My Glow

In the movie What toExpect When Expecting there is a character that desperately wants to become pregnant and after a long struggle she finally is.  She is elated; there is nothing she has ever wanted more.  It turns out pregnancy isn’t everything she thought it would be and after many complications she has a minor melt down.  She wanted so much to find her “glow” that comes with pregnancy.  It isn’t until her baby is born that she finds her glow. 

I can relate to this in so many ways.  I tried so hard to do everything right, but so many things went wrong and pregnancy was less than fun, but the truth is with my daughter came my glow.   She has literally lit up my world.  My body is altered and I’m exhausted, but when I look in the mirror I have never looked more beautiful.  My skin and hair are glowing.  I am radiating with pride and love.  My eyes are lighter.   Maybe it sounds coincident or arrogant, but I am more beautiful physically and spiritually because I am her mother.  She is my glow.

I am Catalina’s mom and I am gorgeous! 

She is Still Here

The day before I checked into the hospital and labor started I had lunch with a friend who also lost her mom to cancer at a young age.  She asked me about my experience with pregnancy and not having my mom.  I was honest.  I told her that some moments were really hard.  I had a lot of fear, some of it unfounded.  But I also told her I have never felt closer to my mom.  This blog is for you R.E.Beca.  May you get this same sense of healing someday.

Shortly after I brought my daughter home from the hospital I was staring at her as she slept in my arms.  I was overcome with emotions.  It was more than just post partum hormones.  I was overcome with a joy and love that I had never felt before.  And I whispered one thing to her, “thank you.” 

I am grateful that I have had this experience.  I am grateful that I can experience this joy and love.  But I also realized something else.  My mom must have felt this when she held me.  My mom loved and adored me from the beginning.  I could have never imagined how much she loved me until I felt that love for my daughter.  What a wonderful gift it is to know that I gave my mom this same joy and love.  How amazing it is to know someone loved me like this. 

To my daughter I want to say, “Thank you for allowing me to feel the love I feel for you.  Thank you for giving me clarity on how my mom felt for me.  Thank you for helping me heal in a way I never thought possible.  I hope that if you become a mother, I will be there to witness that moment of clarity you will undoubtedly have with your child, and I will smile knowingly.” 

And even though I know my mom’s love lives on, she still sends me little reminders.  Her presence is clear every time my daughter sneezes.  My mom used to always sneeze three times in a row, and my daughter does the same.  It is something so small, but every time I hear it I smile knowing I’m not alone, she is still here.

Labor

 Parenthood Lesson 1: Forget what you planned

I knew I would be induced early because I was diagnosed with preeclampsia.   I had a date set, but after some usual testing, my doctor decided to move up the date.  The date change was the beginning of many changes that would come in my birthing plan.  I checked into the hospital on a Thursday afternoon at 3pm.  I was nervous, but ready, or at least that was what I was going to tell myself (over and over again).

I labored for well over a day with no pain medicine, not even a Tylenol.  It was uncomfortable but as long as I could get out of bed and sit on a exercise ball I could handle it.  Contractions came every four minutes like clockwork for hours and I was determined to give my baby the most natural birth possible.  I was naively convinced I could do this. 

After 24 hours, I decided to get pain medicine.  I was dilating slowly and needed to sleep so that I could push.  After 24 hours of contractions 4 minutes apart and some pain medicine I enjoyed a nice nap.  Then I was told I would be put on a drug that would slow my central nervous system.  It was for the preeclampsia and would keep me from having seizures during active labor.  I would be bed ridden and I wouldn’t be able to walk or get on my ball.  I knew this would make labor unbearable.  The worst place to be during labor is on your back.  I did the unthinkable.  I agreed to an epidural.  My husband wanted me to agree to a c-section, but that was not necessary.  I could do this.  I would birth my baby “naturally.”  The word “natural” had a new meaning now. 

I took a nap.  I got an epidural.  That made the Pitocin a little more bearable and the sleepiness bearable.  For a few hours I was great.   My water broke.  I was on the right track and I was confident I could handle it. Then the unthinkable happened (again).

I woke up with enormous pain.  The contractions were ten times worse than anything I had endured during labor or EVER.  They tried administrating more pain medicine but nothing, absolutely nothing would work .  They were going to take out the epidural and reinsert it.  But before they did that, they examined me and I was 10 centimeters dilated.  It was too late.  I was going to get my wish and experience a natural childbirth.  Of course at this point, my baby and I had the drugs in our system for nothing. My body was literally slowed, I was exhausted, I had tons of drugs being pumped into me, and it was all for nothing. 

Sometime later, I have no idea how long later, because it was all a blur I started pushing.   I was so tired that when the contractions came I put everything in them and rested in between.  I hoped that this would be quick, especially if I worked harder.  I wanted my baby out and safe.  During every contraction I was told to push 3 times.  Always the over achiever I pushed 4 times.  The pain was horrible.  My husband says my face would turn purple.  I pushed and I pushed.  I begged the doctor to tell me if I was doing something wrong.  She assured me that I was pushing the right way and doing everything right.  She assured me the baby was moving down.  After two and a half hours I saw this look of dread and despair on my doctor’s face.  I knew something was wrong.  I knew she was holding in something that she didn’t want to tell me.  Maybe she needs to work on her game face or maybe I am just that good at reading people (it’s probably the first one). 

The doctor informed me that my baby’s head was turned and could not get under the pelvic bone.  She said I could keep trying if I wanted.  I asked her to be honest with me.  If I kept trying would it make a difference.  She said “honestly, I don’t think it will, but I’ll be here if you want to keep trying.  Cristina, you have done everything right.  You have done a lot more than most people would have done.”  With that same look of reluctance and disappointment for me, she recommended a c-section.  My husband at this point begged me to agree to it.  He says he never knew how strong women were.  That was enough for me.  I knew my blood pressure was rising with the pain, exhaustion and stress.  I knew my desire for an experience was not worth risking the life of my child or my own.  Because even though I was very focused on her safety, I desperately wanted to be there to mother her. That was something I knew she would need. 

Less than 20 minutes later I was on the operating table.  I don’t know time after that only that on Saturday at 10:57am I heard her for the first time.  After months of feeling my baby kick and spin and move I heard her cry, and I am pretty sure she was crying for me.  The Neonatal doctor was present, because we were high risk. My husband and I were assured that she was examined, that she was ok, and that she was well enough that the neonatal doctor had left the room.  I implored my husband to go to her and stay with her.  I did not want her to be left alone.  Shortly after she was brought to me for some skin on skin contact and she went to the nursery with my husband.  That was the last thing I remember.  There is nothing like knowing your baby is ok and your husband will take care of her to let you finally sleep. 

That is how Catalina Elizabeth came into the world. 

There are people who say that as soon as you hold your baby you forget all the pain you went through.  I will not be forgetting any of that experience.  38 weeks of morning sickness, 40 plus hours of labor, two and a half of pushing, and an emergency c-section, will not be easily forgotten.  But neither will the fact that every ounce of pain, every fear, and every worry were absolutely and completely worth it.  I will remember this love always, even when she is a teenager and hates me.  I would do it a hundred times again for her and I will do it for the rest of my life.  

Pregnant on the L -- Part 2

It is official! I’m done commuting to work. In July, I wrote about my negative experiences being Pregnant on the L.  I asked for suggestions on how to handle the situations.  I decided on a little social experiment.  With my pregnancy complications, I was not taking the train as often, but when I was I had Starbucks gift cards ready for positive reinforcement.  Any time someone gave up their seat to me on the train, I bought them a cup of coffee.  I gave them a gift card to Starbucks with a note that said:

Dear Friend,

In the 7 plus months of being pregnant very few people have given up their seats for me.  As I get further along, this commute gets harder for me.  Please have a cup of coffee on me.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your kindness.

Best Regards,

Cristina

LaCristinaDice.blogspot.com

It actually helped me to feel a little less guilty taking someone’s seat and I got to recognize the goodness in a stranger.  I even met some nice people along the way. 

I am determined to have this baby sooner rather than later so last Friday I decided I would take the train to work. On my way home the train was packed and hot.  I had my Starbucks gift card ready to give away to the first person that gave up their seat to my now hugely pregnant self.  Six stops later I took off my sweater and put the gift card back in my purse.  No one gave up his or her seat.   I was hot, exhausted, and disappointed.  I decided to reflect a little on the gift cards I did give away and those people I did meet!

In three months, I gave away a grand total of 4 gift cards.  I gave the cards to one man and 3 women.  My mom used to say there were angels on earth, these are four of my angels... 

The very first gift card was given to a young man with ripped jeans and he smelled of marijuana.  My guess is most people couldn’t smell it, it was probably just my super smelling sense.  He gave me a seat on a crowded train. I handed him the gift card.  He didn’t even look at it.  He just stuffed it in his pocket.  My guess is he probably thought it was a religious pamphlet or something.  What I loved about him, was that if you looked around the train he looked like the last person who would have given up his seat, but there he was breaking stereotypes and being a gentleman when the so called better-dressed men were not.   About a month later I saw him on the train platform.  He smiled and gave me a nod of recognition.  What stood out most was the sincerity of which he smiled at me.  It felt like we were old friends.  When you live in a big city like Chicago those rare moments with a stranger remind you that you are more than just a sardine on a packed train.  I don’t know his name, but I will always remember him and I know he is a good person. 

The next person I gave a card to was a cute skinny woman.  She gave me her seat and said she had recently had a baby so she could completely relate.  I gave her the gift card and she said I was just the sweetest person ever.  I beg to differ; she gave me a seat so she must be pretty sweet herself.  I also hoped that after I have my baby I can get down to even double her size. 

Then there was a Latina with an accent who gave me her seat.  I gave her the gift card and she said “oh my god, what a blessing.”  I assured her that the blessing was getting to sit down on the ride home.  We made each other happy. 

My last gift card was given to my favorite generous seat giver.  She was the researcher.  When I gave her the card she seemed fascinated by it.  Later that day I received an email from her:

Hi Cristina,

We met for a second on the Blue Line train this afternoon when I gave you my seat and you gave me a SBUX card. I just wanted to say, I posted the card with your note attached to my FB page and my circle of friends and sort-of-friends (well, it's Facebook) have been commenting like crazy. I don't know if it makes you feel any better to know this, but a few of my friends said they experienced the same thing while pregnant—people just refused to make eye contact. One friend told a story about standing with her crutches and a broken leg on the train. Just wanted to say, I love your little experiment and thank you for prompting me and others to think and talk about this stuff.



Also, thank you for doing such good work! (I read your bio on your blog.) Amazing. 



Best of luck to you and enjoy being a mom!

Regards,


Alisa

This was confirmation that my experiment, though small had worked.  It got people talking.  It made people think.  AND maybe, just maybe, it will make someone think and give their seat up to a pregnant woman, a disabled person, an elderly person, someone carrying a child or someone else in need. 

In conclusion, while I experienced a lot of jerks while Pregnant on the L, there are still good caring people out there.  I prefer to focus on them! 

Kindergartener’s Voice of Reason

Last night I had a rough night.  I had cramping and contractions all night.  I thought for sure the baby was coming.  With every pain I would think “It’s going to get worse than this.”  It was a scary thought, so I focused on a conversation I had with my 5 year old cousin Bryanna on Friday. 

Me: One more week and the baby should be here.

Bryanna: Yay! One more week and the baby is here!

Me: Yes, but I want her to come out now.  I’m ready for her.
Bryanna: WHY???? It’s going to hurt!!!!

Me: That’s true I’m getting a little worried about that.

Bryanna: Yes, but at the end you’ll have a little baby. 

I was completely amused by the conversation.  Her reaction to how it was going to hurt caught me completely off guard.  Keeping Bryanna’s advice in mind and my eye on the prize.  It won’t be long now.