Kaylee and Alyssa's Birth Story

This is a twin birth story from my online mama friend, Lori. I love when a cesarean birth story ends with a perfectly happy mom who got everything she needed AND healthy babies. Goes to show that there is joy in every birth, no matter the mode of delivery!

***

We were told at our very first ultrasound that we were having twins. We had done IUI (a fertility procedure) and Clomid (a fertility drug) so we always knew there was a chance - but the surprise was that they were identical, which neither of those things can cause! From the next appointment on (and there were many many appointments and many ultrasounds) we were thoroughly explained the many risks of carrying not only twins, but monozygotic/diamniotic twins. I had been told that the hospital and doctors were willing to allow a vaginal birth in the case that: Baby A (the one presenting) was head down and that a doctor comfortable with a breech delivery (in case B was breech or flipped to breech during A’s delivery) was on staff and willing to do the delivery. I did every amount of planning and “type A” preparation that I could. I had a birth plan written out and my hospital bags packed and in the car by 28-ish weeks. They had both been head down for weeks, and at around 30 weeks, it seemed like something had “slipped”, causing me to be in enough pain to go into triage to be monitored - babies were okay, but were both now breech.

 

Contractions began on their own at 35+1. I kept a pretty good record of them via a phone app (highly recommended! the app will do the math for you, especially once they really start up, math is hard to do.) and I was only having them every 7-10 minutes, if that. Lots of yoga ball bouncing and trying to stay comfortable for the night and calling triage nurses to confirm when they wanted me to come in. We all agreed on “when they get closer together” because the hospital is about an hour from us (the closer to us does not have a NICU and weren’t able to deliver identical twins without the risk of being flight transferred to Seattle while I was stuck behind). The next afternoon they jumped pretty suddenly to being about 5-7 minutes apart, so we hopped in the car and went to the hospital.

 

Upon arrival, they hooked me up to the monitors and I was checked for dialation, at that point I was at 3cm. They weren’t all too sure about whether or not I would deliver or be sent home, but because of both babies still being breech, we filled out the c-section consent form so it didn’t need to be done in a rush of activity later. They let 2 hours go by and checked me again (while having constant back labor, all contractions showing on the monitor, and me stuck on a break away bed with the break right where the contractions were in my back, mind you!) - I was now a 6-7cm and Kaylee kicked the doctor!

 

This is where things became a blur; We were delivering that day and quick. They confirmed when the last time was that I had eaten, discussed giving me my epidural in the triage room so it had enough time to take effect before being rushed to the OR for a c-section (they didn’t end up doing this). Because I had dilated relatively quickly (and babies clearly wanted out!) they were concerned with both being breech that they would continue to try to come on their own before they could get in for the c-section. We were taken to a delivery room, epidural given, and moved to the OR pretty quickly.

 

From there, it really became a blur in the quickness of activity, the drugs, the hormones, and the emotions. We had arrived at triage around 4pm and Kaylee and Alyssa were born via c-section at 8:38 and 8:39pm, both with Apgar scores of 9! Kaylee (5lb 3oz) immediately came to the room with me, Alyssa (4lb 2oz) was admitted to the NICU per policy due to being low weight. She was able to room-in with me and her sister after overnight monitoring.

 

I went into my birth with a full researched plan of what I wanted in a best case scenario, but also knowing at that point I needed to “let go” and that the girls may have their own plans. I controlled what I could, I stood up for what I needed to, and the girls came out healthy and happy.

 

 

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Adventures in Placenta Encapsulation

Placentas are really cool. Like " Holy cow, I grew a new organ that grew a baby and then my body totally just got rid of it and now it's been in my freezer for four years because that is way too fascinating to just throw away" kind of cool. Seriously, I could just look at placentas all day long. They are bloody, messy, gross, slippery, slide-y and amazingly, astonishingly unequivically beautiful. A true testament to the power and wisdom of the human body.

And people just throw them away every day! I know a lot women think placentophagy (mammals consuming the placenta postpartum) is gross or off-putting, but really, it is no grosser than popping a vitamin. Unless you eat it raw and steaming straight from your vagina. That's pretty gross, in my opinion. Actually, just writing that grosses me out. Anyway...

A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to learn how to encapsulate and tincture placentas. It's a pretty cool process, and since I am not sure how a paying client would feel about me documenting their placenta encapsulation, I decided to thaw my own two frosty life-popsicles and make some medicine. Since I had my kids, I have found that I have raging, horrifying, lock-myself-in-an-underground-bunker-for-a-week PMS. I'm hoping that if I take these capsules in during that hell week might make life easier...for my family. I also want that tincture, since it will likely last me through menopause, and if it is anything like my PMS, we are all gonna want a little help.

So here it is: Lucy and Malcolm's placentas, medicine-ized.

Lucy's placenta, with extra-long cord:

Malcolm's placenta was smaller, with a much shorter cord:

The first thing I did was thaw the placentas in the fridge for about 3 days. My intention was to get to them as soon as they were unfrozen enough to work with, but I needed to go to the liquor store to get some vodka for the tincture. This week, I discovered at the Montgomery County liquor stores don't open until noon, and stopping at the liquor store after picking up your kid from preschool is awkward. Perhaps less awkward than being the lady waiting at the door for the store to open and promptly buying the largest bottle of 100 proof vodka available, 4-year-old in tow. Maybe that's totally justifiable...

So, thawed placenta. I decided that since I had two placentas, I would use the two most common methods (maybe the only two?) for preparation: raw and Traditional Chinese Medicine-inspired. Lucy's was prepared raw, Malcolm's with TCM. First, I rinsed them and removed as much blood as possible. Lucy's had a lot of blood in it, Malcolm's looked as though it had been drained already, although there were several large clots on the maternal side. I set Mal's aside and worked with Lucy's. After rinsing, I removed the cord and patted it dry as thoroughly as I could with a paper towel.

One of the first memories I have of Lucy extra-utero is the midwife unwrapping the cord from around her neck two times. In my memory, she is swinging it around my slimy newborn like a lasso, though I highly doubt the cord was flying as widely as I am remembering.

But seriously, it was long enough to spell out LOVE:

 

One of my first memories of Malcolm was not being able to get him up very far on my chest, because his cord seemed short. It was pretty short, but I could still make a little heart with it. I placed the cords on the dehydrator.

I cut the placenta into smallish chunks. After slicing and dicing. I placed it on the dehydrator tray. Yum!

After the chop chop, I dropped a good-sized chunk of placenta into roughly 18 oz of vodka. This will sit in a cool dark place for about six weeks, after which I will strain it through cheesecloth and use it to tame the wild hormonal beast. I made a tincture from a piece of both placentas, since it can also be used for the child's hose placenta it was. I have heard it is like a "reset" button for a kid having a crappy day. I am hoping it is sort of like the "Easy" button from the Staples commercials, though I am sure to be disappointed in that regard, as I don't expect an army of nannies to arrive when I use it on the kids, nor do I expect they will bring me a million dollars. I tinctured Lucy's raw and Malcolm's after the steaming process (this one is Malcolm's):

Lucy decided she wanted to help, so of course, she had to wear gloves like Mama. It's pretty cool, though. I mean how many people can say they've seen and held their own placenta??!

She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be holding it.

But while we are looking at pictures of my kid, is she not the cutest girl EVER?

Moving on. I got to work on Malcolm's next. Traditional Chinese Medicine says that we steam or simmer the placenta with warming herbs (lemon or lemongrass, ginger and a hot pepper). I sliced up a lemon, a good-sized chunk of ginger and a hot pepper, placing them in pot and filling with enough water to cover. My teacher said to lay the placenta on top of the herbs and gently simmer for an hour. I am pretty bad at remembering things on the stove for more than 20 minutes or so. Just ask my husband who more than once has come home to a house filled with burning something-or-other and me blithely taking a shower or napping or something else that didn't involve remembering stuff on the stove. My first attempt at TCM ended with a huge, stinky placenta mess all over the stove because the whole shebang boiled over. So I decided to steam instead of simmer, since steaming was a 12-15 minutes on one side, then flip over and steam for another 12-15 minutes kind of process. Better for my attention span.

So, I wrapped the placenta in the membranes, such as they were. I remember after the birth my midwife showed me that the two layers of amniotic sac had separated, and so it was a somewhat slippery mess, especially after 2+ years in the freezer.

Looks a little like a heart in an autopsy tray.

 

I brought the water to a boil and then turned it WAY way down, to minimize boil-over risk. I steamed it for 12 minutes, flipped it over they steamed for another 12 minutes.

The first placenta I prepared according to TCM started out the size of a salad plate and was about the size of my fist after I boiled it over. It should cook down a little bit, but not THAT much. After it cooled a bit, I removed the membranes and I cut it into little chunks. It was much easier to cut than the raw one (which, in restrospect, would have been better served by a good pair of kitchen shears than a knife).

I placed it on the dehydrator tray and set it for ~150 degrees. Basically, anything above 140 is fine. Anything below that temperature will not inhibit the growth of bacteria, and so...y'know...yuck.

Now, the part about TCM preparation that you don't hear about a lot is that the mom is supposed to drink the broth created by the steaming process. So...I strained the herbs and pepper out, poured a big steaming cup of placenta tea, put some honey in it and gave it a try!

And the verdict is...HOLY SHIT THAT'S SPICY!

Oh yeah...hot pepper...Damn. It was not expecting that at all. It really wasn't bad, per se...just...that was a lot of ginger and hot pepper and I was drinking it. I did manage to drink about a cup of it before it was just too spicy to continue. The taste definitely grew on me, but I froze the rest in an ice cube tray and plan to use it a cube or two at a time, diluted and (heavily) honeyed, during my cycle.

Back to the dehydrator! It ran for about 20 hours. Here is the end result:

A cord dehydrated fresh will be more of a tan translucent color after dehydrating. You can see the blood vessels better in a more translucent cord, but this one is really beautiful if you hold it up to the light.

After dehydrating, I put the dried placenta into a blender. It made a great deal of noise. And powder flies out like crazy. I would recommend putting a piece of parchment paper or Saran Wrap under the lid of the blender to keep the dust to a minimum, since I am pretty sure no one wants to breathe powdered placenta.

It turned out like this:

I loaded the capsule filler:

Scooped a heaping tablespoon of powder in:

Filled and tamped down the capsules:

Put the tops on:

And ejected the capsules into the waiting bin:

Malcolm's placenta yielded 73 capsules, which is a pretty skimpy number. Lucy's made 108, also a pretty small-ish number, though more in the range of average. I'm wondering if TCM preparation reduces the yield of capsules, since they were both pretty similar in size to begin with. The other TCM prepared placenta I did only yielded 86 capsules...though that may have had something to do with the fact that I boiled it to within an inch of its life. Or perhaps past an inch of its life. It was bad. At least I wasn't charging her for it.

See? Nothing gross about this!

I wish I had separated the raw from the TCM capsules, but I just went on autopilot and they all ended up in the same bin. I popped two of these suckers today, just to see what (if any) effect there would be. I felt a definite mood boost, though no difference in energy. The placenta broth/tea gave me a burst of energy.

So now I have two cord keepsakes...and what does one do with dried umbilical cords? Lucy really wants to keep hers, and I am inclined to let her. It is her cord, after all. Malcolm could care less, I'm sure. Maybe a shadow box? They are actually really pretty. Especially, I imagine, if you don't really know what they are.

 

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Mama, I'm Peeing in the Woods!

We walk in parks a lot, Malcolm, Lucy and I. As with any outing involving children who are still skating the line between rational and subrational, it occasionally means an emergency bathroom break in the bushes (even though she "didn't EVER have to go, Mama!" or an impromptu diaper change on a log. Sometimes it goes smoothly. Sometimes it does not.

We were walking the path by the Trader Joe's at the Burnt Mills shopping center. This path is part of the other path we often take (and site of the infamous SYSC incident of yore). It is a very, very short jaunt down a rocky hill to a waterfall. Perfect for two grumpy kids who need some outside time throwing rocks at something other than each other. I underestimated both their willingness to walk down a hill and Lucy's ability to gauge the contents of her bladder.

At the top of this hill, there is a short, raised wooden boardwalk that serves no discernible purpose. Malcolm discovered it. It is to run back and forth across while stomping loudly and yelling "HULK RUN!" with an adorable toddler accent. Good stuff for 2 year old boys, no doubt, but Lucy was not interested. After 10 minutes (which is apparently an unreasonably short amount of time for unbridled board-stomping), I gathered Boy Hulk and carried him, screaming and frothing at the mouth, down the short but rocky hill. I was sure he'd come around to my point of view when he saw there were ROCKS and he was allowed to THROW THEM.

At the bottom of the hill, there is a nice little sandy beach area, a deep-ish pool and a lovely trickling waterfall. Malcolm stomped into the water and promptly regretted it. He quickly settled into happily tossing rock after rock into the water. Lucy sat demurely by the edge and declared she was a mermaid.

Lucy: I'm a mermaid, Mama. My name is...All..ee..an...driana...lana. Malcolm is my brother. We are going to get married.

Me: ...oh...how Game of Thrones-y of you.

Lucy: umm...okay. What was that name I said again? OH NO, MAMA! I have to PEE!

Okay, no biggie. We've done this before. She's pooped in the woods, had diapers changed in the woods, peed in the woods, nursed in the woods, eaten crickets in the woods. We've done it all. No big deal. But...she's wearing overalls. Okay, not the end of the world. But it is October and pretty chilly and Lucy tends to pee on her underwear when she's voiding like a gatherer, so this may mean full-on butt to ankles nudity. And Lucy is one of those kids who loves being naked, so just give her a reason and she'll strip down to her birthday suit in a nanosecond. We have not done this in the woods.

Me: Okay, no big deal, Lucy come away from the water and I'll help you.

I took off her coat, I helped her out of her overalls. She took off her undies ("In case so I don't pee on them, Mama. It's cold out and I don't want wet undies."). At this point a mom and her tweenage daughter walked by. The daughter averted her eyes embarrassed, the mom gave me an "I've been there look" and they walked on without comment.

Lucy squatted down, and at the last second she decided she really needed to take this opportunity to witness the pee leaving her body. She hung her head down to watch, and all her lovely hair fell down like a curtain, practically touching the ground. It was directly in the line of fire when a stream of urine came powering out of her like a geyser. She shouted in alarm as it soaked her hair. I shouted in alarm as I felt the surprisingly forceful stream of fluid soak my foot and then jump over to my leg as Lucy struggled to maintain her balance after the initial attack. This pee was EPIC. It went on for a good 20 seconds at fire-hose-velocity. It soaked my shoe and my entire leg from my knee to my ankle. Lucy's hair was dripping with pee.

Lucy (as the pee is streaming forth at relativistic speeds): WOW! My vagina is really pushing out a lot of pee!

Me: Your vagina doesn't actually have anything to do with your pee, sweetie. You pee comes out of your bladder through your urethra.

Lucy: My vagina is TELLING my pee to go out so fast.

Me: Well, that's one smart vagina, then.

Lucy: Nah. It's pretty lazy.

Me: **snarf**

Lucy: It just lays around all day.

Oh. My. God. I love this kid.

 

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A Walk in The Park

"A walk in the park" implies something is easy, right? Heh.
So I took my kids on a walk in the park. We live near Northwest Branch, which is acres and acres of undeveloped parkland on the northwest branch (duh) of the Anacostia River. There are trails leading down to the creek, a five minute walk from our house. We take this trail at least once a week. It's a steep trail towards the end, but they literally walk it ALL THE TIME. So I had no reason to believe this day would be different.

We start off running happily to the woods. We walk down the trail with gleeful abandon, enjoying the beautiful fall weather. We throw rocks.

We eat snacks.

Some of us eat dirt, but we are all happy, so whatever.

Lucy dunks her feet in the water. I say "Oh, Lucy the water is cold - take your feet out!" She says, with an air of genuine confusion "Ummm...these are my shoes..." Okay yes. But there ARE feet in them, yes? But I don't push it. If she wants cold wet feet walking home, it's a great learning experience. I'm all about natural consequences.

Then we all want water. No problem! Mama is prepared! I brought my water bottle, Malcolm's water bottle and a yellow sippy cup because I couldn't find Lucy's water bottle.

That stupid stupid yellow sippy cup.

Malcolm doesn't want his water bottle. He wants the stupid yellow sippy cup. Lucy, being four and exceptionally good at it, will not share. Fine. It is her stupid yellow sippy cup today, even though she could easily have used the water bottle instead of the stupid yellow sippy cup. But a girl has to stand on principle when it comes to these things or next thing you know your little brother wants to use your toys and we can't have THAT happen, now can we? Generally she doesn't use them at all, and this is usually Malcolm's stupid yellow sippy cup...so you see the problem.

Then, Lucy suddenly declares she's done with the stupid yellow sippy cup.  So I offer it to Malcolm.  She snatches it away.

Lucy: No!  He can't have it!

Me: Why?  I can refill it with the water from my bottle.

Lucy: I don't want your water, Mama.  I want MINE.  AND I WANT IT NOT IN MALCOLM.

Sooo...I distract! Rocks! Throw rocks! Yay! Throwing things is fun! This works for a bit, but Lucy is too smart for phyllising* anymore and Malcolm is amazingly singleminded for a two year old. He decides he's fed up, and takes off.

I barely have time to gather our snack and strong-arm Lucy into following me before he's out of sight. Next to a 20 foot drop off into rocky, running water. They start running down the path. Crisis averted...?

Fat chance.  Mal wants up the hill, Lucy wants the trail. And a piggyback. And then Mal suddenly wants water again. From the stupid yellow sippy cup. And now Malcolm won't walk anymore because HE WANTS SOME DAMN WATER FROM A DAMN STUPID YELLOW SIPPY CUP, ALREADY. 

Now I try reasoning with Lucy.

Me: Lucy, I can't leave Malcolm behind, and he won't walk because he's upset about the damn stupid yellow sippy cup**. I have to carry him. I can't carry both of you.

Lucy: YOU HAVE TO! I want a piggyback! I'm too tired to walk anymore! Put Malcolm down NOW!

Me: I have to carry Malcolm. If you want me to give you a piggyback, you have to share the stupid yellow sippy cup with Mal.

Lucy: NNNNOOOOOOoooooooooooOooOoOoOoOoOooooooo! Just carry me! You have to do it!

Circular discussion ensues. Malcolm continues wailing my my ear.

I put Malcolm down because now he's struggling to get out of my arms and tackle Lucy for the SYSC***. I power on up the hill, hoping they'll shut up for 10 seconds and follow me, which they do, but not happily. This is my view during that walk up the hill.

I periodically stop and try to reason with Lucy. She periodically cries about how scared she is to climb the hill she climbed 48 hours earlier without a second thought. Malcolm periodically throws himself down in despair of ever getting to drink water again (even though there are about 40oz of water between my bottle and his, happily waiting for his muddy little mouth to swill them down). Lucy is holding my legs and crying, stomping ahead wailing, yelling at me for a piggyback ride because she's too tired. Finally, I lose it. I grab her arm and pull her back and shout "Just LISTEN TO ME!" in a final fruitless effort to get her to understand that if she just shares the SYSC with Malcolm, he'd be happy and I could give her a piggyback. I realize this wasn't the fairest solution to the issue, (perhaps Malcolm could just drink some water out of another vessel) but Malcolm is two and not real big on rational thought. So being flexible on a REFILLABLE STUPID YELLOW SIPPY CUP THAT YOU DON'T EVEN WANT ANYMORE might be an easy way to get what you want. This doesn't go down well with Lucy. Not only am I yelling (so much for a peaceful walk in the woods), but I caused her to trip and fall over when I grabbed her arm. I'm the best mom ever.

So what's a mom to do? It's lunch time. Everyone clearly needs a nap. We are about a mile from home, with at least 1/4 of it uphill, through the woods. No one but me appears able or willing to propel themselves forward under their own power. So I pick up Malcolm and run him up the hill 20 or 30 yards. I put him down, run back and get Lucy and do the same thing. Malcolm. Lucy. Malcolm. Lucy. 30 lbs. 45 lbs. 30 lbs. 45 lbs. Uphill. Downhill.

That stupid stupid stupid yellow sippy cup.****

When Malcolm sees the jogger I had left at the top of the hill, he runs excitedly up to it. I pick Lucy up one last leaden time and dump her in the stroller. Malcolm, of course, can't be bothered with riding and wants to run home. Or halfway home. When he stops, sits down, and takes his shoes and socks off motivated by some weird toddler inner need to periodically remove footwear at inappropriate times. Let me remind you that it is barely 60 degrees out, and the sidewalk is covered with crushed acorns from the neighborhood's overzealous, littering bastard squirrel population.


Now my jogger is actually a converted bike trailer. So there is a longish metal support that sticks out from the stroller and curves forward to hold the front wheels (or attach to the bike). Malcolm wants to ride on the support, not in the stroller. This is a bad idea on many levels, especially barefoot. But he won't be dissuaded. I try a few things but quickly discover that I literally cannot go anywhere. I can't push the stroller and carry Malcolm in my arms because that's like carrying a crocodile as it is trying to roll you. I can't drag the stroller behind me and tilt the front wheel off the ground (to discourage Mal from copping a squat over the support rail) because he grabs the rail and throws himself down on it. I can't put him in the stroller because Lucy won't move over and make room for him, and besides the SYSC that started this whole sorry state of affairs is still firmly clamped in her unyielding little fist.

So I stopped, parked the stroller on the grass and laid down on the sidewalk.

Me: I give up.

Malcolm: MAMA! (He runs over and dives on top of me and gives me a hug).

Lucy: Why'd you give up, Mama?

Me: I'm just...a terrible mom..

Lucy: No. No, no, no! You're a great mom!

Sigh. Tears.

Being a mom is a walk in the park.

__________________________________________________________________
*Phyllising: the act of distracting or drawing a small child's attention away from or towards a particular activity or train of thought, as masterfully practiced by by my mother, Phyllis. It can also be used on adults, though it must be much more subtle than "Stop doing that, let's throw rocks!"
**I didn't actually say this to Lucy.
***I'm tired of typing it out. But it deserves its full honorific.
****I'm blaming the stupid yellow sippy cup here, but I think perhaps my parenting skills can be called into question.

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Necklaces

Lucy started at Crossway Community Montessori Public Charter School on August 26. There have 18 school days so far. Every single day, she has brought home one (or more) of these beaded necklaces. She made one for me, one for Malcolm, one for Daddy, one for Gramma, one for Granddaddy, one for Nana, one for Papa, one for Monica, one more of each of us, and several for herself. How many days in the school year are there...? I'm not sure I know what to do with 180 beaded necklaces?.

 

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A Day Out with Malcolm

Kevin took Lucy to see Despicable Me 2 today. Malcolm and I had already had an altercation this morning that resulted in me having a fat lip. He was whiny and clingy and I had no desire to spend three hours at home with him. So we tagged along with the bigs kids to downtown Silver Spring. I decided not to try to sit through the movie with him, so here is the adventure that followed.

Contemplating the fountain.

Running away from the fountain.

Riding the elevator up...

Taking the stairs down. Repeat 43 times.

Testing the waters

 

Spitting milk all over the glass.

Spitting milk all over Mama's phone, trying to steal Mama's phone.

Running away from me.

Seriously contemplating grand theft auto.

Not terribly sure of the Metro.

7-11 picnic at Takoma Station.

Bus-watching at Takoma Station.

Practicing civil disobedience. Protesting the unfair "Hold My Hand or Be Carried" laws.

Meeting up with Daddy and Lucy.

NAP TIME FOR ALL!

 

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