Post #16: Expectations for Childbirth and Nursing

As I had been talking with many friends while we were at Jesse’s orthopaedic meetings in Europe early in the summer of 2016, they often asked me questions about Stacy that I had not thought to ask her myself, likely given our limited conversation time and need to focus on other practicalities. So on July 10, I emailed Stacy with the subject line "Brisbane baby.” I wrote, “Just wondering about your OB checks. How often do you see your doctor? How is everything going from her point of view? Does she think you are bigger than expected at this point? Have they been doing more ultrasounds along the way? What type of childbirth do you expect to have? Completely natural? Or aided by some meds? What do they tend to do these days?

Before you were born I went to childbirth classes to know what to expect. Are you doing anything like that?

I wonder if we could Skype? I am writing to you now from my hotel room in Amsterdam about 7:30 am, and I think you are almost 3:30 pm in Brisbane. Dad and I leave for the airport at 11:30 am. My main project this morning is to pack up my bulging luggage.

Xoxo mom”

Fortunately Stacy was available and we had a long Skype conversation that day, getting the answers to many of my emailed questions. Stacy was seeing her obstetrician about once every two weeks but that would change to weekly soon, about a month before her due date. All had been proceeding well and she anticipated having another ultrasound this week. She had not gone to any childbirth classes but had read about what to expect. She will be open to natural childbirth but will opt for anesthetic options in the face of lengthy or difficult labor. Stacy mentioned that prophylactic Caesarean section is done more commonly in Australia, but I hoped that was not going to be the case.

Within the context of this conversation, I relayed some of my prenatal and childbirth experiences. With my first pregnancy culminating in Stacy's birth, I had gone to a multi-session childbirth course recommended by my obstetrician. The class was mostly attended by couples, but Jesse rarely went as he was a surgical resident, on call every other night. I was not concerned about that as Jesse had already delivered many babies, during a medical school obstetrical rotation at Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami and when we lived on the Gila River Indian Reservation in Arizona where he was a general practitioner for two years. I explained Jesse's anticipated absences to the understanding nurse who was teaching the classes. So she was my partner when we practiced couple’s childbirth activities like expectant mother breathing exercises to be “coached” by expectant dad, etc. When Jesse was able to attend one of the last classes, he was recognized by another father-to-be, having gone to the same college.

"We’re glad to see you," he told Jesse, "especially because we were curious about your wife. We wondered whether she might be a single mom." In 1975 that circumstance was not usually publicly announced and was still generally frowned upon. How times have changed. These days choosing to be a single mother has become a common and accepted occurrence, especially for women whose biological clocks are ticking in the absence of a potential father.

Regardless of being educated about the typical labor and delivery process, including options for natural or anesthetic birth, the first experience with childbirth is never quite what one has expected or matching the textbook-described and supposedly typical steady progression of mild to intensifying labor pains over about 12 hours. Early in the morning of a mid-October day in 1975, a couple days before my due date, I awoke with my back aching. That was not particularly unusual as I had been often waking with an achy back toward the end of my pregnancy. But when I realized this backache was intensifying every 20 minutes or so, I recognized that I must be in labor. We called my OB and Jesse drove swiftly to the Boston Women's Hospital as my labor progressed. By the time I was checked into a labor room, my pains were frightfully strong and coming only several minutes apart. Was it going to feel like this for 12 hours?!? Give me the epidural, I pleaded. Meanwhile, when a nurse initially checked my cervical opening, which is an indication of how childbirth is progressing, she exclaimed, "Honey, you are fully dilated!"

"Really?" I reacted, that was supposed to take longer too. "When can I have the epidural?" I begged.

Too late for that, I was told, too far along in labor. "Seriously?!" I argued. So I kept breathing through the labor pains as we had been instructed in class. Admittedly, I was curious as to whether I would feel any different without the structured breathing but I was too "chicken" to go through even one intense labor pain without the breathing plan. Finally, my OB was reached and authorized a spinal block, soon after which I was whisked into the delivery room. Shortly thereafter a baby girl was gently tugged out of my birth canal by low forceps. It was about four hours from the time I awoke with a back ache until baby Stacy emerged, to our delight. So much for expectations.

Newborn baby Stacy, October, 1975

Successive births are known to come faster than prior ones. So given my first birthing experience, I planned on delivering number two completely naturally. I figured I could manage intensifying labor pains for a short burst of time. So I studied up on my breathing exercises and gave birth naturally, whatever that means since childbirth was not one of my natural habits. Baby boy Benjamin arrived just as quickly. He did not have any red forceps marks on his head like baby Stacy, but Benjy's fleshy nose was initially shmushed and misshapen, having been forced entirely through the birth canal by my uterine contractions. I discovered several pros and cons of anesthetized versus natural childbirth but I will spare you the intimate and somewhat gory details.

Of note, my sister Carol had her two babies after I had already had my two births. Since I had gone through two relatively short laboring episodes, Carol expected that would likely be her fate as well. Unfortunately, her first childbirth experience was very long and painful, and she was especially irritated that her labor did not proceed quickly like mine. So I was certainly aware that one family member’s childbirth experience did not necessarily set precedence for another’s.

Meanwhile during the Skype call between Amsterdam and Brisbane, I learned that Stacy was planning to breastfeed but had heard problem cases of babies not latching on. I assured her that nursing was fairly natural and it would probably work, but having a back-up plan was a good idea anyway in case of difficulties. I recalled and described some of my nursing experiences. Being fairly young, 24 years, with my first pregnancy, and having just moved to the Boston area, I did not know anyone who had nursed a baby. My mother and Jesse's mother had bottle-fed their children because that was the modern way of their time in the 1940's and 50's. But it seemed to me that breasts had essentially evolved for nursing and mother's milk was ideal for babies, so without hesitation I decided to breastfeed. I obtained information about nursing from my prenatal class with referral to the local La Leche League.

Due to breastfeeding, I made an unanticipated connection with my grandmother. The mother of my father (her first child), Grandmom Stella had twins with her next pregnancy, who were born at the end of August, 1926. Grandmom Stella told me that she nursed both the twins for a full year, right through the summer of 1927 to minimize their risk of getting polio. I would never have known anything about that had I not decided to breastfeed my infant.

Another story always comes to mind about my nursing Stacy. When she was 10 weeks old, I left with her on New Year's Eve (and that’s another story) to fly to visit my parents and family in Florida. During our visit, my parents hosted a dinner at the clubhouse of their residential Fort Lauderdale community. The dinner party included my newly engaged sister, her fiancé David and his parents who were meeting my parents for the first time. Of course, I brought baby Stacy to the dinner. Years later I was informed by my mother how scandalous I had been to nurse Stacy at the dinner. I certainly thought I had done so discreetly but even the fact that I nursed my baby in a public place, I learned belatedly, had been an embarrassment to my parents, especially at this dinner where they were first hosting Carol's in-laws to be.

So now to the New Year's Eve story when I was traveling in an airplane with a baby for the very first time. Since Jesse was extraordinarily busy as a surgical resident, on call every other night, I was taking Stacy to be with my family. Jesse was available to bring us to the airport on December 31, 1975, for about a 5:30 pm departure with an approximate 8:30 pm Florida arrival. In that era, there was no pre-concourse security and Jesse could help us all the way to the departure gate. Having done that and seen that we were all set, Jesse kissed us good-bye and returned to the hospital on that wintry cold night. We boarded the plane timely and uneventfully. I got myself all settled on the plane with baby and her gear. The pilot began his announcement. But instead of the expected welcome and provision of information about anticipated flight time, etc., our pilot told us that there had been a bomb threat about our plane. Of late, there had been occasional similar calls, not to be taken lightly as bombs had indeed exploded at LaGuardia airport around that time period. We passengers would all have to deplane into the waiting area. Our luggage would be removed to a remote location on the tarmac while the plane was inspected. Passengers would be transported to that area to identify their luggage before it would be returned to the cleared plane. So much for my uneventful first plane trip with a baby. An airline employee kindly offered to mind baby Stacy while I joined the passenger group heading outdoors to identify our checked luggage. Eventually, we all re-boarded the plane, but it was almost 1976 by the time we arrived at the Fort Lauderdale airport.

So getting back to 2016 in Amsterdam, I did have a very lengthy and enjoyable Skype conversation with Stacy, hearing about her delivery plans and expectations and allowing me to reminisce about mine.

And as soon as we arrived home, we had this email from Stacy:

“Hi Mom & Dad,

Just back from the scan. All normal - though Cooper's abdomen is fairly large (fortunately his head is not).

Have attached some of the pics they gave me - personally, I think the 3D imaging is a bit creepy looking, but gives you some idea.

Love, Stacy”

Ultrasound of Cooper, July 2016