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birth

what giving birth feels like, giving birth. New mom Mondays. new moms, parenting, pregnancy

Good Morning moms and dads of the Internet. I’ve been a mom in the motherhood for quite some time now but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a new mom. It was hard. So hard. I remember those first moments after I gave birth and physically feeling the mental shift in my existence. It was profound. It was terrifying and, if we’re being completely honest (and I always am), it was overwhelming. That’s why I’m starting this New Mom Monday series here on the blog.  We all need a little guidance, support and let’s admit a little commiseration.

For this first post, I thought, why not start at the beginning, birth.  If you are like the rest of us, you’ve read all the books, blogs and heard all the advice that your brain can hold. I’m pretty sure that when I was boning up on how to treat a colicky baby, how to tie my shoes got shoved right out of my brain. Anyways, as I said, this first post is about birth. Not the watered down version that the book and your moms and sisters have given you. This is the unadulterated truth. If you are squeamish, you may want to look away but if you are pregnant and don’t want to be shook while giving birth, read on, my friend.

READ ALSO: What Does Birth Feel Like

No one can truly tell you what giving birth feels like. Well, we can but it’s sort of like Marie Kondo writing about her folding methods. Sure, we read all about it but reading about it doesn’t quite make sense. Giving birth is something that you actually need to see to understand and to really get a grasp about what it feels like, you have to give birth. It’s a bum deal but that’s the reality. Of course, I never had anyone even try to explain it to me and that’s why I’m going to explain it to you as honestly as possible.

The only thing people told me about giving birth at my baby shower was that it was going to be such a blessing and as soon as you held that new baby, you would forget all about the pain of childbirth. As if pain could just melt away from your memory like an ice cream cone on a hot July day. I knew then that this was suspect.

I was scared before I even went into the hospital to get induced. What if I pooped on the table? I mean what if I full on, as a grown woman, lost control of my bodily functions in front of a room front of people including my husband? What then? Well, I’ll tell you what then…it’ll happen and you will survive and you will get over it because that will not be the most profound thing that happens to you on that day, not even close.

I didn’t eat for 24 hours before I gave birth because, well, my vanity wouldn’t allow me to purposely poop on the table but maybe my body had other plans. I don’t know. No one will tell me. And anyways, who would notice with all that other stuff coming out of you like a human being. By the way, eat before you give birth. It is a lot of work and I don’t recommend going into 13 hours of induced labor without any food in your belly.

READ ALSO: Mommy Truisms

The day was unlike any other day I had ever experienced in my life. I arrived at the hospital at around 6 am. They did all the normal stuff like check me in and check my vitals. Then, after a slight freak out about the gown not fitting me and the “mortification” of my butt hanging out the back, Pitocin was administered. Recalling how crazy I acted about doctors and nurses possibly seeing my exposed derriere, when there would, in fact, be several doctors “checking my progress” throughout the day, is hilarious. Thank you teaching hospital for giving me a lesson in humility.

Shortly after this, they broke my water. I came into the hospital 4 centimeters dilated. You’d think that would mean that I was ahead of the labor and delivery game but you would be wrong. I still had 6 centimeters left to dilate and as far as I can remember, 6 centimeters is about the same distance as a transatlantic flight for babies being born.

I remember my early contractions felt like period cramps. I got all cocky and thought to myself, this is no big deal. It was uncomfortable but nowhere as annoying as my broken water that kept replenishing and gushing out. Yes, that is completely normal and completely gross (to me.) Then somewhere around hour 5 and centimeter 6, I asked for something to take the edge off but refused to get my epidural. Instead, I opted for a drug that ended up making me feel completely drunk but took away none of the pain.at.all. It was the worst.

Finally, around 7 hours in and 7 centimeters dilated, the Big Guy asked me, “Is there anything I can do to help?” To which I whispered (because that was all that I could muster), “Get the anesthesiologist!!!” What I really wanted to say was, “You do this laboring bit!” He told the nurse to which she replied, “Sorry, the anesthesiologist is in surgery right now. She’ll have to wait.” Did I mention that there was only 1 anesthesiologist in the entire hospital and he was now, in surgery?

I’m sure I looked like a caged, wild animal when I looked at the picture window across from where I was laying and tried to contemplate whether or not, in my state, I could make it to the window to jump out. That’s how bad the pain was. My contractions were on top of one another and hyped on Pitocin, they were coming on fast and furious. I was shaking, my teeth were chattering, I was nauseous and trapped. Held hostage by my body, my baby. It felt like a near-death experience only I never saw any white light. I couldn’t talk or yell, all I could do was take refuge in my head. Try to stay as still as possible, cry and survive this crazy ride.

I never used the breathing that I learned in all of those Lamaze classes. I think I kept waiting until I “needed” them but we went from annoying contractions to frantic, trying to escape the situation contractions in the matter of a few minutes. I laugh at naïve me who wanted a natural birth. I ended up getting accidental non-medicated transition labor anyways thanks to my refusal of the epidural when it was originally offered.

By the time the anesthesiologist arrived, my teeth were chattering so hard I thought I might have broken some and my head felt as if it was going to spin off of my neck from the pain, while he was trying to inform me of all the side effects. I foggily remember something about migraines and paralysis and me telling him, that I didn’t care if I couldn’t walk, just put the damn needle in my back so the pain went away. Mind you, this was after the nurse annoyingly had asked me if I could sit “Indian Style” while I was experiencing off the Richter scale contractions only a minute apart.

READ ALSO: Play Dates What Every New Mom Should Know

*Now, I think I should reiterate here that both of my births were induced and, though I’ve never gone into labor naturally, I’m assuming (hoping) that going into labor naturally is less painful as your body is doing what it needs to to not being forced into labor before your body is quite on board. **

All of that being said, after finally getting the epidural, I laid back and they checked me, I was fully dilated and ready to push, if I wanted to. There is nothing quite like experiencing transition labor unmedicated only to lay back, get checked and hear the nurse say, “Well, would you look at that you are fully dilated.” Then the anesthesiologist says, “We’ll just turn this up high enough to take the edge off the ring of fire.” I felt pretty jipped but at least I didn’t want to jump out of any windows anymore.

The nurse asked me if I wanted to push or wait for the doctor. Since I was much more comfortable, I opted to wait for the doctor. 3 hours later she arrived and I pushed my baby girl into the world, with the help of a mirror and the support of my husband and a needle the size of Texas in my spine.

The “ring of fire” was nothing in comparison to the Pitocin fueled transition labor. Bella came flailing into the world at 4:54 p.m. on a Thursday in March. She weighed 7 lbs. and 13 ounces and was 21.5 inches long. The cord was wrapped around her neck and she didn’t cry at first. She was purple.

I didn’t scream or yell once…because I couldn’t. I didn’t have the energy; I was in too much pain. I had a silent birth and I still don’t know if I pooped on the table. No one told me if I did and I really just didn’t care to know at that point.

They laid my sweet baby on my chest and I simultaneously laughed and cried. Joy makes you act like a psycho, in case you experience the same. You’re not crazy, just blissfully happy. The first thing I did once I let my baby go to be checked was call my sister-in-law and ask her why the hell she didn’t warn me and she said, “Once you’re pregnant, what’s the point. It’s coming out and it’s going to hurt whether you know it’s coming or not. There’s nothing you can do about it but worry for 9 months and what’s the point of that?” She was right.

But I’m here to tell you, those who want to know, unless an anvil falls on your head after you give birth and causes you to completely lose your short term memory, you will never forget what giving birth feels like. It’s indescribable, unforgettable and unexpected but 1000x worth it. And while you might not forget about the pain, after holding your new baby and looking deep into the soul of those eyes of the human being you made, you won’t care. You’d go through it a million more times if in the end you got to hold this baby and that, my friends, is how the species survives.  Not because women forget but because we are tough and love really does trump everything else.

My advice to you, try to go into labor naturally if medically possible. Get the epidural before you are in excruciating pain, maybe around centimeter 5. There are no awards for experiencing pain. Your baby won’t pop out and hand you a trophy and it won’t prevent the eye rolls that they will give you as teens. Bring Dermaplast with you to the hospital. It will be a savior after giving birth.

A birth plan is not a guarantee so unclench your hands from around that piece of paper, unclench your jaw, forget about what you look like and try to relax and enjoy the experience. It only feels like it lasts forever; before you know it, you’ll be choosing to do it all over again.

If you’ve already given birth, tell me about your birth story. If you are pregnant and about to give birth for the first time, please leave any questions that you might have about it in the comments. I’ll answer any that I can.

Do you remember what giving birth feels like?

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stress incontinence, mommy issues, life after giving birth, peepee, sneezing, Poise, Impressa

Disclosure: This is a sponsored post written by me on behalf of Poise Impressa but all opinions about stress incontinence are my own.

Do you ever find yourself leaking (just a little bit) when you laugh too hard, dance too hard, sneeze or cough (that’s the worst) or workout? It’s so embarrassing. I am a grown woman and since becoming a mom and giving birth, I suffer from the affliction of stress urinary incontinence. In simple terms, I sometimes pee myself just a little but when I exert myself physically.

It doesn’t always happen and it’s not like I’m walking around peeing myself all day long but I leak sometimes. What can I do short of surgery? I Kegel, so don’t tell me to kegel. That’s about as useful as someone telling a schizophrenic person to stop talking to himself or herself. Come on, some things need actual remedies not just simply just to be wished away because if that worked, we’d all weigh 115 pounds and look 25 forever.

I’m not ready to just accept this fate and I am definitely not ready to wear diapers. I’m only 42 not 87. It’s not fair. When I look at my daughters’ faces I see my miracles and then I remember, oh yeah, that noggin makes me pee myself a little when I sneeze. There has to be a solution, right?

Then I learned that Poise Impressa can help with stress incontinence.

Immediately I thought, “Sign me up!” 10-years of leaking when sneezing is a long time and I am pretty much ready for anything that can make that stop happening. I know we all begin our lives in diapers and we all end up pretty much in them again but not now, not at 42. The answer is Poise Impressa.

What is Poise Impressa, you ask? It is an internal product that women insert like a tampon. Also, each person has unique anatomy and your jean size does not determine your Impressa size. To find the size right for you, the brand encourages you to start with size 1 and if you experience leaks, move on to Size 2 and then Size 3 if needed.

It’s that simple. Just insert and go on about your day, worry free. Free to laugh as hard as you want. Free to sneeze and cough, to your hearts desire without fear. Free to Zumba until your legs give out. The point is Poise Impressa takes the stress of urinary leakage out of your day and makes you free to do whatever you want without ever having to worry about leaking or smelling like urine, ever again…no matter how big your babies’ heads were.

I know I’m not alone in this issue. Most moms who’ve given birth vaginally live with Stress Urinary Incontinence and all the worries that come with it, every single day. Poise Impressa removes those worries and leaves you free to enjoy your life, your family and yourself.

Would you try Poise Impressa if meant you never had to worry about your stress incontinence ever again?

 

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Men Can Experience the Contractions of Labor with the Neuromuscular Electrical Stimulator

I was listening to the radio on the way to drop off this morning and the DJ’s on the Bert Show were talking about two Dutch TV hosts, Dennis Storm and Valerio Zeno who decided to undergo electro-stimulations (they simulate contractions) for their show, “Guinea Pigs.” using a neuromuscular electrical stimulator. That piqued my interest but then they went on to say that they were going to do the same; live streaming on Ustream from their studio, I did what any woman who has experienced transition labor without a damn epidural would do, I raced home to watch. Men can experience the contractions of labor.

Even though it wasn’t as intense as real child labor, I think they got the picture. Growing little people and giving birth is not for the faint of heart. When will men realize that women, even though we are referred to as the weaker sex and may be smaller than men, we are built tough? We make hard decisions because we have to. We sacrifice our lives and ourselves, not because it’s easier for us but because we know it has to be done. We choose to do the right thing not because it’s easy but in spite of how hard it is; like giving birth.

READ ALSO: What giving Birth Feels Like

Men usually have more physical strength than women but we have a mind over matter mentality that is unparalleled. We have a way of seeing our way through to the other side. We have a quiet inner peace that gives us the strength to carry on when most others would quit.

I watched the video and it was funny to see how they reacted to the simulated contractions. But going through an entire 5 minutes of childbirth can never prepare anyone for what giving birth is really like.

READ ALSO: The Day I became a Mother

Giving birth is a full-body experience. It is physical, mental and spiritual. When I gave birth, I was in so much pain that it was all I could do to stay focused on the task at hand. About 5 hours into it, I wanted, with all that I was, to quit the whole thing. The pain was immeasurable. I didn’t have the benefit of my labor originating from a mechanism that I could control. There was no on/off switch and there was certainly no guaranteed 20 second rest period in between contractions and there was no promise that the pain of the contraction would only last 15 seconds. During the transition labor of my first birth, my contractions were so closely staggered that they felt constant.

I, honestly, thought I was going to die. There was no laughing. There was only quiet prayers for the pain to stop by any means possible. Either the baby needed to come out so the pain would stop or I was going to throw myself out of a window. I couldn’t have taken it much longer than I did. After the first one, I was not sure that I would ever have another baby. I was afraid. I was terrified. But I did.

READ ALSO: That One Time I went into Heat at Panda Express

This neuromuscular electrical stimulator is great to perhaps give men a glimpse into what labor contractions feel like but they can not replicate the state of mind that women experience when giving birth. It is a simultaneous end and beginning. The end of who we were and the birth of who we will become. The birth of our own child. There is nothing like the experience in the world and no two experiences are alike, even in the same woman.

birth, labor, contractions

Birth is messy. It is an out of body experience. It transcends space and time and in the end, you know that you did something completely amazing. You brought a miracle to life. You witnessed it’s creation and now you have the privilege of loving that child and raising it to be the change you want to see in the world. It is life-changing. It’s so much deeper than just learning the boundaries of your pain threshold, which is what the neuromuscular electrical stimulator has reduced the experience to.

Would you want your husband to experience the Neuromuscular Electrical Stimulator while you were in labor?

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Unneeded Hysterectomies, India, Indian women

Unneeded Hysterectomies Change a Woman’s Life forever

When have unneeded hysterectomies being performed ever been moral? When did the world become so full of morally bankrupt men? If you have ever had a hair up your ass about women’s reproductive rights in the world, this is the time to really get mad. We need to get full on pissed off and say no more. We are women not animals or property, we don’t belong to men. Government has no business getting between our legs. For once and for all, stay out of our vaginas!

In India, less than respectable, doctors are performing illegal and unneeded hysterectomies on the poor women of India. I don’t mean “poor” as those poor women, I mean “poor” as in financially downtrodden. I mean poor as in they don’t have the means to refuse any medical treatment offered to them by a doctor, even if the solution to his made up problem is a complete removal of their uterus and ovaries. Who are these animals to do this to women? Why are they performing unneeded hysterectomies like they are going out of style, shirking their Hippocratic oath and removing the very essence of what makes most of us feel like women? For money!

Yes, India, the country who has already received multiple throat punches from me for aborting and killing their female babies simply due to the fact that they have vaginas versus a penis. The same country who has ultrasounds strategically placed on every corner so that perspective parents can get a refund if their unborn child has not won the Indian genetics lottery which means they are a boy. The same country who has men who still think it’s okay to mutilate the genitalia of it’s women and shackle them into chastity belts. Now, the doctors are taking it upon themselves to remove the women of rural India’s wombs by giving them completely unneeded hysterectomies because the hospital can claim the hysterectomies under a national insurance scheme. Even going so far to remove the ovaries which increases the risk for early onset of osteoporosis.

 

Doctors in the Indian state of Chhattisgarh performed hysterectomies on poor village women without a valid medical reason in order to claim money from a national insurance scheme, the state’s health minister said on Wednesday.

Under the program launched in 2008, doctors can claim up to 30,000 rupees ($540) to treat poor families, providing a safety net to help pay for expensive hospital surgeries. But critics say the program was exploited by unscrupulous doctors.

“The women were deliberately ill-advised by doctors who removed their uterus to get money,” Amar Agrawal, Chhattisgarh’s health minister told Reuters.

“As per my information the doctors have so far managed to make roughly 2 crore (10 million) rupees ($360,000) in recent months by removing uteruses without any valid medical reasons.”

The state government examined 1,800 hysterectomies performed in the impoverished state as part of an investigation into the alleged scam. Many of the operations were suspected to have been performed illegally, government sources told Reuters.

Does India hate it’s women? Or is this a growing trend in the world, where men hate the female population, or at the very least have no respect for women as being human? The world is going backwards my friends. Don’t think this just happens in third world countries someplace across the world. Make no mistake, it happens right here in the United States as well. Maybe no unneeded hysterectomies are being performed as an insurance scheme, but women are under attack. Our reproductive rights are being stripped away, piece by piece and our human worth has been compared to animals. We are in a day and time in history, when women are having the male agenda shoved down our throats and thrust into our vaginas.I am sad and sickened by the state of the world and women’s rights. We need to stand up and stop allowing ourselves to be abused by the male governing powers. We need to fight back and say no more.

India’s Unneeded Hysterectomies violates Women’s Rights

Today it’s India, performing unneeded hysterectomies, purposely aborting female babies and abandoning of killing those who survive birth. Tomorrow, it’s here…women being compared to swine, government sticking their nose into our vaginal business; how we should reproduce, when we should reproduce, if we should reproduce. This is between a couple and God. Government has no fucking business in our reproductive rights. Give women our full human rights first and then we can talk about government having any input on reproductive rights.

Throat Punch to the unscrupulous doctors in India who are performing these unneeded hysterectomies for money. May their license be stripped and may they be castrated by the women whom they have reproducibly hobbled for the rest of their life.May you be put in jail and may all of your reproductive tools be removed while you sleep, unsuspectingly. May you know the pain of having no control over the choices made on your behalf.

Just because a woman is poor financially does not give any man the right to take away her choice to have children and become a mother or determine when, why or how she has the children. Men, it’s not your fucking business. We are not children, you have no right to make choices on our behalf. You have no right to punish us because you feel that our choices don’t live up to your expectations. A woman’s reproductive parts are something that we hold as dear to who we are as men do their reproductive parts. Boo on  you for thinking you know what is better for women than we do for ourselves. You have no right to end abortion or give unneeded hysterectomies for money.

 

 Unneeded Hysterectomies is a Violation of Human Rights

Photo


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Mommy Kryptonite~That New Baby Smell

New Baby Smell ~ Kryptonite for the Mommy soul. Oh yes, I’ve got baby on the brain big time. I know I have pledged myself to the Just Say No to babies campaign. I have willfully closed for business. I have made the decision to close the doors on the baby factory. No more producing grade-A human beings. I know this. I am pretty excited that my girls are of the age where they sleep for more than 4 hours at a time ( usually), that there are no more diapers and ass wiping ( well, most of the time). I don’t particularly miss being spit up on or not understanding what my children are saying. But then something happens, like the birth of my brand spanking new nephew all enveloped in that new baby smell. You know what I mean; it’s like apples, fresh air and pure freaking love. Then you look at that face that melts your heart and short circuits your brain. This is when trouble happens.

New Baby, newborn, Newborn Baby

New Baby=Kryptonite

Then, the ovaries began to twitch – the brain to ditch and suddenly the hinges( of my uterus) started to unhitch. I think there are many of us Mommies who reside somewhere between Baby gotta have it land and Hell no,we won’t go there again newborn city (like New Jack City but not quite so violent). We stay there in a procreation purgatory until one of two things happens 1) we convince our husbands to get a vasectomy or 2) we go through menopause, either way, the inbetween time is dangerous. All it takes is one look at a smiling mug like this one below and we are doomed. One minute (ok 5 minutes) of unprotected wild abandonment and BOOM there we are in a full on shit storm of the delivery kind.

new baby, newborn, newborn baby

Dear Lord, this kind of cuteness should certainly be outlawed. My brain goes all fuzzy and the next thing you know I’m doing things that I promised myself I’d never do again like birthing a 15 inch human head without an epidural ( a la Alien), losing control of my bodily functions, and a menagerie of other things that nobody, not even your mama, tells you about pregnancy.

New Baby, newborn, newborn baby

New Baby Smell is clouding my Judgement

new baby, newborn, newborn baby

My baby +New Baby = Kryptonite of Epic Proportions.

Uterus is full on convulsing.For the love of God can someone please get me outta here before I do something stupid like have unprotected ovulatory sex. Yeah, that’s right, I said it. I know my body like a fine tuned machine and I know two weeks to the day of the start of shark week, fertility lurks. Must resist moments of weakness and smell of fresh out of the oven new baby. And damn it if my sister isn’t the picture of new mommy glow. I thought that was a myth! No fair. I most certainly did not glow. I looked like I had been run over by a Mack truck. Note to self: New baby smell comes with new baby and New baby is hard work ( even if he is so cute that you want to kiss his face off). Have you ever felt conflicted as to if you should have another baby? What do you do to stop the twitching ovaries and throbbing uterus? Or was new baby the new no baby? What tipped the scales in favor of new baby?

new baby, newborn, newborn baby

New Baby Kryptonite Never Looked so Good

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Ugly Babies, ugly, baby, ugly in the cradle, pretty at the table

Let’s talk about the old saying, “ugly babies in the cradle, pretty at the table.” I had never heard of it and quite frankly, took great offence at the thought of an adult calling a baby ugly. Are there such things as ugly babies?

Have you ever heard this crazy saying?

As most of you know, I am walking around in a new baby (nephew) induced fog. I am seeing the world with new eyes and loving on my own daughters harder and stronger than I did a couple days ago because of my reminder of the preciousness of childhood. The moment my beautiful nephew entered the world, all I could think was how very blessed we all our to have our babies children in our lives.

From the moment I saw my daughters’ faces, they were the most beautiful baby, no human, I had ever seen. They still are. They will always be.

I am their mother and their birth was the culmination of a whole lot of love. Their very existence is a constant reminder of how very blessed I am in this life. It was like looking upon the sun. It was joyous and humbling. With each birth, I was metamorphisized into a better person (even if it doesn’t feel like it on most days).

I thought every mother felt this way when she saw her baby for the first time. I naively thought that every mother thought her baby was the most beautiful baby in the world because to her it is the most beautiful baby in the world. I never imagined someone would call their own baby ugly.

Ugly Babies, ugly, baby, ugly in the cradle, pretty at the table

Ugly Babies don’t exist

This morning as I’m driving my girls to school, we are listening to the radio and the deejays are talking about a phrase used by parents “Ugly in the cradle, Pretty at the table” apparently this is something that parents say to console their children who they have told are ugly.WTF? Why would you ever tell anyone they are ugly, little lone your child?

READ ALSO: One in Ten Babies is Born this Way

Newsflash, people have mirrors they already know they are ugly. Kids know if they are not as cute as the kid next to them, but to their parents, they should be the cutest freaking thing in the world. It’s in the parent handbook. Didn’t they get it when they got that stupid ass free plastic diaper bag from the hospital?

Don’t tell your kids they are ugly. Don’t think your kids are ugly. And for the love of God, if you do think they are ugly (besides something being fundamentally wrong with you in the head) where do you think they got those damn ugly genes from?

Ugly Babies are A Myth

Look, I am living in the real world and I have perfect 20/20 vision so I do realize that some babies are cuter than others when they are born. Let’s be honest, most newborns look like one of two things; a little old man or a fuzzy ball sack. But we love them and to the parents who produced them, those babies are the most beautiful babies in the world.

By the way, how good do any of us look after taking a transatlantic flight or participating in fight club? Let’s be real, that’s pretty much what being born is like. How good did any of us look after giving birth and we were on the outside?

Ugly Babies

Precious

 There are No Ugly Babies

I don’t know who came up with such a ridiculous saying as “Ugly babies in the cradle, pretty at the table” but I bet they were ugly on the inside and certainly need to be flogged. Stop using it!

Remember, next time you are thinking about saying how ugly a baby is, those ugly babies are somebody’s everything that is beautiful and good in the world. If you are a parent who has called your baby ugly, please email me a photo because I need to see what level of ugly it takes to make a parent call their own baby ugly.

READ ALSO: Does Advanced Maternal Age Really Mean You’re Too Old to Give Birth?

Please stop telling your babies they are ugly. They will look human in a couple of months. Now put your standard issued Mommy thinks you’re perfect glasses back on NOW!

Have you ever thought your child was ugly? Come on, you can tell me. I won’t tell anyone. We’ve all thought there are ugly babies out there, but usually not our own. I mean come on, we’ve all got an ugly cry. They don’t call it that because it’s pretty. I bet even Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie look pretty gruesome when they ugly cry.

I’m a realist, I am not opposed to the fact that there are ugly babies in the world. I am however opposed to the fact that there are parents out there who are stupid enough to not only think it but to say it out loud, to their little ugly babies. Just remember, there are no ugly babies just adults who should have thought before they spoke.

Do you think there is such a thing as ugly babies?

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baby

Baby Watch 2012 ~Today is one of the most important days of my life, other than getting married and having my own children, my baby sister is having her first baby and I couldn’t be more excited. She texted me this morning around 4 AM to say she was in the hospital. I know that she’s been nervous, especially since she reads my blog, but she is over the moon excited. As I type this post, she’s 10 cm dilated and the scrubs have been issued.  This baby will be born as I write this post. Her life will be changed forever.

Baby, pregnancy, childbirth, labor,motherhood, family,sister

Baby Watch 2012

My sister is one of my best friends and to be mothers together has been a long time dream of ours. We had dreams of our children growing up together, playing together and being as close as siblings. Life gets hectic, as life always does, and we may not get to see one another as much as we might like to or talk daily as we once promised one another but still, she is in my heart and I am in hers. This is what sisters do. This is how I feel about both of my sisters.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it ~ee cummings

So today while my sister was 3 hours away giving birth, I sat in my house waiting out a blizzard that had placed itself right smack between us, texting back and forth with her incessantly and wishing I was there but knowing I was not. It stung not to be there. I reminded her to breathe and to not get too stressed. I metaphorically held her hand and literally told her how to push. She consulted me about when to get the epidural and I explained in great detail and brutal honesty the escalating degrees of contractions and intricacies of labor/delivery. She got her epidural at 6 cm dilated and avoided any begging for death induced contractions as well as any stalling of labor. I was texted a photo of her partner in his scrubs and then it went silent. No texting, no phone call..just silence on my end and my mind went wild. I was so afraid that something went awry. And then I received this… and oh baby, all was right with the world.

Behold, the baby

baby

The Most Beautiful Baby Born Today

Congratulations to my beautiful sister, Bertha, Brian and the absolutely most gorgeous little boy in the world. Love you all so much and wish I was there tonight. Titi Debi can’t wait to hold you in my arms and kiss those cheeks off, baby.

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Birth, Pregnancy,labor,dleivery, birth

Birth and pregnancy happen, especially when you least expect it. It seems that it is universally applicable that trying too hard at anything puts too much pressure on ourselves and we end up with performance anxiety. This is why on my first pregnancy, I conceived while still in the “planing to plan to have a baby stage”. There was no pressure, we were just sexing it up and having a good time…maybe too good of a time. When I found out that I was pregnant, I was ecstatic. I had waited for this moment since I had gotten married, maybe since my husband proposed. There is just something so liberating about intentionally making a baby ( *or planning to plan to have a baby) with the man that you love, aside from all the baby making, birth control free nookie.  And I don’t just mean the fact that I took it as a license to eat carbs without guilt for 10 months. Heck to the yeah, I could finally eat and exhale! I was overjoyed, to say the least. Do you know how awesome it is to NOT worry that someone is going to mistake your baby doll dress and burrito belly for a baby bump? It was glorious!

Oh Sh*t, Pregnancy!

Then I made the mistake of reading all of those nightmare inducing, statistic laced pregnancy books. All the good times I had planned for gave way to worry and anxiety. Thank God, I hadn’t tried to educate myself before conceiving or I would have been scared to death, maybe even chalked up the whole idea. I’m pretty squeamish about pain, blood and body fluids and let’s face it..that’s all giving birth is aside from the miracle it all results in. Before getting pregnant, no one told me about gestational diabetes, the disfigurement of stretch marks, outtie belly buttons, linea negrias, noses spreading, feet growing, acne, bacne and spider veins. Nobody told me that the “glow” was code for ugly, exhausted and fat. Worse, nobody told me about what happens when you give birth. NOBODY told me how excruciatingly painful it would be. No one gave me a heads up that there was NO modesty or dignity in giving birth. My friends never told me that transition labor would feel like a cracked out, ninja ghoulie was trying to chew it’s way out of my lower abdomen. Nobody told me that trying to birth a baby would take as long as a transatlantic flight. NO.BODY.TOLD.ME!! Not even my Mama! Why?Why did no one tell me????

Pregnancy, Nobody Told Me

I had no idea that I’d be put into a gown that couldn’t possibly cover my protruding belly without completely exposing my pasty white derriere complete with assne. No one told me that I’d have 27 doctors, nurses and passersby sticking there hand in my woohoo to check “how far along” I was. I wasn’t told that I’d be bored out of my brain, watching Jerry Springer, when I’d be struck mute by pain and only be able to whisper the words, “Oh Sh*t” and “Oh God” alternately and on repeat. Most importantly, NO ONE told me that I might have a bowel movement on the birthing table.  Between you and me, that’s a deal breaker. I would have opted for a surrogate or adopted a little brown baby from Mexico (then maybe I would have had a chance that the baby would look like it was actually related to me).

But no one tells you these things. To be clear, I intentionally starved myself for the two days before I was induced. When the time came, I gave it my all. I got 25 stitches for my trouble and a gorgeous baby girl. My husband assures me that I did not poop on the birthing table and the only thing I pushed into the world that afternoon was our firstborn. Did he tell me the truth? Or was he trying to restore some of the dignity I had lost from the hourly dipstick checks? I’ll probably never really know. I’m just hoping in the throes of a heated discussion I never hear “ Oh yeah, well you did sh*t on the birthing table! It was real and it was spectacular!” For now, I choose to believe in a world where there are unicorns, fairies and no one poops the table while giving birth. If there’s a next time, I may just be done with it and have Indian food the night before induction. I say go big or go home. Sh*t happens!

During Pregnancy, Sh*t Most Certainly Happens!

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This piece was originally posted on May 7,2009..it was the second post of the first day I had my blog. I was a little eager and I had a lot to say about Motherhood..still do. But then you know that already, right? These first posts, I adore. They are like the days of having my first child, when I knew absolutely nothing but loved every single minute of it. I was writing for an audience of me..myself.Who else? No one else knew who the heck I was and no one was reading, except for the Big Guy..I’m pretty sure that was only to make sure I wasn’t saying anything embarrassing about him.Or perhaps it was because reading my blog is like reading my diary or living a few minutes inside my head..scary thought. I know. I hope you enjoy these flashbacks as much as I do.

XO Debi

All anyone ever tells you about birth is “It’s such a blessing” (which it is) and you forget about the pain of childbirth as soon as you hold your beautiful newborn baby in your arms (which I hate to be the bearer of bad news, is a complete (Did I mention complete) and absolute, bold faced lie). Unless an anvil fell on your head, immediately after giving birth, while holding your newborn and by some miracle missed your child, and knocked you unconscious leaving you with amnesia…you will never forget the pain of childbirth. It is an indescribable, unforgettable, and unbearable pain…who could forget that, so why don’t we warn our sisters, friends, and other beloved women in our lives?

I’ll tell you why….. it wouldn’t change a thing. The pain would still be ‘that’ pain, and all it would do is make our girlfriends stress out, tense up and hurt even worse. Besides, if you dare to be different and actually go against the code and tell someone the truth, well, they won’t believe you anyways. I told my best friend that while waiting for the anesthesiologist, I told my husband if he didn’t find the damn doctor with the needle then I was going to jump out the large picture window that was in my hospital room. He knew I was serious. She thought I was kidding, speaking metaphorically to demonstrate the point, but I was serious. Dead serious! Not until she was in the throes of her own delightful birth did she recollect my words and realize damn, she was telling the truth!!! The scary, horrible, painful truth.

I had asked my sister in law (who had 4 children at the time, with no epidural) about the pain of childbirth and I never got a straight answer. Just the typical, you’ll forget about the pain once you hold your baby in your arms and look down into those beautiful eyes. After, I went through the lovely ordeal of childbirth; I called her and asked her “why didn’t you warn me?” Her answer to me was this, “it wouldn’t have changed anything and it would have freaked you out. Once you’re pregnant, it’s too late to change your mind because of a little pain (Little?) Besides, you never would have believed me!!!”And you know, we were on the phone (states apart) but I swear to God almighty that I heard laughter in her voice. You know that, I just pulled a joke on somebody laugh.A damn snicker.

I’m telling you, this club, it really does enjoy watching its provisional’s squirm. I was punked! But she was/is right; I would have thought she was crazy, a wimp, a liar, perhaps all of the above but I never would have believed and certainly could not have comprehended what child birth felt like.

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