After I quizzed my OB and my primary care physician for several visits (do you know how expensive it is to just TALK to your doctor!) I was given the green light and decided to pick my midwife. We (Garrett and I) discussed what traits were important to us and I took to the task of calling a few in the area. I knew that I would instantly tell if I wanted to work with someone over the phone, and true enough having phone conversations narrowed my choices down to two. I ended up not even meeting with the second midwife choice. I immediately knew I was in love with Janessa Craig. Add  the fact that my OB worked with her on the Labor and Delivery Unit at Siloam and I was golden. Janessa is a smooth personality who will sit and look at me very patiently as I ramble on about research and data. She looks at me graciously and inhales for me and reminds me I won’t have this time back ever again and tells  me to savor it.

Janessa and her apprentice came to have a home visit on Monday.  I cooked lunch and they explored my house, discussed scenarios, and determined what I wanted for the experience. They didn’t leave for three hours.  After doing my vitals they just sat on my bed and giggled and talked like we were old friends. At this point I entered into my lecture about why Janessa needed to let me take Castor oil… “I NEED this baby, ” I complained, “I am over it! I am done being pregnant… I want her NOW!” Janessa shook her head and gave me the same ole speech, “Jasmine the best thing you can do is let her cook and when that time comes  that God appointed she will be here.” THAT is exactly why I don’t let God be in charge of anything!!!! That dude has got His priorities all jacked up! Doesn’t HE know that my body has expired of this process!? Who likes to pee forty ba-gillion times in one damn night!! Janessa’s words, however, reminded me that I could hold on for another week and maybe even two more after that. And just to make sure my misery was cataloged in my mind appropriately, I looked up at Janessa and commented, “Don’t some women stay pregnant well past forty weeks?” She nodded. “UGH!” I exclaimed, “That is it! I am going to be pregnant forever!” To which she responded, “Well! You could make us some money then!”

So we are still waiting. In Jasmineland more waiting means more projects.

 Even though I DO own Castor Oil… I am harnessing everything I have in my overly impatient body and holding on to allow Addison to decided to arrive when she wants. *Better make is soon kid! Asking Momma to have this much patience is sort of an act of God!*

The other day I was nesting like a psycho womancleaning out a couple of drawers and I found our old calendar. Turns out that I wrote down that Garrett and I had sex (I wrote it down because I had previously been taking fertility meds) on June 30th. For all you conception gurus out there, it means that IF I conceived on or around that date, then Addison should be born on or around the 23rd of March! Hooray! At least some kind of direction and clarity, right?!

In the mean time, my body is telling me it is full term and I am getting anxious. In a week in a half Addison will be considered medically viable (no complications if she was born)… which is a really bad thing. It is a bad thing because I am notoriously BAD about delaying gratification, especially when I have planned and scheduled and worked so hard for it. Last year I picked tomatoes too early (knowingly) because I decided that I waited long enough for them to do their damn job! Silly aren’t I! I am very patient with children (unless they live inside me) and family and friends (for the most part)… but any projects I have initiated better get themselves DONE by golly or there will be some issues.

So my little in-utero project, Addison, is quickly wearing out her welcome. Janessa, my midwife, is doing the smart thing, reminding me: “Jasmine… all things come in season- she won’t stay in their forever, but let her grow as long as she needs to.” Excuse me Janessa! Do you KNOW who you are talking to…. I want her! I want her NOW!  My OB knows this about me. He told me I could be induced when I wanted. I think this is a dangerous idea and I turned it down, but its appeal grows everyday that my hip pops out of place and I almost pee on myself when I sneeze.

Help me friends. Remind me it is okay to wait, that I will make it, and that all things come in season (even though I will most likely ignore you and drink and ungodly amount of Castor oil).

So the decision in question has been about how Addison should arrive into this world. What, you ask, are you saying, “Jasmine! There is one way to have babies… drugged up and in the hospital so you don’t feel pain and if anything goes wrong you have medical professionals around you.” Readers, truly, I thought so too.  IN FACT my refrain used to be, “why in the HELL would someone NOT want drugs… that HURT!!!” However, after my birth experience with Isaiah there was a sneaking suspicion in me that what happened to me at that hospital was NOT how it was supposed to be. I had always been taught, by my beautiful and wise Momma, that birth was something women could do… because we were made that way. She had no strong opinions about meds or no med or where you have the baby, but she always reminded me that women were created capable.  My hospital experience left me feeling like I was broken; pregnancy was to be treated, and that I couldn’t give birth, and my baby had to be delivered. The suspicion that maybe a women’s labor shouldn’t be stopped when it wants to starts urged some seriously uneasy choices in front of me. Here is the quick and dirty birth tale so you can understand (enjoy the run on sentences):

I went into the OB unit after a whole day of back labor. My contractions were 1 min. a part. When I arrived they checked me and saw I was dilated to 4 cms. My doc was out of town and I was only 37.5 weeks and so the attending was not happy about delivering a “premature” baby. So they gave me shots in my belly every four hours to stop the labor until Friday night when my doc arrived. My OB arrived and my labor had stopped and Isaiah’s heart readings were in distress so they decided to induce. I was given pain meds, Pitocin, epidural, Cervidil, and told to hold on tight this baby would be here. I finally was able to push on Saturday. Isaiah was born blue and unresponsive (because of the drugs he had absorbed) until they pinched him really hard. Isaiah was 6 lbs 5oz and CLEARLY not premature. I was hallucinating (from the drugs) and semi-unconscious most of the experience. That delivery followed a long stint with Postpartum Depression and Psychosis. This followed a year of attempted bonding with my son.

*Inhale*

That is the skinny. I don’t want to repeat that experience as anyone, who has given birth under extremely stressful circumstances, could understand why.  I am an emotional introvert and even before the birth of my son the idea of so many people fussing over me or not being in a comfortable environment made me feel all panic stricken and nervous. So I began researching what options I had. This was really difficult because I am a big fan of the medical field (since I will be working in it) and modern technology. Most of the birthing stories I heard where from my crazy Hippy friends, who I was convinced had some sort of Patchouli induced power to withstand pain and stuffing. I was very uneasy about all of it. What I found most interesting during my period of research (6 whole months of it) was that IF you are educated about what ACTUALLY happens during birth and what is SUPPOSED to happen via natural processes, the story changes significantly. I didn’t just watch hyped up pro home/un-medicated birth documentaries and read biased books. I logged on to EBSCO search elite and whipped out my ole researcher hat (hope I make you proud Dr. Froman) and even ran Pearson correlations on medical findings. See… ya’ll think I was joking! Just wait till I have to help my son make a decision. I am going to make the process so damned difficult, I am sure, that I render him emotionally incapable of making a decision.

What yielded after my research and conferring with my OB and my primary care physician was that a home birth (for me: an experienced low risk mom) was extremely safe and favorable. My OB is very close to me and was very sad to see me go, but soon admitted he was excited for me and knew all would be well. My primary care physician joked that his wife would hate having the mess and bustle in her home, but that he felt I was a great candidate and medically, barring freakish emergencies (which I will discuss later), it was a safe choice. So Garrett and I joined hands and made a big decision to have Addison at home, with a midwife, doula, select friends and family, and no meds or interventions. We have chosen our midwife (she has been caring for me for some time now) and we are preparing to meet Addison soon.

Damn those Hippy weirdos! They DO know something about something after all!

Part 2 coming soon……

Jasmine: I hope this store doesn’t smell like Patchouli….  Sadie: Yeah! I hate Patchouli!   

 And so began our journey to Terra Tots. We packed the babies up and started the ipod. We decided that throwback high school songs should be the best musical choice. So a bit of Sarah McClachlan and Dashboard Confessional peppered our conversations as we drove to Fayetteville. We entered a beautifully decorated store with a warm greeting from Bernice.   

 Jasmine: “I just need to warn you that ANYTHING you say to me could end up on our blog.”   

 Bernice: *Laughing* “Its okay, I am used to that. We get on a lot of blogs from around here.”   

 I gave Bernice (the lovely owner) the run down:   

 - I care about the environment but I don’t like poop.   

  -I care more about not being poor, cloth diapers save money.      

-I passed on skin allergies to my kids. I think this is a good alternative to the diaper issues we’ve had.    

Armed with that knowledge, Bernice started in on a very long tour of the store. I got my diaper education while Sadie wrangled the babies. Bernice knows her shit (pun intended). She had ALL of the info on what to use, what not to use, and how to use it. I was thankful and surprised to hear her say that she didn’t recommend certain styles. I asked (about a million times), “but the poop…. will it leak out of this!?” Toward the end of our conversation Bernice commented, “You MUST have a strong gag reflex or something.” That was after she tried to feed me this line, “Just think of it as food that was in you that comes out of your baby….it is a natural process.” *Uhhhh! Yeah lady! Spend a day with my poo throwing feral child and then tell me about upchuck reflexes!* I knew I had already decided to take the dive whenever I walked in the store. So I registered (feel free to buy me things…. yes I just said that, even you stranger who reads my blog, you want to buy me diapers?..go for it!) for the essentials and vowed that I would give cloth diapering a shot.    

Prefolds

 

Diaper Cover

The Lavender one is a cover and the pink one is an actual diaper with a Snappy thingy that holds it closed (NO PINS!) 

Cute Diaper Covers

 

 

<—–These are bundles of prefold cloth diapers that you can use with or without a cover   

                                                                                                                               The best part of the whole set up is that there are several different kinds of diapering methods. There are simple cloth prefolds, prefolds with a cover, all in ones, and pocket diapers. You can mix and match to your heart’s desire. All of the covers snap or Velcro. Some ever have adjustable waistbands and leg holes. The picture doesn’t do justice to the amazing inventory this shop had. I am tempted to never let Addison wear pants, so she can show off her snazzy diaper covers all the time!   

 

  

 

   

Da Belly

 

I suppose this has become my staple look: Over sized sweater, saggy pants (because NO maternity pants seem to fit), flats, and a big ole belly!   

 I decided on waterproof diaper covers with traditional cloth diaper prefolds and hemp prefoldsfor at night( I am sure I am calling them the wrong names). I plan to sew some of my own inserts (because I think I am just that hardcore!). I like the method (after hearing about the million other ways) and I think it will work best for us. Bernice was incredibly kind and knowledgeable. I didn’t feel pressured to buy anything or try anything that I didn’t feel comfortable with. It was a big plus that she was enthusiastic about supporting local businesses and cloth diaper makers.   

  Garrett is really excited to go to their cloth diaper workshop on the 23rd of this month.  

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Let me start by pointing out that the cloth diapers? Are really stinking cute. I mean, a few times I was about ready to do cloth diapering just because they are so fancy. Pink! Purple! Aqua! A snazzy retro green with grey! Polka dotssssss! But I’m getting ahead of myself. First, I happened to come into the store carrying a tote bag from another local baby shop that just happened to have the name of the shop emblazoned on the outside. I imagine the two stores are competitors. Oops. Sorry for the fauz pas.  

Second, I was not aware that I was on the adventure in order that I could wrangle the babies. Had I known, I would have swallowed my anxiety pill with a shot of vodka before embarking. I tend to get a little freaked out when the kids are running around all willy-nilly in places where they can stick their hands in stuff. And break stuff. And wipe their noses on expensive blankets. And Norah has a thing for throwing around recently folded clothes, so when we walked in the store and I saw the stacks of cute little organic t-shirts, I honestly thought they would be my undoing. I made it through the past 20 months but those t-shirts are my last straw! Surprisingly, she left the t-shirts alone.  

In fact, for the first 1/2 hour Isaiah and Norah were perfect angels. They went directly to the back of the room where there were toys laid out with the sole purpose of being played with (which, thank you for that Bernice) but eventually they discovered, and wanted to play with, the walking stick toys. Now really, I do not get the purpose of walking stick toys, except to bang them on the floor and make me want to pull out all my hair and use it to plug up my ears. So after 10 minutes all I could hear was “Wheeee!!! Clank clank clank! Crash! Smash!” all under toned by the incessant pinging of the tiny wooden balls inside the wooden death toy.  

Toy O' Death

 

 

I tell you, I was about ready to just leave Jasmine there with the babies and the death toys and the stacks of organic t-shirts and the woolen breast pads and the cute cloth diapers. I was ready make a break for the door and go get myself a chocolate milkshake. Fortunately, just as I was sneaking toward the door, Norah and Isaiah gained a renewed interest in the tiny wooden vegetables and wooden people with their wooden potty. So I walked over to the footstool and slumped down.

  

I was sitting there, innocently looking at my wounded finger when suddenly, the adults in the room (Jasmine and Bernice) shifted their attention to me. “I’m just interested” Bernice began, “Interested in the reasoning behind not wanting to cloth diaper.” I got a little squirmy here, because no, I have nothing against cloth diapering. I will gladly support and encourage Jasmine and Garrett and will even try it out when my creature is born (using Addison’s outgrown diapers) and who knows, maybe it will be something I think I can do. But this humorous post is not the place to really get into my reasons not to take the plunge just yet. Suffice it to say, my history with anxiety and barely managing the basic tasks of household cleanliness after Norah was born were enough of a reason to stick with disposables for now. Ok, so I leave diapers laying around my house. Yes, I know that is gross and sick and lazy, but hey, at least I wrap them up first. And I am willing to bet that I am not the only person in the whole world who does that. But I do it with disposable diapers and I know I would do it with cloth diapers too and people, I draw the line at having rotting poop pads laying around in my living room. I have standards you know! So I explained this to Bernice,and she seemed a little grossed out by my diapers in the living room, but she conveniently had an answer to all my excuses, and to be honest, I began to think about really doing it. But still, I resist.  

At one point I said “So, you have to like, rinse them out when they get pooped in, right?” and Jasmine and Bernice answered in unison, “Well not when you are breastfeeding!” and I was all “Ok, but eventually your kid will eat solid food and then there will be that day when she eats and entire can of olives and you are going to find those partially digested olives in her diaper and then you are going to have to deal with that.” If you had been there, on the olive diaper day, you would get my point.  

 So Jasmine and Bernice, left me, exasperated with me and my plastic diapers and I returned to casually wandering around the store looking nonchalant when I was really planning to burn up those stupid death toys that had, again, made a noisy appearance. I happened to wander by the section of Gently Used Diapers and I picked up a bright green one. I was holding it, considering how cute it would look over Norah’s Luvs when I caught a whif of patchouli. Patchouli! On the green Gently Used Diaper! I threw it back in the bin and hurried away.  

 Eventually the death toys were put in time out, which was a good thing because I just knew that Norah and Isaiah were going to break them and then I would have to buy all 6 of those stupid toys and then they would be in my house FOREVER! And soon after, we left. I fell in love with an octopus t-shirt, some Simple shoes, and Norah banged her head on the concrete floor a few times, just to get a laugh. Other than that, we left unscathed.  

Later that afternoon I was reflecting on my experience and I sent this conclusion to Jasmine via text message: Dear Jasmine,
I love that you are going green but if you start wearing Patchouli deodorant I don’t think I will be able to continue this relationship.  

     

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That is the story of our adventure! Isn’t motherhood amazing! It is like driving to a destination. You can take lots of ways, back roads or highs walk or plane or train, to get to where you are going. It really doesn’t matter how you get there, as long as you do so safely. So regardless if you cloth diaper, use conventional, breastfeed or don’t, spank or redirect… all that REALLY matters is that each Momma has made a decision that best fits her family and helps her be the mom she wants to be, while keeping her sanity!  

Cheers!  

♥ Jasmine and Sadie  

 

A couple of Ambien/Anti-Anxiety meds later and we are all better.

Now that Addison will be here in less than 11 weeks, we have started to revisit the idea of how we will diaper her. After keeping a little boy alive for 2.5 years I decided that pee and poop are not my forte. When I encounter these things I usually follow up with a deep retching noise and have to wave my hands frantically in the air and think about something else. This has been exasperated by pregnancy (duh), but I don’t know if it will go away. I still have that stupid voice in my head, nagging, “your kids have skin allergies- cloth is better… think about the environment, your checkbook….” 

**Listen nagging voice! If we had to put a price on my comfort, it would faaaaaaaaar outweigh the pocketbook (and then environment, if we are being honest here).

But alas. I still find myself thinking back to why I don’t use certain detergents, body washes, shampoos, etc. That same reason is the original reason why we weren’t interested in conventional diapers. So. I have a couple of weeks (before I really have to start buying diapers) before I make my decision. Has anyone else out there had experience with cloth diapers? I am bringing all opinions into my knowledge arsenal. Wish me luck!