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The 4th Trimester: Thoughts from a Boston Doula on Birth, Postpartum, Breastfeeding, and more
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Posted on Thursday, August 23, 2012 1:05 PM
 People are fond of saying that babies are easy, because if they cry, they only want one of three things: to eat, to sleep, or to have their diaper changed. I now spend more time coaching and preparing clients for their first 2 weeks home than I had in previous years, because so many said they felt prepared to give birth, but were completely blind-sided by bringing home a baby. It's a fast transition. One day you are going about your life, when life stops because you go into labor. A few days after that's all done, if you have your baby in a hospital, you go home to a totally different world. I've heard many clients speak about their maternity/parental leave as if it's time off. In preparation for the new baby, perhaps they have moved or undergone some renovation in their house, and while they are home with the new baby, they will finish unpacking boxes. Or they'll put together the scrap book of mementos they've been collecting during the pregnancy. What they know is that they are on leave from their office, but what they do not know is that they will be working harder than ever. In a way, the people who say babies only need three things are right - but here are some caveats: 1. Babies eat. Many times a day. When I get a call from a new mom who is breastfeeding, she may be worried that she doesn't have enough milk because her baby wants to eat every 90 minutes. But this is not at all uncommon, and it does not suggest a low milk supply. Particularly in those early weeks, breastfeeding can be a project that involves more hands than just the mama's and the baby's, and just setting up to nurse can take 15 minutes on its own. The baby's latch may need some doing and redoing, and that's another 15 minutes. And then the baby wants to nurse, sometimes for 30 minutes. And after a good stretch and diaper change, the baby could nurse for another 30 minutes on the other side. If you add up all those numbers, you've got a baby who is nursing just about all day. It is no wonder more breastfeeding mothers don't leave the house in those early days; getting dressed, especially from the waist up, just isn't an efficient use of time. 2. Babies do sleep, and I would shout this from the rooftops of the row houses in my neighborhood if I could...but baby sleep is not at all under anyone's control. They may be so cozy while nursing that they fall asleep mid-suckle. They may continue to suckle while sleeping. They may have a day where they do nothing but sleep, and rouse every 3 hours to nurse. And then the next day, they will begin the every-ninety minute cluster feeding described above, and it lasts for 3 days. The baby just wants to eat, regardless of time, and sleep, regardless of daylight. 3. Babies digest food quickly, whether breastfeeding or formula feeding. So if you are feeding your baby 8-12 times a day or more, that's how often you are changing diapers. And in the interval of time that you may have between feedings, changing a diaper is sometimes all you can squeeze in. To help them survive, there are two things I like to impress upon new parents: Let Go of whatever image you had in your heads of what your days-old baby would be like and what this time would be like. That sweet baby that is on the cover the latest parenting magazine or the cover of the baby guide book? Or the slumbering baby in the diaper commercial? And the baby model in the adorable baby clothes store? That baby isn't a newborn. That baby is probably 5-6 months old. Five to six months older than the sweet and delicate newborn in your arms who is 5-6 days old. Many moms tell me that when they observe their new baby, they recognize movements as the patterns of movement the baby did while in utero. A 5-6 day old baby is more of a fetus outside your body than he or she is the baby that you expected. (Case in point, even to find a stock image of a stressed out mom to use for this post, I couldn't find a baby that I could confidently guess was less than 3 months old.) New moms groups are great for this. Bring your 3 week old baby and compare him to the 11 weeker beside you. World of difference. And, this will not last forever. Ask anyone. Even the mother of a 7 week old will attest to that (and remember that a 7 week old is a good 40 or so days older than the baby you just brought home from the hospital). Babies in those early days are on an EatSleepPoop continuum. The days are coming when getting set up to feed your baby will not take nearly as long as actually feeding your baby, and your baby will also not eat for as long as he or she may be eating now. Until those days come, hang in there. There are days where you will only survive, and there, too, will be days when you sail. Let dishes pile up in the sink, let wet clothes sit in your washing machine, or accept friends' and family's offers to help and take them to task. New parenting is a multi-layered experience of being overcome with love and overwhelmed with responsibility while a tidal wave of exhaustion is crashing over your head. The days of parenting a newborn are long, but the time still goes quickly. Your baby's alert time, the eye contact, the play time, the smiles, and the raspberries they make with their beautiful full lips are coming. Sooner than you know, they will be here. |
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Posted on Wednesday, June 20, 2012 3:52 PM
Becoming a mother for the first time is a transformative, life-changing experience, and there are many ways we honor that rite of passage– baby showers, gift registries, or the patient vigil as we wait for the first twinges of labor and the subsequent joyous announcement of birth. Second-time moms navigate a changing emotional landscape of their own as well, and it often gets lost in the consuming logistics of caring for two young children with competing, immediate needs. But when women are given the space to share their thoughts about their second time as mothers, they share much more than just the “how-to’s” of juggling two kids on one lap. In preparing for the next New to Two Moms group, I began thinking of my own experience with the birth of my 2nd daughter (she ultimately became my middle daughter, but that’s a post of its own!). For me, some things I knew would be easier. Labor, for one thing. I’d already done it once before, and I had an idea of what to expect. My second baby was born in 7 hours compared to my first in 16. Nursing – I’d nursed my first child for 16 months; it would be fine. And I’d learned that a crying baby is not a suffering baby – something that nearly all new mothers need to learn and truly believe. There were the logistical challenges that, while anticipated, could test the patience of a saint – a baby who spits up all over her clothes just as the older child is finally ready to step out the front door, or the older child who climbs to the top of the jungle gym and can’t get down, just as you sit down on the park bench to nurse the baby, or the older child who bursts into tears because she can’t draw the perfect pony while, simultaneously, the baby is wailing because she’s cold or hot or hungry or sleepy or whatever. Those moments are part of what I bargained for when adding a child to my family, the tough blips in an afternoon that will one day be funny, and will one day be worth it, for all the reasons why I wanted to give my first child a sibling. This is what surprised me: my older daughter was not a big girl, the idea I’d been selling her on since I learned I was pregnant. On the first morning of her sister’s life, my older daughter came to the hospital to see meet the baby. She was sweet and gentle with her baby sister, and I was doubtful that she, sitting gangly on my hospital bed beside an hours’ old newborn, had ever really been that small. How did she get so big so fast? She stayed for a short while; we didn’t want to overwhelm her, so when she said she wanted to go home, my husband gathered her things. She looked at me in my hospital gown, looked at the baby in the little crib, and realized that I was not going home with her. She began to cry, asking me to come home. I picked her up, and she folded her little body right into mine, wrapping her legs around my ribs. In my arms, she wasn’t that much bigger than the baby I had just given birth to hours before. My husband and I had already decided that I would stay in the hospital with the baby on my own at night, wanting to savor the sanctuary that the hospital would provide me, what I imagined as my only time alone with this new baby. But as my 3 year old clung fiercely to my body, her tears wetting my shoulder, I realized that my time alone with my first baby had come to an end. I held her just as tightly, my heart breaking because I didn’t want to say goodbye to her or our special time together. The transition to two is at once filled with familiarity and surprises. What are the things that surprised you? |
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Posted on Saturday, June 16, 2012 10:07 AM
In the no-obligation, pre-contract meeting I hold with couples, fathers often ask questions about how my role in labor support differs from their role in labor support. Most of the time, fathers’ concerns are eased when I tell them that I offer them support, too. Like most of the mothers I work for, the fathers have never seen a birth before, either on video or live, and they like knowing that they have someone with experience to guide them; they also like knowing that it’s okay to take a break during labor – even though their wives generally don’t get one. But I also like to tell them that I know my place in a labor, and while I may know where to lay my hand on their wives’ bodies, or I can guess a better-than-ballpark estimate about dilation, there is no way I can replicate the intimate knowledge, safety, and support of a life partner. And even though they aren’t the ones in labor, this moment also belongs to them, as fathers who are witnesses to the one birth of this one child. I’ve seen fathers: - Guide their wives seamlessly through one relaxing breath and into another
- Mop hot foreheads with ice cold water
- Sit in a shower with their laboring wives
- Sit in a shower with their laboring and vomiting wives
I’ve seen fathers: - Whisper in their wives’ ears a small detail that only they would know, like a walk on a past vacation, or the time this baby was conceived, or the name of this baby once he or she will be born
- Stretch out their sore fingers and cramped hands, just before going back to massage that one, hard-to-find spot on their wives’ backs
- Crack a joke that truly wasn’t funny, but his wife appreciated his sense of timing and that he knew she’d laugh anyway, and a laugh is exactly what everyone needed
- Catch their babies as they emerge from the mothers’ bodies
- Cradle a newborn baby and put their arms around their wives, encircling their brand new family
I’ve seen fathers: - Wide-eyed and marveled by the superhuman strength and endurance of a woman in labor
- Wide-eyed and terrified, but bravely holding their wives’ hands with certainty
- Wide-eyed, marveled and terrified, by the tenacious grip of their minutes’ old baby’s fist around their own fingertip
- Weep with gratitude, relief, pride, and love.
Happy Fathers Day to all the men I’ve had the honor to watch become fathers. |
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Posted on Sunday, June 03, 2012 10:45 PM
Becoming a mother for the first time is an intense amount of change in a relatively short time. Women are pregnant, on average, for 40 weeks - and yes, that’s TEN months, not nine! That’s nearly a year of gradual change, some that is so subtle that it goes undetected early on even by the mother. You have forty weeks to get used to being pregnant, and if you’re lucky you get to enjoy most of it, and if you’re like many, you are ready for the end of it. And just when it’s time for a change, labor begins. And everything changes. Fast. There’s a lot to learn. There’s a lot to process. It can be overwhelming to think of doing all that on your own in a vacuum. There are many different New Moms Groups out there – some are free and run by volunteers trained by an agency; some charge a fee, whether it is a drop-in fee with different people coming and going each week, or a set group of people making a weekly commitment for a defined period of time; some are run with subtle differences, depending on if the facilitators hold degrees in health/human services, psychology, or nursing. Some have focused populations: breastfeeding moms, adoptive moms, lesbian moms, single moms. Whatever group you choose, here are six compelling reasons to go: 1. Other Mothers. Three women walk into room: a poet, an attorney, and a librarian. What is the one thing they have in common? Motherhood. They are all new moms to brand new babies, and that’s no joke! Nothing unifies women more than the visceral experience of giving birth, caring for a baby around the clock, and the philosophical and emotional changes in the aftermath. It doesn’t matter if at any other time in your life you never, ever could have come up with a single word to say to these other women -- because these days, you have a lot to talk about. So whether you are building your tribe, cultivating community, or finding strength in numbers – a new moms group is the place to do it. 2. A Place to Go. The logistics of driving alone with a baby, or clicking together the infant carrier and the stroller, or getting tangled up in the baby wrap may just be too much to take on. But it's good to get out and get a change of scenery, despite the enormous effort. 3. A Place to Go Outside the House At a Particular Time. Numbers 2 and 3 are actually closely related, but they are indeed separate goals and double the victory when achieved. Getting out of the house by (insert whatever o’clock here) seems reasonable, when all you have to do is get yourself and that little person dressed. But it’s amazing when you’re up at 6AM to feed and change the baby, that suddenly it’s 6PM and it’s time to feed and change the baby. You are still in your pajamas, and you figure– I may as well stay in them, and stay home. 4. A Place to Go Where People Want to See YOU. When you do leave the house, you’ll go to the pediatrician’s office, where you’ll talk about the baby. You’ll go to the box store where you’ll buy things the baby needs. You’ll call your mother/sister/girlfriend who will ask: “How’s the baby?” You’ll talk about the baby at a moms group, to be sure; but in moms groups, you’ll also talk about yourself. Or you’ll talk about wine. Or you’ll talk about the last time you ate out – and some of you may live vicariously and therapeutically through those stories. But you’ll have the chance to remember that in addition to the wonderful experience you are having as a mother, there are thoughts/desires/actions you have outside of your new identity, too. 5. Q&A Like You’ve Never Thought Possible. What is that layer of flaky grease on my baby’s scalp? How much sleep is normal? My breasts will what?? How do I use that babycarrier? Is that cry normal? There are 100 million possible answers to a million questions – and while that can be overwhelming, it is also a way to learn from one another, stay creative, and keep on trying. 6. Perspective. For the better part of your pregnancy, you saw babies everywhere you looked –particularly in glossy parenting and pregnancy magazines, as well as TV commercials. Those babies were sleeping, cooing, or smiling (or sleeping AND smiling, and I’m about to explain why that’s ridiculous). If I had to guess, as the mother of 3 babies and as a doula who has seen over 100 babies born, those beautiful,chubby-cheeked baby models are perhaps 5 months old. A 5 month old is no longer a newborn baby. A newborn baby, a baby that is perhaps 1-2 weeks old, is an entirely different creature. A newborn baby is truly a helpless being, with only instinctive reflexes as their movements. They are not smiling at you or cooing; they may not even have their eyes in focus. Instead, you are protecting the pulsating soft spot on their head while trying to keep a nipple and not their fists in their mewling mouths.You are trying to figure out how to weave their tiny arms beneath the strap of their car seat, which dwarfs them in size. In fact, at the right moment, they are at once beautiful and helpless and terrifying. When you are with a group of women and their newborn babies, some who are 2 weeks old, some who are 10 weeks old, you will understand just where your baby is developmentally and how you can realistically expect to interact with your baby. It may be a few weeks before you get those smiles. But hold on, the mother of the 10 week old will tell you –those smiles are coming. And weeks later, when your baby is 10 weeks old, and you meet the mom of a 2 weeker and in whose eyes you see your own reflection, you’ll tell her the same thing, and you’ll realize that not only have you come a long way; you, too, are an expert. . |
birth stories, birth on TV, motherhood, breastfeeding, newborns, postpartum, new moms, baby blues, Boston, New Moms Groups, babies on TV
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Posted on Thursday, April 12, 2012 5:31 PM
Another blogpost that has gone viral. Nearly everyone in my mother-baby/birth Facebook world is sharing April Perry's post entitled: "Your Children Want You!" I hesitated to read it, thinking it would be another one of those I-won't-judge-you-while-I-silently-judge-you posts about parenting. Like all mothers, I worry because I don't remember if I served a vegetable last night, and if I did, if it was a super green one or an inferior yellow one, or perhaps it was even ketchup...or because my childrens' mismatched bed linens (gasp!) don't have a coordinating valance on the windows...or that they wear mostly hand-me-down clothes instead of those beautiful outfits modeled by children running in a golden wheat field, shot and photographed with a soft lens...and I feel guilty, like I'm not giving my children what they want and what they need. In short, that I am coming up short. And then I read a post like this -- by another mother who is working hard and is tired as she meets the demands of her growing children, just as her own mother gets older and needs more care. I realize that all my children want is me - their mother - to find their jokes funny, to read them stories, to hug them. I feel it in my veins that it's true, because if I could go back to the sweetest memories with my mother, they are not about the clothes she bought me or the way she decorated my room, and they certainly don't include non-processed, organic foods. The memories are vague now because of the years that have passed, but what is clear is that it's just her and me, and it's so visceral that it feels like it's happening today, yet simultaneously I grieve because not only is it not happening today, it was actually over so very, very long ago. But I knew it then, as I know it now - all I wanted and needed was my mother, and I had her. And so as I use the microwave tonight to prepare a monochromatic dinner from a box, I am confident that my children have all they need and want. |
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