm emergency c-section. My blood pressure was "bouncing" (going from low to astronomically high and back again) and I couldn't pee, leading the doctors to believe that my kidneys were shutting down, making an emergency c-section the only way to get my breach baby out before things got much worse than severe preeclampsia. At 35 weeks, I had causally gone into the hospital for a nonstress test and left a few days later with a baby so small, I still cannot believe she didn't need special care. Out of my entire experience, what had surprised me the most was that my daughter looked nothing like I had expected. When the nurse placed her on my chest, my first thought was "this is what you look like?"

I can't even imagine what I had pictured, but this little person was red and I remember her as having dark eyes (which she has never had), looking like a little mouse swaddled up tight. My vision was somewhat obscured because my eyes were almost crossed as I tried to look at her. Both of my arms were tied down with IVs and my chin was holding my daughter up, which is really not the best way to inspect anything. Worried that she was going to fall, I asked my husband for help. With zero baby experience, he freaked out at the thought of picking her up, so he called for the nurse, who thought we were finished and whisked Clover out of the room to clean her up or whatever it is they do with brand new babies. I didn't see Clover's furry back and shoulders until she was brought to me in recovery a short time later. By the next day, my prior expectations were gone and Clover was absolutely beautiful to me.