Hello Dear Boobjuicers and Friends!
My little nursling is sleeping (for now) on my lap, and I am typing with my arms awkwardly aloft over her, laptop on my knees. We'll see how long that lasts. I still want to write up a comparison of the care surrounding a hospital birth and a birth center birth. But first I wanted to share some steps I have taken after Jackie's birth to make sure things go as well as they can.
Robert and I had latch challenges, yeast, and post partum anxiety (well me not him on that one) and this time I am determined to nip all that crap in the bud. After Jackie was born it looked to me like her jaw was pulled back a bit, which I suspected was contributing to our latch problems. So I got her some cranial sacral therapy - on her second day of life, in the birth center, from a fabulous woman who came the same day one of the post partum doulas called her. This made an immediate, visible difference in several ways, but we still had latch problems. So I had a lactation consultant come see us on day three, again, still in the birth center. Interestingly, she teaches latching totally differently from the woman I saw in Southern California. Could be a change in standard practice, or regional, who knows. But her way is easier, and is working pretty well now. She also suspected yeast and got one of the midwives to confirm this diagnosis. So I'm on crazy amounts of probiotics, and grapefruit seed extract, and Jackie's on probiotics too. The LC came to my home a few days later for a follow up. This has been tremendously helpful, and we are doing much better.
Then about a week, maybe nine days in, I noticed I'm scared of the balcony again. Smells like post partum anxiety. I am not having this crap this time thankyouverymuch. I immediately called my acupuncturist's office and got a next day appointment. It's helping too, and interestingly, the hypnobirthing techniques really help me to push the crazy thoughts away more effectively than I could before. I also discussed my placenta medicine with him and got dosing instructions. Yes, you read that right. Placenta. As in, I had that thing cooked, dehydrated, powdered, and encapsulated, and I'm swallowing it. "Eeeeew!" right? Well, not to me. Most mammals eat the placenta as sushi right after birth. This is much more innocuous - it actually looks a lot like the grapefruit seed extract capsules. And traditional medicine practices have used it for millennia for post partum anxiety and depression, to boost milk supply, and even to treat menopause. Frankly at this point if someone came up with some studies to show that PPA could be warded off by wearing banana peels in your hair, I'd be happy to give it a shot.
"Geez, Suzi, what did you spend on all this?" Well that's a good point. A non-trivial amount, although the cranial sacral was complementary with the massage that was part of the stay at the birth center (which is SHEER GENIUS). It's more than worth it to me. But then I am in a position to say that. A lot of women in this country don't have the option of just picking up the phone and calling some specialist at the first hint of trouble. And that doesn't feel right to me, particularly in the case of the lactation consultant. Some insurance companies will pay for LCs, and a lot of hospitals offer support in the form of one hopelessly overscheduled RN who is an IBCLC as well. I think we can do better. Every mama deserves a doula, an LC, whatever the heck it takes to ward off PPA and PPD, and a massage. And ice cream. This is one of the many, many ways we can, without guilt-tripping anyone, improve breastfeeding rates in this country, not to mention women's health generally.
Spread the word.
Much love,
Suzi
Friday, October 7, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Jackie's Birth
Hello Dear Readers!
This is a totally unapologetic, no goo censored version of my birthing of my daughter. Uncensored. Meaning don't read it while you are eating. And I've sort of barely proofread it because I need to go pee before my little blessing wants to nurse again! But I wanted to get it written before more time had passed.
Much Love,
Suzi
I woke up with more frequent practice surges, and they felt more like menstrual cramps than their predecessors. After some standard morning routine stuff, I called my doula, Carissa, and described what was going on. She thought they were early labor, but of course that could go on for a while. I said what I wanted to do was go to the grocery store and then have a quiet afternoon, maybe watch a movie. Carissa thought that sounded good, it was a nice morning, and we could check in later.
The surges got a bit more intense while I was grocery shopping, which kept me focused, which is good because I am usually a grocery store dawdler. Not this time, boy howdy. By the time I reached the checkout counter I was needing to belly dance through the surges (subtly, I hope). I of course got the slowest checker in Oregon. By the time I got home I was glad I didn't have to drive anymore. I came in the door (with only the two lightest grocery bags) and said, "I think this baby's coming." Matt leapt into action. I asked him to call Erick to come get Robert, then go get the rest of the groceries (he very wisely put the meat straight into the freezer), and I went off to call Carissa again. Then I called Melissa, my lead midwife. She agreed that it was early labor but pointed out that it could go on for days or even stop. I felt skeptical.
I went to the bathroom, needing to poop, but not able to sit still enough on the toilet to accomplish this task. Cloth diaper mamas are not afraid to poop on a bathmat! Thank heaven. Carissa was getting ready to come check on me, and thankfully I had suggested that she call before actually getting in the car, because by the time she did, I had decided to go to the birth center. Katherine, assistant midwife, asked if we could give them half an hour - "Probably?" the idea horrified me but it probably took that long to get clothes on and get me and the stuff down to the car. A slightly bewildered neighbor held the elevator for us and let us go ahead, probably not wanting to see my water break in the elevator (fair enough!), wishing us good luck. Walking was hard but sort of felt good, in fact moving around felt better than not. The car ride was challenging. I rolled down the window a bit for the air, and Matt got us there in less than ten minutes (LOVE Portland). Apparently I was screaming through surges (well I'll say moaning really loudly) on the ride, too, with said window open. (Um, Hi Portland! We love you…) We pulled up to the birth center and Carissa opened the door. I yelled through another surge and Carissa took my hand and said, "That's the last one you have to do in the car." Hallelujah!
Getting up the stairs to the front door was interesting. We were in a downstairs room, for which I was grateful. I don't remember a lot of the sequence of events from this point. I know I was leaning on the tub, listening to it fill. I remember crawling into the tub. The water was pleasant, but not the Nirvana of Comfort I had built up in my mind (apparently for some mamas it is) and I couldn't really find a position that felt good. I tried a couple, sitting cross legged and leaning on the edge of the tub, laying back on Matt. The surges were very powerful by this point, and I was trying to keep my tone low as I moan/screamed through them. I also did a lot of squeezing Matt's extremities, apparently cutting off circulation to his hand a couple times but mostly favoring forearms and calves. I remember asking if my body could do this without my brain, and being reassured that in fact it would do so better. "Can we take my brain out and put it in the fridge?" I think I asked. Because really, it wasn't that the surges hurt, so much as that they were so powerful and overwhelming that I just wanted to let them happen without having to be present for them mentally. This, of course, is the point of hypnobirthing, but having spent the first five centimeters in Fred Meyer, I missed my chance to really establish that great hypnotic state in which I would be able to let the surges wash over and past me like an ocean wave. But who knew this would go so fast!
So at some point we got out of the tub and tried the toilet, sitting forwards and backwards. Not comfy. So we moved to a birth stool. I don't remember when we started pushing, I think in the tub, but on the birth stool we were PUSHING. I was instructed to pull down with my arms and push through the surges. This felt counter intuitive - I wanted to push up with my arms. Neither way was doing the trick. I felt the baby's head, and then again a while later, and it hadn't progressed since moving to the birth stool. "She's stuck!" I wailed. "She's not stuck." Katherine assured me. "She hasn't moved down any." "Then it's time to change position." They put me in the bed on my back with my knees in the air. This felt MUCH BETTER. it helped the pressure on my back (not like back labor but not yummy), it slowed down the surges a little bit for a while, which was a pleasant rest, and my pushing felt different.
At some point in the tub I had complained that I didn't want to scream any more but it didn't feel voluntary. I tried singing/harmonic chanting through them, which helped some. I tried saying, "yes," to encourage my brain to accept the surges as a good thing (I got this from a home birth mama years ago, felt goofy but helped for a bit). Well, by the time we were in the bed pushing, there were wild banshee screams coming out of me and I had no say in the matter. My throat was getting tired, even though I was sipping Gatorade or water between every contraction. While I was on the birth stool I got hungry (recall I didn't get lunch after the grocery store - thank goodness for that medium decaf mocha freddo I had while shopping!) The midwives offered me food but I found it difficult to believe eating could be a good idea. Wasn't I supposed to be vomiting? So at this on the bed pushing like heck phase I said, "I'm running out of steam." "Then you need to eat." A popsicle was selected as most appealing to me - it was probably the best popsicle I ever ate. Carissa fed me bites between contractions.
The pushing was making progress at this point, and the feeling would change and the reaction of my Birth Posse (Hubby, three midwives, plus doula equals birth posse!) would change to let me know we were getting somewhere. At some point they offered me an oxygen mask, not insisting but suggesting, with which I was happy to cooperate. The decelerations in the baby's heart rate were acceptable but getting more pronounced and I wanted to do anything necessary to help her bounce back as fast as possible. The mask was hot and I didn't like to wear it during surges/pushes, but I put it back on or asked for it back between. This was when "sleep breathing" to let go of the surge became really helpful, the baby's heart rate reacted to my deep breathing fairly immediately. Soon she crowned, and I could feel her head coming out. The stretching became burning, and I felt some tearing. "OUCH!" at the end of push moans. Technique says slow down to let your perineum stretch more and I remembered this but I needed to be DONE and was okay with the discomfort.
Then her head was out! Yay! So why wasn't I done? Well, she was facing to the side. Left side, specifically, which makes sense because sleeping on my right felt best for most of my third trimester. Also, her hand was up by her cheek. So pushing out her shoulders was as hard or maybe harder than pushing out her head. Katherine took her hand and pulled her arm out (I think, I should verify with Matt) and then YAY! There's a warm, gooey baby on my tummy!!! The relief I felt from the surges being done was immense. I had spent a lot of time in the labor telling myself this was just a moment in time, it would be over soon, etc., and here it was, done! Baby! She felt just right resting on my heart where she belongs. The midwives were happy with how she looked and was sounding and everything, and I was over the moon. When the placenta came out I got another big surge (not nearly as big as the ones that got the baby out) and a gush of warm jello-like feeling and liquid, and then that was it. Done. I birthed my baby out my vagina without any meds (which is ONLY because I was in the birth center because I almost asked for them at least a dozen times but the thought of the trip to the hospital stopped me) just like I wanted. Several times during the experience I thought to myself, well if THIS is what I was missing it was silly of me to be so upset about how Robert's birth went! But now I am so grateful for this birth experience. When the midwives told me Jackie was 9 pounds 3 ounces I was astounded. I don't know how many times after that I said "Nine pounds?!?!?"
I needed stitching up, but they wanted to feed me first to get my strength up and let the swelling go down a bit. "Oh okay," I murmured skeptically, and then, "OOOooo, pasta!!!" I munched my way through half a (massive) serving of veggie lasagna from Pastini, which was delicious. Soon they got me up to go pee - I had gotten to the birth center around 2, and Jackie was born at 5:24. The labor was so lightening fast that I didn't manage to pee - even when I was laboring on the toilet I couldn't get the pee to come out. About 2/3 of the way to the toilet I got woozy, and when they sat me down I realized I was going to faint. I woke up to Melissa holding me up like a teddy bear, saying "are you with me Suzanne?" I dreamt during the faint and woke up with a song in my head that I had heard on the radio on my drive from the grocery store (dancing on the edge of the Hollywood sign…). Still no peeing accomplished. They put me in a wheelchair and got me back to and into bed. I lay there feeling like maybe I ate more lasagna than was really wise for a while, but eventually felt better, and we got me onto a bedside commode. PEEEEEE! Seriously you know that scene in the second Austen Powers movie where they get him out of cryosleep? Lots and lots of pee.
Now it was time to stitch me up. I was super apprehensive about the lydocaine, and asked Susannah (apprentice midwife) to pet my head and chat with me to distract me. It wasn't too bad, a couple of the shots in the perineum were pretty stingy but it was much better than when I was 15 and needed stitches in my face from a fall. Katherine stitched me up while Melissa watched, and Melissa praised Katherine's work, which made me feel good. They used purple thread, which amuses me because they know I like purple. Another trip to the bedside commode and it was time for sleep!
More thoughts later on the stay at the birth center, etc.
This is a totally unapologetic, no goo censored version of my birthing of my daughter. Uncensored. Meaning don't read it while you are eating. And I've sort of barely proofread it because I need to go pee before my little blessing wants to nurse again! But I wanted to get it written before more time had passed.
Much Love,
Suzi
I woke up with more frequent practice surges, and they felt more like menstrual cramps than their predecessors. After some standard morning routine stuff, I called my doula, Carissa, and described what was going on. She thought they were early labor, but of course that could go on for a while. I said what I wanted to do was go to the grocery store and then have a quiet afternoon, maybe watch a movie. Carissa thought that sounded good, it was a nice morning, and we could check in later.
The surges got a bit more intense while I was grocery shopping, which kept me focused, which is good because I am usually a grocery store dawdler. Not this time, boy howdy. By the time I reached the checkout counter I was needing to belly dance through the surges (subtly, I hope). I of course got the slowest checker in Oregon. By the time I got home I was glad I didn't have to drive anymore. I came in the door (with only the two lightest grocery bags) and said, "I think this baby's coming." Matt leapt into action. I asked him to call Erick to come get Robert, then go get the rest of the groceries (he very wisely put the meat straight into the freezer), and I went off to call Carissa again. Then I called Melissa, my lead midwife. She agreed that it was early labor but pointed out that it could go on for days or even stop. I felt skeptical.
I went to the bathroom, needing to poop, but not able to sit still enough on the toilet to accomplish this task. Cloth diaper mamas are not afraid to poop on a bathmat! Thank heaven. Carissa was getting ready to come check on me, and thankfully I had suggested that she call before actually getting in the car, because by the time she did, I had decided to go to the birth center. Katherine, assistant midwife, asked if we could give them half an hour - "Probably?" the idea horrified me but it probably took that long to get clothes on and get me and the stuff down to the car. A slightly bewildered neighbor held the elevator for us and let us go ahead, probably not wanting to see my water break in the elevator (fair enough!), wishing us good luck. Walking was hard but sort of felt good, in fact moving around felt better than not. The car ride was challenging. I rolled down the window a bit for the air, and Matt got us there in less than ten minutes (LOVE Portland). Apparently I was screaming through surges (well I'll say moaning really loudly) on the ride, too, with said window open. (Um, Hi Portland! We love you…) We pulled up to the birth center and Carissa opened the door. I yelled through another surge and Carissa took my hand and said, "That's the last one you have to do in the car." Hallelujah!
Getting up the stairs to the front door was interesting. We were in a downstairs room, for which I was grateful. I don't remember a lot of the sequence of events from this point. I know I was leaning on the tub, listening to it fill. I remember crawling into the tub. The water was pleasant, but not the Nirvana of Comfort I had built up in my mind (apparently for some mamas it is) and I couldn't really find a position that felt good. I tried a couple, sitting cross legged and leaning on the edge of the tub, laying back on Matt. The surges were very powerful by this point, and I was trying to keep my tone low as I moan/screamed through them. I also did a lot of squeezing Matt's extremities, apparently cutting off circulation to his hand a couple times but mostly favoring forearms and calves. I remember asking if my body could do this without my brain, and being reassured that in fact it would do so better. "Can we take my brain out and put it in the fridge?" I think I asked. Because really, it wasn't that the surges hurt, so much as that they were so powerful and overwhelming that I just wanted to let them happen without having to be present for them mentally. This, of course, is the point of hypnobirthing, but having spent the first five centimeters in Fred Meyer, I missed my chance to really establish that great hypnotic state in which I would be able to let the surges wash over and past me like an ocean wave. But who knew this would go so fast!
So at some point we got out of the tub and tried the toilet, sitting forwards and backwards. Not comfy. So we moved to a birth stool. I don't remember when we started pushing, I think in the tub, but on the birth stool we were PUSHING. I was instructed to pull down with my arms and push through the surges. This felt counter intuitive - I wanted to push up with my arms. Neither way was doing the trick. I felt the baby's head, and then again a while later, and it hadn't progressed since moving to the birth stool. "She's stuck!" I wailed. "She's not stuck." Katherine assured me. "She hasn't moved down any." "Then it's time to change position." They put me in the bed on my back with my knees in the air. This felt MUCH BETTER. it helped the pressure on my back (not like back labor but not yummy), it slowed down the surges a little bit for a while, which was a pleasant rest, and my pushing felt different.
At some point in the tub I had complained that I didn't want to scream any more but it didn't feel voluntary. I tried singing/harmonic chanting through them, which helped some. I tried saying, "yes," to encourage my brain to accept the surges as a good thing (I got this from a home birth mama years ago, felt goofy but helped for a bit). Well, by the time we were in the bed pushing, there were wild banshee screams coming out of me and I had no say in the matter. My throat was getting tired, even though I was sipping Gatorade or water between every contraction. While I was on the birth stool I got hungry (recall I didn't get lunch after the grocery store - thank goodness for that medium decaf mocha freddo I had while shopping!) The midwives offered me food but I found it difficult to believe eating could be a good idea. Wasn't I supposed to be vomiting? So at this on the bed pushing like heck phase I said, "I'm running out of steam." "Then you need to eat." A popsicle was selected as most appealing to me - it was probably the best popsicle I ever ate. Carissa fed me bites between contractions.
The pushing was making progress at this point, and the feeling would change and the reaction of my Birth Posse (Hubby, three midwives, plus doula equals birth posse!) would change to let me know we were getting somewhere. At some point they offered me an oxygen mask, not insisting but suggesting, with which I was happy to cooperate. The decelerations in the baby's heart rate were acceptable but getting more pronounced and I wanted to do anything necessary to help her bounce back as fast as possible. The mask was hot and I didn't like to wear it during surges/pushes, but I put it back on or asked for it back between. This was when "sleep breathing" to let go of the surge became really helpful, the baby's heart rate reacted to my deep breathing fairly immediately. Soon she crowned, and I could feel her head coming out. The stretching became burning, and I felt some tearing. "OUCH!" at the end of push moans. Technique says slow down to let your perineum stretch more and I remembered this but I needed to be DONE and was okay with the discomfort.
Then her head was out! Yay! So why wasn't I done? Well, she was facing to the side. Left side, specifically, which makes sense because sleeping on my right felt best for most of my third trimester. Also, her hand was up by her cheek. So pushing out her shoulders was as hard or maybe harder than pushing out her head. Katherine took her hand and pulled her arm out (I think, I should verify with Matt) and then YAY! There's a warm, gooey baby on my tummy!!! The relief I felt from the surges being done was immense. I had spent a lot of time in the labor telling myself this was just a moment in time, it would be over soon, etc., and here it was, done! Baby! She felt just right resting on my heart where she belongs. The midwives were happy with how she looked and was sounding and everything, and I was over the moon. When the placenta came out I got another big surge (not nearly as big as the ones that got the baby out) and a gush of warm jello-like feeling and liquid, and then that was it. Done. I birthed my baby out my vagina without any meds (which is ONLY because I was in the birth center because I almost asked for them at least a dozen times but the thought of the trip to the hospital stopped me) just like I wanted. Several times during the experience I thought to myself, well if THIS is what I was missing it was silly of me to be so upset about how Robert's birth went! But now I am so grateful for this birth experience. When the midwives told me Jackie was 9 pounds 3 ounces I was astounded. I don't know how many times after that I said "Nine pounds?!?!?"
I needed stitching up, but they wanted to feed me first to get my strength up and let the swelling go down a bit. "Oh okay," I murmured skeptically, and then, "OOOooo, pasta!!!" I munched my way through half a (massive) serving of veggie lasagna from Pastini, which was delicious. Soon they got me up to go pee - I had gotten to the birth center around 2, and Jackie was born at 5:24. The labor was so lightening fast that I didn't manage to pee - even when I was laboring on the toilet I couldn't get the pee to come out. About 2/3 of the way to the toilet I got woozy, and when they sat me down I realized I was going to faint. I woke up to Melissa holding me up like a teddy bear, saying "are you with me Suzanne?" I dreamt during the faint and woke up with a song in my head that I had heard on the radio on my drive from the grocery store (dancing on the edge of the Hollywood sign…). Still no peeing accomplished. They put me in a wheelchair and got me back to and into bed. I lay there feeling like maybe I ate more lasagna than was really wise for a while, but eventually felt better, and we got me onto a bedside commode. PEEEEEE! Seriously you know that scene in the second Austen Powers movie where they get him out of cryosleep? Lots and lots of pee.
Now it was time to stitch me up. I was super apprehensive about the lydocaine, and asked Susannah (apprentice midwife) to pet my head and chat with me to distract me. It wasn't too bad, a couple of the shots in the perineum were pretty stingy but it was much better than when I was 15 and needed stitches in my face from a fall. Katherine stitched me up while Melissa watched, and Melissa praised Katherine's work, which made me feel good. They used purple thread, which amuses me because they know I like purple. Another trip to the bedside commode and it was time for sleep!
More thoughts later on the stay at the birth center, etc.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Introducing Nursling #2
Hello Dear Boobuicers and Friends!
I only have a minute, but I wanted to announce that I am once again officially a boobjuicer, as Ms. Jacqueline made her debut Sunday 9/18 at 5:24 pm. She was a whopping 9 pounds 3 oz and was born super fast - I woke up feeling like something was different, figured I had tons of time, went to the grocery store (in retrospect, this was perhaps an error), and came home feeling like, nope, this means business. My cervix disappeared fast but we had to push for a couple hours, and she came out sideways. So if anyone would like to explain to me how exactly I pushed out a 9 lb baby sideways with no drugs, I'm all ears. Holy crap. Anyway I'm feeling pretty good - sore where you would think I would be sore after that, couple stitches, but waaaay better than 2 days after a c-section. Which is not to frighten anyone, a c-section is totally survivable, but this way is easier afterwards, I will say.
And in case anyone is wondering if you can have latch challenges on your second kid, yes. Yes you can.
More later, I hear baby noises.
Much love,
Suzi
I only have a minute, but I wanted to announce that I am once again officially a boobjuicer, as Ms. Jacqueline made her debut Sunday 9/18 at 5:24 pm. She was a whopping 9 pounds 3 oz and was born super fast - I woke up feeling like something was different, figured I had tons of time, went to the grocery store (in retrospect, this was perhaps an error), and came home feeling like, nope, this means business. My cervix disappeared fast but we had to push for a couple hours, and she came out sideways. So if anyone would like to explain to me how exactly I pushed out a 9 lb baby sideways with no drugs, I'm all ears. Holy crap. Anyway I'm feeling pretty good - sore where you would think I would be sore after that, couple stitches, but waaaay better than 2 days after a c-section. Which is not to frighten anyone, a c-section is totally survivable, but this way is easier afterwards, I will say.
And in case anyone is wondering if you can have latch challenges on your second kid, yes. Yes you can.
More later, I hear baby noises.
Much love,
Suzi
Friday, September 2, 2011
Busy Gestating.
Hello Dear Readers!
The entire month of August escaped me with no blog entry. Not that I didn't have anything to say, mind you (that pretty much doesn't happen, you will no doubt be shocked to hear). But I have been so busy preparing for the arrival of Blessing #2 that the month came and went and all the blog entries just rattled around in my head making me just that much more scattered and confused. Plus hubby is shooting a documentary, and my mom came to visit, and we all went to the beach (I think I'm supposed to call it "the coast" now that I'm an Oregonian but it hasn't sunk in yet) and oh, yeah, there's that job thing, with the 40 hours per week and the paychecks. Kind of important. All of which is going on while I am all big and pregnant and tired. But all this sort of pales in comparison to the todo list for this baby.
Here is the stuff I'm doing, or supposed to be doing, just to prepare to have ProtoPerson exit my uterus:
Yoga
Walking
Hypnobirthing practice - solo hypnosis with audio files, practice with husband, listening to affirmations, birth breathing practice
Make birth music mix (Hubby is on point on this one, being as he is the King of iTunes)
Perineal massage (massage is not always relaxing, I must say)
Kegels
Practice belly dancing
Pack birth bag
And then we still have prep for the actual baby:
Boil diapers (bought a massive pile of used Fuzzibunz off Craig's List - yay - but want to sterilize)
Bring new dresser in from balcony where it is outgassing (mmmm, pressboard) and load mass quantities of washed, folded hand me downs into it (currently they are in piles on my dresser, the new changing table, etc...)
Finish washing new baby clothing received
Set up loaner arms-reach cosleeper (thanks Mama G!)
Make dinners for freezer to help with crazy first weeks of life
Review stuff needed list and obtain (I think all we have left is a pad for the new changing table, and frankly I'm tempted to use old towels this time around...) (and yes, we needed a new changing table, to have one in our bedroom given that Robert is still in diapers. But I got it used from Craig's List, too.)
And things I'm doing to try to get the apartment in order before baby arrives:
Finish purging boxes of paper brought down from storage unit
Organize "desk" (now a vertical shelf unit, since all I ever do is pile it with stuff and then use my laptop at the dining table anyway)
Update mint.com, sort out budget
Shampoo carpets (okay, to be fair, I'm making Matt do this one, but I gotta get all my stuff out of the way before he can get it done).
In comparison, here is Mother Nature's todo list for birthing and motherhood:
Have sex
Wait nine months, eat a lot
Breastfeed, cuddle, eat more
Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing the elegant simplicity of this process.
Meanwhile I have my first live phone service session for the Nursing Mother's Counsel tomorrow. Woohoo! I did message checking for a week in August, and got zero messages. None. Which apparently happens sometimes, but I was disappointed. So now I have to be brave and start with live phone calls. But I'm pretty excited.
And lastly, check out this radio program from last year's Big Latch On PDX. You can hear me right near the beginning, and around 15:30 too. The whole thing is terrific though, give it a listen.
I hope you are all enjoying the last hurrah of summer before school, fall, etc.
Much love,
Suzi
The entire month of August escaped me with no blog entry. Not that I didn't have anything to say, mind you (that pretty much doesn't happen, you will no doubt be shocked to hear). But I have been so busy preparing for the arrival of Blessing #2 that the month came and went and all the blog entries just rattled around in my head making me just that much more scattered and confused. Plus hubby is shooting a documentary, and my mom came to visit, and we all went to the beach (I think I'm supposed to call it "the coast" now that I'm an Oregonian but it hasn't sunk in yet) and oh, yeah, there's that job thing, with the 40 hours per week and the paychecks. Kind of important. All of which is going on while I am all big and pregnant and tired. But all this sort of pales in comparison to the todo list for this baby.
Here is the stuff I'm doing, or supposed to be doing, just to prepare to have ProtoPerson exit my uterus:
Yoga
Walking
Hypnobirthing practice - solo hypnosis with audio files, practice with husband, listening to affirmations, birth breathing practice
Make birth music mix (Hubby is on point on this one, being as he is the King of iTunes)
Perineal massage (massage is not always relaxing, I must say)
Kegels
Practice belly dancing
Pack birth bag
And then we still have prep for the actual baby:
Boil diapers (bought a massive pile of used Fuzzibunz off Craig's List - yay - but want to sterilize)
Bring new dresser in from balcony where it is outgassing (mmmm, pressboard) and load mass quantities of washed, folded hand me downs into it (currently they are in piles on my dresser, the new changing table, etc...)
Finish washing new baby clothing received
Set up loaner arms-reach cosleeper (thanks Mama G!)
Make dinners for freezer to help with crazy first weeks of life
Review stuff needed list and obtain (I think all we have left is a pad for the new changing table, and frankly I'm tempted to use old towels this time around...) (and yes, we needed a new changing table, to have one in our bedroom given that Robert is still in diapers. But I got it used from Craig's List, too.)
And things I'm doing to try to get the apartment in order before baby arrives:
Finish purging boxes of paper brought down from storage unit
Organize "desk" (now a vertical shelf unit, since all I ever do is pile it with stuff and then use my laptop at the dining table anyway)
Update mint.com, sort out budget
Shampoo carpets (okay, to be fair, I'm making Matt do this one, but I gotta get all my stuff out of the way before he can get it done).
In comparison, here is Mother Nature's todo list for birthing and motherhood:
Have sex
Wait nine months, eat a lot
Breastfeed, cuddle, eat more
Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing the elegant simplicity of this process.
Meanwhile I have my first live phone service session for the Nursing Mother's Counsel tomorrow. Woohoo! I did message checking for a week in August, and got zero messages. None. Which apparently happens sometimes, but I was disappointed. So now I have to be brave and start with live phone calls. But I'm pretty excited.
And lastly, check out this radio program from last year's Big Latch On PDX. You can hear me right near the beginning, and around 15:30 too. The whole thing is terrific though, give it a listen.
I hope you are all enjoying the last hurrah of summer before school, fall, etc.
Much love,
Suzi
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Oof.
Hello Dear Readers!
Okay remember when I told you that you could remind me of that list of loving being pregnant when I'm all huge and uncomfortable? Well, we're there. And two months to go. I'm uncomfortable and tired and puffy and cranky at random intervals. And if anyone here knows of a visually impaired woman who could teach me how to shave my ankles, I'd be grateful for her advice, 'cause I can't see mine anymore. Except enough to see how puffy they are. That may sound like an insensitive joke, except I'm not kidding. I'm not someone who would enjoy just not shaving for two months, I can't see what I'm doing, and waxing ain't in the budget. Sigh.
But anyway, check this out. We already know that I have it pretty cushy compared to a lot of moms out there. But these ladies are just an absolute, top-notch, inspiration. I'm getting that book, too, I'll let you know if there are good tidbits in there for moms in other workplaces.
So I'm finally signed up for a message checking session with the Nursing Mothers' Counsel. I got all scared. People are going to call me and want answers! On my blog or on Facebook I have all the time I can spare between breadwinning, parenting, householding, and trying to find my ankles to look up answers for mamas. On the phone that would be a lot of awkward dead air. So message checking is a good start. It's next week, wish me luck!
Another mama in my mom friends group on facebook is getting chewed on by her teething little one. Ouch! Lots of moms had lots of suggestions for trying to get the little one to take a bottle. I suggested cold compresses on kiddo's gums before nursing, so she won't want to chew so much (hopefully), plus the old if you bite you get taken off and left to cry for a minute before you get to try again trick. For her ailing nipples I recommended nudity (as legally as possible), coconut oil (because she said the lanolin wasn't helping anymore), and cold compresses after nursing. Anyone else want to chime in? Recall Robert and I got past this because I involuntarily shrieked when he really chomped on me one time. He cried and cried and cried... like the world had ended. But he didn't bite again, or not many times after that. I did the pop him off trick too but I think it was the shriek that did it. This is a dangerous tactic, one might find oneself facing a nursing strike. In my case it was a reflex, not a tactic, and I got lucky in that it only ended that one session and then he was back at it. So I'm not recommending it, more saying, if it happens, it's okay...
I'm looking forward to nursing another little one, but I'm remembering all the ouchie parts and that pumping is a big pain in the fanny. Of course I have my military mamas to inspire me. But I'm also grateful that this time I'll be five blocks away from my little hungry one, rather than 28 miles of LA freeway (ugh). I remember all the moments I literally giggled with glee while nursing my little Robert (who, by the way, is now a big tall toddler who can make sentences and wreak all sorts of havoc - WOW it does go fast. I got so sick of people telling me that, and they were right, which makes it even more annoying that they all told me so many times...) I remember how proud I felt of how long we kept it up and how much mama milk he got, even while I was miles away pretending to be a financial professional. And I remember how sad I was when he weaned, even though it happened just as I had hoped (he chose, on his schedule) and we had gone for 21 months which is plenty. It will be interesting to see how things go with Proto. I hope they will go at least as well. Every kiddo is different, though so I can't assume. And if intra-uterine squirminess is any indication, we have a feisty one on our hands this time!!!
I hope you are all having a lovely summer. Don't get too much sun or you might get cranky and tired. Not that I'm speaking from experience today at my company picnic or anything.
Much love,
Suzi
Okay remember when I told you that you could remind me of that list of loving being pregnant when I'm all huge and uncomfortable? Well, we're there. And two months to go. I'm uncomfortable and tired and puffy and cranky at random intervals. And if anyone here knows of a visually impaired woman who could teach me how to shave my ankles, I'd be grateful for her advice, 'cause I can't see mine anymore. Except enough to see how puffy they are. That may sound like an insensitive joke, except I'm not kidding. I'm not someone who would enjoy just not shaving for two months, I can't see what I'm doing, and waxing ain't in the budget. Sigh.
But anyway, check this out. We already know that I have it pretty cushy compared to a lot of moms out there. But these ladies are just an absolute, top-notch, inspiration. I'm getting that book, too, I'll let you know if there are good tidbits in there for moms in other workplaces.
So I'm finally signed up for a message checking session with the Nursing Mothers' Counsel. I got all scared. People are going to call me and want answers! On my blog or on Facebook I have all the time I can spare between breadwinning, parenting, householding, and trying to find my ankles to look up answers for mamas. On the phone that would be a lot of awkward dead air. So message checking is a good start. It's next week, wish me luck!
Another mama in my mom friends group on facebook is getting chewed on by her teething little one. Ouch! Lots of moms had lots of suggestions for trying to get the little one to take a bottle. I suggested cold compresses on kiddo's gums before nursing, so she won't want to chew so much (hopefully), plus the old if you bite you get taken off and left to cry for a minute before you get to try again trick. For her ailing nipples I recommended nudity (as legally as possible), coconut oil (because she said the lanolin wasn't helping anymore), and cold compresses after nursing. Anyone else want to chime in? Recall Robert and I got past this because I involuntarily shrieked when he really chomped on me one time. He cried and cried and cried... like the world had ended. But he didn't bite again, or not many times after that. I did the pop him off trick too but I think it was the shriek that did it. This is a dangerous tactic, one might find oneself facing a nursing strike. In my case it was a reflex, not a tactic, and I got lucky in that it only ended that one session and then he was back at it. So I'm not recommending it, more saying, if it happens, it's okay...
I'm looking forward to nursing another little one, but I'm remembering all the ouchie parts and that pumping is a big pain in the fanny. Of course I have my military mamas to inspire me. But I'm also grateful that this time I'll be five blocks away from my little hungry one, rather than 28 miles of LA freeway (ugh). I remember all the moments I literally giggled with glee while nursing my little Robert (who, by the way, is now a big tall toddler who can make sentences and wreak all sorts of havoc - WOW it does go fast. I got so sick of people telling me that, and they were right, which makes it even more annoying that they all told me so many times...) I remember how proud I felt of how long we kept it up and how much mama milk he got, even while I was miles away pretending to be a financial professional. And I remember how sad I was when he weaned, even though it happened just as I had hoped (he chose, on his schedule) and we had gone for 21 months which is plenty. It will be interesting to see how things go with Proto. I hope they will go at least as well. Every kiddo is different, though so I can't assume. And if intra-uterine squirminess is any indication, we have a feisty one on our hands this time!!!
I hope you are all having a lovely summer. Don't get too much sun or you might get cranky and tired. Not that I'm speaking from experience today at my company picnic or anything.
Much love,
Suzi
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Class Superlatives: Biggest Boobjuicer?
Hello Dear Readers!
Today was my 20 year high school reunion (yep. 37. Lots of grey. Still not sure what it means to feel like a "grown up.") What a handsome and interesting group of folks I went to school with! Seriously I think a couple of them will look that smooth and curvy when we are 70. So the funny part is, I walk up to the group at the family picnic this afternoon, and am greeted with, "Ms. Boobjuice Herself!" Tee hee! It's true, I can't deny it. Motherhood changes people (I'm sure fatherhood does too but I can't speak from personal experience there) and the Big Loud Lactivist stick whalloped me upside the head the minute that little dude came out. As did the You Will Now Cry at Every Damn Thing that Ever Happens Ever stick. Everyone was very congratulatory about my big ol' baby belly (aw, thanks guys!) and not a one of them said "Wow you have a lot of grey for 37." Not that I thought they would really, but that's what I felt most insecure about the week leading up to the reunion. Ah well, my stylist says she'll come to the birth center... I'm kidding, I'll give the kid a few weeks to get used to how I smell before I put weird stuff on my head.
So another mama on my online mamas group is having a rough start - she has too much post-partum bleeding and was given a drug in the ER (yikes!) that is a question mark for nursing and can reduce prolactin (the "make milk now" hormone) and such. Sounds like she got a lot of the standard knee-jerk, "my insurance wants me to tell you not to breastfeed on this drug and despite being a doctor I am skeeved out by your boobs" sort of advice. (Okay not fair they are of course just trying to keep her from bleeding to death but seriously, AMA, tell your med schools to teach doctors about breastfeeding in a useful way, please.) So I thinks she's getting the help she needs to work through this in the way that is best for her and her little one. But this is so common and so frustrating! Right at the start, when poor mama is exhausted and probably freaked out and trying to learn how to nurse, and kiddo is, hello, brand new to everything, and it's so hard to get the support we need to take care of ourselves and our babies the way we want to. It's hard to research breastfeeding online when you are sleep deprived and learning how to be a mama (Ack! This creature is so tiny and delicate and they sent us home ALONE!? With no supervision???) I want our country to be a place where mama and baby get breastfeeding friendly help and support from the start without having to hunt it down in a panic in the middle of the night. Notice this would be very different from a guilt trip in a breastfeeding class before giving birth. This is like doctors who are trained well to understand breastfeeding (seriously anyone who might be treating a woman age 15-55 should know this stuff) and post-partum in-house visits from lactation consultants and whatever mama needs to sort this out. That first month is so critical and so freaking hard! How can we make this happen?
Great, now I'm all fired up and it's almost midnight. I want to bring this mama a casserole. But I don't actually know her, or what state she lives in, or whether she likes casserole.
Those so inclined please pray for our new mama and her little one to find some ease and rest soon!
Much love,
Suzi
Today was my 20 year high school reunion (yep. 37. Lots of grey. Still not sure what it means to feel like a "grown up.") What a handsome and interesting group of folks I went to school with! Seriously I think a couple of them will look that smooth and curvy when we are 70. So the funny part is, I walk up to the group at the family picnic this afternoon, and am greeted with, "Ms. Boobjuice Herself!" Tee hee! It's true, I can't deny it. Motherhood changes people (I'm sure fatherhood does too but I can't speak from personal experience there) and the Big Loud Lactivist stick whalloped me upside the head the minute that little dude came out. As did the You Will Now Cry at Every Damn Thing that Ever Happens Ever stick. Everyone was very congratulatory about my big ol' baby belly (aw, thanks guys!) and not a one of them said "Wow you have a lot of grey for 37." Not that I thought they would really, but that's what I felt most insecure about the week leading up to the reunion. Ah well, my stylist says she'll come to the birth center... I'm kidding, I'll give the kid a few weeks to get used to how I smell before I put weird stuff on my head.
So another mama on my online mamas group is having a rough start - she has too much post-partum bleeding and was given a drug in the ER (yikes!) that is a question mark for nursing and can reduce prolactin (the "make milk now" hormone) and such. Sounds like she got a lot of the standard knee-jerk, "my insurance wants me to tell you not to breastfeed on this drug and despite being a doctor I am skeeved out by your boobs" sort of advice. (Okay not fair they are of course just trying to keep her from bleeding to death but seriously, AMA, tell your med schools to teach doctors about breastfeeding in a useful way, please.) So I thinks she's getting the help she needs to work through this in the way that is best for her and her little one. But this is so common and so frustrating! Right at the start, when poor mama is exhausted and probably freaked out and trying to learn how to nurse, and kiddo is, hello, brand new to everything, and it's so hard to get the support we need to take care of ourselves and our babies the way we want to. It's hard to research breastfeeding online when you are sleep deprived and learning how to be a mama (Ack! This creature is so tiny and delicate and they sent us home ALONE!? With no supervision???) I want our country to be a place where mama and baby get breastfeeding friendly help and support from the start without having to hunt it down in a panic in the middle of the night. Notice this would be very different from a guilt trip in a breastfeeding class before giving birth. This is like doctors who are trained well to understand breastfeeding (seriously anyone who might be treating a woman age 15-55 should know this stuff) and post-partum in-house visits from lactation consultants and whatever mama needs to sort this out. That first month is so critical and so freaking hard! How can we make this happen?
Great, now I'm all fired up and it's almost midnight. I want to bring this mama a casserole. But I don't actually know her, or what state she lives in, or whether she likes casserole.
Those so inclined please pray for our new mama and her little one to find some ease and rest soon!
Much love,
Suzi
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Things I Love About Being Pregnant
Hello Dear Readers!
There are a lot of hilarious blogs, books, movies, etc. out there about what a pain in the butt (literally - hemorrhoids, anyone?) it can be to be pregnant. Fair 'nuff. But I'm kind of sad that this is probably my last ride on this merry-go-round, and I want to enjoy it as much as I can. So here, in no particular order, is a list of things I love about being pregnant.
1. Happy attention. Yes, I seem to like attention. Are we surprised? But this is not just attention - attention can be bad. (Stop staring, I know my kid is screaming on your airplane and I'm doing the best I can. Go away.) This is happy attention. Pregnant bellies make people smile, ask how you are feeling, when is the baby due. Pregnant bellies inspire hope and optimism, and perhaps a bit of wonder about how that fairly small woman is carrying around all that baby belly and that bag of groceries and that toddler...
2. BOOBS! Yes I admit it. I like the bigger boobs. I have never been busty, even at the times in my life when I needed to take off a few pounds, it goes pear shaped (and then when I do take off those few pounds it seems to all come out of my chest - not fair!!!) So the busty look of being pregnant and the early months of nursing are a lot of fun for me. And maybe for someone else too but we'll leave him out of it for now.
3. Food. I like to eat. It's fun to eat more. This is great about nursing, too, of course, but I find it very freeing to be in this time where I *should* eat more and put on weight. All in moderation of course, and I don't get to just chow down on cookies (mmm, cookies...). But I had a steak sandwich and fries for lunch yesterday, and it was DELICIOUS. And I'm not even a little sorry - I need the iron and protein, and Protoperson seems to love potatoes. Even the resultant food coma was kind of fun.
4. Spoiling. Of course having folks carry things for me and let me off the hook for stuff would be more fun if I wasn't so freaking tired. (Read: if it wasn't necessary.) But if I get to be Princess for a Trimester, that's just fine.
5. There's a person growing in my tummy. Dude have you checked this out? It's incredible! There is a whole, if tiny and not yet independently viable, human being, in my BELLY! She moves and kicks and I'm so curious who she is going to turn out to be! It's so amazing. And she's so small! Okay she does not FEEL small when I'm trying to carry Robert and the groceries. But think about it - if you set out to, say, carve out of driftwood a creature with fingernails that small, I reckon you would have a hard time doing so. DNA is wild stuff.
6. Improved body image. Okay this one is a bit of a dome scratcher for a lot of folks, and on the first try it didn't kick in during pregnancy. In fact, I felt like I was wearing a clown suit. But sometime after Robert was born, I went from a sort of typical American female level of poor body image to "holy crap! I made that person in my belly! and I fed him with my breasts! How the heck did I do that? That's amazing!!!" and all those pesky details about cellulite and breast size just sort of faded into the background. It probably didn't hurt that I lost more weight after the pregnancy than I gained during it. Although I will fess up that I was pretty disappointed when my chest deflated after Robert's solid food intake ramped up. So this time around I'm enjoying my nice round belly, and the fact that certain other areas are getting bigger too are honestly not bothering me as much.
7. Robert. It is so cute to watch him look at the ultrasounds of Proto and say "That's a head. That's a belly." He kisses my belly too, and says, "Robert kiss the baby." And lately when he asks me to pick him up he reaches up with both hands on my belly and says his usual "Want upamomma." So from my point of view I see belly, cute little hands, cute little upturned face. Yay.
8. Looking forward to nursing again. Maybe this time I'll get lucky and won't get some nasty yeast infection to spoil the fun. And I feel like all I learned on the last go-round has to make it easier this time. But I've lined up a great lactation consultant service (Yay Zenana Spa!) just in case and some $$$ in the "Baby Wish List" budget to spend on it.
9. Contraception. What contraception? Exactly! Although to be fair this doesn't necessarily totally make up for the complicated mechanics of the big round tummy.
10. Matt. I have the sweetest husband. He takes such nice care of me while I am preggers, and it's fun. He doesn't complain when I am behind on my share of housework or when I want to go to bed at 8 pm on weeknights (not that I do a very good job at actually going to bed at 8...) And he's always telling me how cute he thinks I look pregnant, and never once has he rolled his eyes (where I could see him anyway) about the flatulence or how much unsolicited information he's getting about various bodily functions that are getting confused by all the hormones coursing through my veins.
11. My midwives. That's right, plural. These women are taking such wonderful care of me, and they are so kind and gentle and reassuring and patient. I'm sure I'm not the most high-maintenance patient they've ever had, but I bet I'm more than one standard deviation above the mean (So that's more high-maintenance than 67% of the population, or so, assuming a normally distributed population, which is an heroic assumption, and way more math than anyone probably wanted to see on this blog.) And they just sit patiently answering my questions and asking if I had anything else I wanted to talk about. Yay.
Feel free to waive these at me in a few months when I have to mosey from place to place and can't take a deep breath.
Much love,
Suzi
There are a lot of hilarious blogs, books, movies, etc. out there about what a pain in the butt (literally - hemorrhoids, anyone?) it can be to be pregnant. Fair 'nuff. But I'm kind of sad that this is probably my last ride on this merry-go-round, and I want to enjoy it as much as I can. So here, in no particular order, is a list of things I love about being pregnant.
1. Happy attention. Yes, I seem to like attention. Are we surprised? But this is not just attention - attention can be bad. (Stop staring, I know my kid is screaming on your airplane and I'm doing the best I can. Go away.) This is happy attention. Pregnant bellies make people smile, ask how you are feeling, when is the baby due. Pregnant bellies inspire hope and optimism, and perhaps a bit of wonder about how that fairly small woman is carrying around all that baby belly and that bag of groceries and that toddler...
2. BOOBS! Yes I admit it. I like the bigger boobs. I have never been busty, even at the times in my life when I needed to take off a few pounds, it goes pear shaped (and then when I do take off those few pounds it seems to all come out of my chest - not fair!!!) So the busty look of being pregnant and the early months of nursing are a lot of fun for me. And maybe for someone else too but we'll leave him out of it for now.
3. Food. I like to eat. It's fun to eat more. This is great about nursing, too, of course, but I find it very freeing to be in this time where I *should* eat more and put on weight. All in moderation of course, and I don't get to just chow down on cookies (mmm, cookies...). But I had a steak sandwich and fries for lunch yesterday, and it was DELICIOUS. And I'm not even a little sorry - I need the iron and protein, and Protoperson seems to love potatoes. Even the resultant food coma was kind of fun.
4. Spoiling. Of course having folks carry things for me and let me off the hook for stuff would be more fun if I wasn't so freaking tired. (Read: if it wasn't necessary.) But if I get to be Princess for a Trimester, that's just fine.
5. There's a person growing in my tummy. Dude have you checked this out? It's incredible! There is a whole, if tiny and not yet independently viable, human being, in my BELLY! She moves and kicks and I'm so curious who she is going to turn out to be! It's so amazing. And she's so small! Okay she does not FEEL small when I'm trying to carry Robert and the groceries. But think about it - if you set out to, say, carve out of driftwood a creature with fingernails that small, I reckon you would have a hard time doing so. DNA is wild stuff.
6. Improved body image. Okay this one is a bit of a dome scratcher for a lot of folks, and on the first try it didn't kick in during pregnancy. In fact, I felt like I was wearing a clown suit. But sometime after Robert was born, I went from a sort of typical American female level of poor body image to "holy crap! I made that person in my belly! and I fed him with my breasts! How the heck did I do that? That's amazing!!!" and all those pesky details about cellulite and breast size just sort of faded into the background. It probably didn't hurt that I lost more weight after the pregnancy than I gained during it. Although I will fess up that I was pretty disappointed when my chest deflated after Robert's solid food intake ramped up. So this time around I'm enjoying my nice round belly, and the fact that certain other areas are getting bigger too are honestly not bothering me as much.
7. Robert. It is so cute to watch him look at the ultrasounds of Proto and say "That's a head. That's a belly." He kisses my belly too, and says, "Robert kiss the baby." And lately when he asks me to pick him up he reaches up with both hands on my belly and says his usual "Want upamomma." So from my point of view I see belly, cute little hands, cute little upturned face. Yay.
8. Looking forward to nursing again. Maybe this time I'll get lucky and won't get some nasty yeast infection to spoil the fun. And I feel like all I learned on the last go-round has to make it easier this time. But I've lined up a great lactation consultant service (Yay Zenana Spa!) just in case and some $$$ in the "Baby Wish List" budget to spend on it.
9. Contraception. What contraception? Exactly! Although to be fair this doesn't necessarily totally make up for the complicated mechanics of the big round tummy.
10. Matt. I have the sweetest husband. He takes such nice care of me while I am preggers, and it's fun. He doesn't complain when I am behind on my share of housework or when I want to go to bed at 8 pm on weeknights (not that I do a very good job at actually going to bed at 8...) And he's always telling me how cute he thinks I look pregnant, and never once has he rolled his eyes (where I could see him anyway) about the flatulence or how much unsolicited information he's getting about various bodily functions that are getting confused by all the hormones coursing through my veins.
11. My midwives. That's right, plural. These women are taking such wonderful care of me, and they are so kind and gentle and reassuring and patient. I'm sure I'm not the most high-maintenance patient they've ever had, but I bet I'm more than one standard deviation above the mean (So that's more high-maintenance than 67% of the population, or so, assuming a normally distributed population, which is an heroic assumption, and way more math than anyone probably wanted to see on this blog.) And they just sit patiently answering my questions and asking if I had anything else I wanted to talk about. Yay.
Feel free to waive these at me in a few months when I have to mosey from place to place and can't take a deep breath.
Much love,
Suzi
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