Five Best Pregnancy Purchases

Every pregnancy-themed bulletin board, email list, and website is full of stuff you're supposed to buy, and people asking advice about what they really need. I'm no expert, but I'm also not making ad revenue off any of this stuff, so you can trust me when I say these are the best-spent dollars of my last 36 weeks.

Snoogle Pregnancy Pillow

One of my weekly Pregnancy Emails has a plug for the body pillows every. SINGLE. WEEK. They always fit it right into the text of their weekly update, too, as if to imply that whatever your current pregnancy state is - whether you're experiencing the nausea of the first trimester, the back and hip pain of the second trimester, or the larger girth of the third trimester, this pillow will solve it all.

Well, the thing is, they're not far off. I bought one of these beauties near the end of the first trimester, and since then it has come very close to outranking Chris as the Bedtime Item I Love Most. It has a lot of different positions and uses, but for me the main advantages are that it provides support for between my knees (which helps reduce back and hip pain), and it prevents me from sleeping on my back (because pregnant women are supposed to avoid this position).

I was thrilled to find this pillow at the local Babies R Us (with the breastfeeding pillows) for only $60. Given the months' worth of comfortable sleep it has brought me, it is well worth the cost.

Maternity Underwear

I got a $50 gift card to Thyme Maternity for Christmas, and I used it promptly - taking advantages of the Boxing Day sales. I bought myself one really nice-looking outfit and three pairs of maternity underwear. The pants I bought only fit for about a month, and the shirt - although it still fits - is looking a little tired, but the underwear? They are heaven. They were about $12/apiece, so fairly pricey, but so comfortable and lovely that it feels like wearing clouds on my skin - and they don't look ridiculously unattractive. The 3 pairs I have are the first things to get worn after every laundry day - I wish I'd bought more.

I've learned recently that the biggest factor in my mood and energy level is whether I'm wearing something that fits decently, as the frustration of yanking my pants up every 15 seconds gets old really fast (why didn't anyone tell me that the loss of my waist would also mean the loss of the ability to keep my pants up?). Well-fitting underwear is crucial as well.

3D ultrasound

Not everyone is as hung up on knowing whether their baby is a boy or girl, but for us (okay, for me) it was important. But 3D/4D ultrasounds offer more than that. For us, it was a brilliant way to begin knowing our baby - seeing her face, watching her move around, understanding a little better what it is like for her "in there". It gave us a very visceral recognition of the fact that there was really a little person in there, not just a strange set of symptoms and a lot of weight gain.

We went for the second-cheapest package, at $199, which got us the following:

• A 30-minute non-diagnostic ultrasound session
• Recording of ultrasound session on DVD (believe me, I've watched this a couple dozen times)
• Optional gender assessment
• Listening to baby's heartbeat
• 3D images on CD
• Three printed 3D photos
• Optional web hosting for two months (password protected)

It was awesome to send grandparents and far-flung relatives the photohosting website, which had about 60 pictures of our baby girl (including the one that very definitively proves she's a girl - I like to call that one "Baby's First Porn"). We have the pictures all on CD as well as the DVD of baby Buechler movin and groovin and doing her intra-belly thing. Great for me to watch whenever I want, great keepsake for us to show off and give her later, great memories of the session itself.

Speaking of which, due to various factors we didn't really take full advantage of the facility's amenities, but they would come in handy for many other families. Compared to the medical/diagnostic ultrasound, where Chris was forced to hold on to my ankle in order to have any physical contact with me - and where I was forced to half-sit, half-lie on the table and crane my neck and head around in order to glimpse the ultrasound screen - the 3D ultrasound facilities feature a LARGE, flat-screen TV, happily positioned opposite the bed, so Mom and Dad (and up to 10 other family and friends - it's a GIGANTIC room) can enjoy the view, comfortably and unobstructed. This underlines the core fact of 3D ultrasounds, which is that they are purely for personal enjoyment and sentimental value, not for medical and diagnostic purposes. You are a customer, paying your money to enjoy a show produced with state-of-the-art technology combined with the miraculous workings of the female body. They won't even tell you the size of the baby - the closest they come to diagnostics is showing you the heartbeat (but not telling you the rate at which it's beating) and detailing what position the baby's in.

Given the non-essential nature of these ultrasounds, and the price, not everyone will be interested. But we really enjoyed our experience and are thrilled with the results.

Pre-natal yoga sessions

I've been attending pre-natal yoga sessions with Megan Bailey since November (early second trimester). I have enjoyed them so much that they are almost crucial for my feeling of balance (mental, not physical) and connection with other pregnant women. Early in December, it was at a pre-natal yoga class that I felt the baby move for the first time.

Every week as we begin practice, Megan encourages us to get in touch with our own personal reason for our yoga practice. Mine has always been "to connect in a positive way with my body". Many's the time I have felt resentment, frustration, and disgust at what my body is doing and what it's putting me through (vomiting, exhaustion, weight gain, and so on). But for one hour every week, I vow to connect positively with my physical self, to embrace what it can do and let go of what it can't. It's extremely powerful. Because I started it early in pregnancy - before pre-natal classes started - pre-natal yoga was the first place I was encouraged to focus on my baby, to picture her inside my abdomen and use the positions to "hug" her gently, but still "leave room" for her.

Over the months, we have practiced several positions that are good for labour, such as squatting, which shortens the birth canal by 20% but which most Western women are unable to perform without a lot of practice (let's face it, we don't squat much in our daily lives).

And while we hold the poses, the moms - which is always a healthy mix of experienced moms and first-timers, and a range of those very newly pregnant to those very close to due - strike up conversations.

We share advice, stories, recent experiences, "What's up with this pain in my hip?", and a million other things. It's like a support group with stretching. It's incredibly liberating to be around other pregnant women, who understand and don't judge when it takes me way too long and produces way too much grunting to get into a position - because they're experiencing the same thing, or in the case of the newly-pregnant, they will be soon. The sharing and commisserating that happens during class is at least as valuable as the physical workout.

Megan charges $36 for a 7-class series of yoga.

The Thinking Woman's Guide to a Better Birth

If I could buy one book for every pregnant or trying-to-be-pregnant woman in the world, this would be it. Of course, it is to my great dismay that not every pregnant woman likes to read, and some in particular are quite turned off by this book and its "scary" facts. The truth ain't always pretty, sister - sorry to disillusion you.

To quote Penny Simkin's review: "[Henci Goer] analyzes and makes sense of a prodigious amount of recent obstetric research, boils it down, and summarizes its findings. And, on the basis of these findings, she makes practical recommendations for better births. Not one to pull the wool over anyone's eyes, Henci lets the reader in on her whole thinking process, providing scientific references, summaries of the articles, and logical recommendations--all in a highly readable, user-friendly format."

Now, I've learned in the past year or so that US hospitals and in particular OB-GYNs are far more intervention-happy than the average Canadian hospital, and that's good news. But I don't think that's an excuse to refuse to educate yourself on the procedures that might be suggested by your caregiver during labour and birth, and this is the best resource I've seen for doing so. Yes, the facts are scary, primarily because Henci does not give vague answers (a la our Public Health Nurse): she analyzes statistical data and points out the many places where obstetrical management claims to be helping, but is actually harming. You can't argue with statistics. You can, however, choose to ignore them - and many women (and their caregivers) do. I, on the other hand, am proud to be a Thinking Woman.

Since reading this book, I have completely reversed my stance on certain procedures - for example, fetal monitoring. I don't foresee any difficulties in having a low-intervention birth, since from all I've seen NRGH has the same goal, and I know for certain my caregiver (a midwife) does as well. But even if I don't ever have to draw on the copious amounts of knowledge I've attained from this book, I'm still really grateful to have that knowledge.

Amazon.ca sells this book for under $18.

BONUS Item: Birthing From Within Classes

I struggled with whether to include this item here, since ultimately I won't be able to determine its true usefulness until after I've experienced labour and birth. But I decided to go ahead and include it because even before the birth experience, the experiences of the classes themselves have affected me profoundly and helped me confront a lot of the fears surrounding birth.

I had a lot of lightbulb moments thanks to these classes. I realized I had an underlying prejudice against epidurals, or more specifically, against women who opted to get them. I realized that there is a crucial difference between interventions and unneccessary interventions, and started working on my own attitudes so that if interventions are neccessary, I will be able to accept them without judging myself. All this on top of the usual pain-coping strategies and practicing with Chris to help him help me.

I think the most important tool I got from these classes was granted by the facilitator (Regan)'s approach to questions. She invited questions at all times, but when we asked questions, she wouldn't exactly answer them. For example, when I asked "How can I know how to prepare for labour, when I don't have any idea what my particular labour will be like?" She didn't give me a pat answer, but instead validated my question ("Yeah, that's really the big question, isn't it?") and invited first me, and then the other participants, to discuss it. She would ask more questions, such as "how does it make you feel to face this unknown situation? How have you coped in the past when you have felt that way? So what can you do now to help you deal with these unknowns?" In this way she encouraged us to find the answers and solutions within ourselves.

This made me feel empowered and strong, because I know that when I am in labour I will not be struggling to remember what Regan told me to do, nor wishing that she was at hand so I could ask her another question. Instead, I have learned to look inside myself and trust my own instincts - surely an important skill that you want to impart to your group participants. "Give a man a fish, and he eats for one day. Teach a man to fish, and he eats for a lifetime."

First Class

Taming Tigers

Regan charges $130 for a 6-class series of Birthing From Within (which includes you and your support person).

Taming Tigers (sorry, very long)

Our Birthing From Within class on Wednesday was (in part) about taming tigers. "Tigers" is their term for the fears that may become obstacles in our birth experience. The analogy is: imagine a prehistoric woman, Lucy, who is pregnant. She has no clocks or calendars; instead, she has the phases of the moon and the changing of the seasons. One day something changes in her body. She is leaking. What might she do?

Chris answered that she might go to a haven, a safe place she might have arranged previously, to be alone and protected from predators. (This is something that most mammals do, so it makes sense.) So Lucy's in her cave. Her body is contracting rhythmically. And suddenly she thinks she sees a tiger pass by the entrance to the cave.

How does she react?

My answer was that she would tense up, perhaps even enough to stop her contractions. Adrenaline would come into play and interfere with oxytocin, the hormone that makes the uterus contract. Instead of her body's processes concentrating on making the uterus contract, the resources would be re-directed to the "fight or flight" reflex.

Of course, Lucy wouldn't know any of this. She would just know that she was afraid - for herself, and more specifically, for her child.

There were many points about this exercise that I found fascinating. The fact that imagined tigers have just as strong a physiological effect on us as actual tigers, for example. It's true: you know that feeling you get when you are sure someone's walking behind you or staring at you? The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, your stomach clenches, your palms sweat, your breathing becomes shallow - you turn around, and there's no one there. But your body reacted as if there were. If our brains give the signals for fear and adrenaline, it doesn't matter if there is a basis for that fear or not - the physiological responses will happen. And in terms of birth, those responses can stop labour.

So, the teacher guided us through a long visualization exercise in which we were to confront and tame one of our tigers. I chose forceps. (I have a few labour-related fears - caesarean birth and forceps are at the top of the list.) I am sad to say that in class, I didn't make much progress with taming my tiger. I couldn't think of any resources or coping mechanisms that would help me accept that the first thing my daughter would feel, her first sensation from this world, would be not gentle caring hands but the cold unyielding pressure of metal. On her tiny, perfect, soft head. It was just too cruel to imagine.

The teacher invited me to spend some further time on it, to work through it some more on my own or with Chris. She told us that "taming one tiger often tames them all" and that the effort would be really worthwhile. As a way to start doing that work, she asked me about a time in my past when something happened that I was unhappy about. "You don't have to share that experience with us, but just reflect on it for a moment. What helped you cope, when that happened? What actions did you take to try and deal with it?" Of course, the thing that leaped to mind was the miscarriage, and my answers were that I talked to people around me (Chris, Sara, and close friends), I journalled a lot, and mostly the passage of time helped me deal with it. She asked me to think about how I could use those things to help me deal with an unwanted tiger at my birth.

Last night at yoga, I think I reached some answers, or at least got very close. The result for me has been that I can now vividly visualize a forceps birth without feeling fear or anxiety - just peace and acceptance. What follows is a navel-gazing account of how I got there.

I had asked Chris to do a role-play with me, in which he would tell me that forceps were necessary for the baby to be born and I would react to this. He agreed, but we didn't even have time to do it before I had to go out to yoga. While there, I couldn't help but spend my meditative time imagining how this role-play might go, and trying to access the resources that would help me deal with an unwanted birth intervention. I imagined the following:

Chris: Honey, Lillian says that we are going to need to use forceps to get the baby out. She is stuck and in distress and can't be born without help.
Me: I feel scared. I feel like everything is going out of our control.

It was that phrase, out of control, that was the key for me. Of course, I am afraid of the birthing process being out of our [my] control. And of course, it is pretty much guaranteed that it will be out of our control. That's my true fear - that's my tiger. Any intervention I am afraid of is really a fear of not being in control of the situation.

As soon as I understood this, I instinctively and immediately let go of the desire to be in control. Being in control of the birth is not the end goal - a healthy baby is the end goal, with a side of positive birth experience. As I shared all this with Chris later, I said, "Of course we want a positive birth experience, but if our picture of what that looks like isn't matching up with the reality of how things are happening, which one of those can we affect? We can affect some aspects of reality, but ultimately, what needs to change is our picture of what a positive birth experience looks like."

(All of that, by the way, is so unlike me. Motherhood is changing me already.)

At this point in my thinking, it became much less about the specific (forceps) and much more about the general (any intervention and/or straying from the path of my ideal birth experience). Like Regan said, you tame one tiger, you tame them all. So, in real-world terms, what coping strategies can I/we use to deal with an unwanted intervention?

I view this kind of in circles. I hope I can make sense of this.

Chris: Honey, Lillian is suggesting that we [use some kind of intervention].

In the case of forceps, one reason for their use is that the mother is unable (or, for medical reasons, should not continue) to push anymore. So the first thing I would do is examine my own resources and say, "No, it's okay, I can keep pushing, let me gather my strength." Or, "Yes, it's true, I am completely out of energy, I can't possibly do anymore." I would determine whether or not I could do anything to improve the situation.

Then I would widen the circle to include my support people - Chris and our doula. What can they do, what can they suggest? If the suggested intervention is an epidural, maybe they can suggest a different position, assist with a massage to help relieve the pain, etcetera.

Then the circle widens to include Lillian. Does she have any suggestions for avoiding this intervention? Are there any alternatives?

If all these things come back "No" and the intervention is absolutely required, it is time to adjust that picture of a positive birth experience. It's time to give up control, realizing I/we have done everything we could do to affect the situation, but for whatever reason my body and/or the baby needs more help to be born. In this case, I give up my own sense of control and trust that God is in control - trade my micromanaging for peace, acceptance, and faith.

As I said, since figuring this out I can visualize the scary interventions without getting anxious or worked up. It's hard to put it all into words, but I do feel that I've made some really great strides away from my control-freak self and towards the self I need to be in order to birth successfully.

Birthing From Within (First Class): Introspection

Last night was our first pre-natal class.

I've tried three times to write this in a structured, formatted way, but I can't do it. Bullet points will have to suffice.

- It was amazing to watch Chris open his mind to the class and let the insights happen. At the beginning both he and the other dad were very much in the category of "being a good sport", but as we got more into the exercises he started to let go of his preconceptions and just be in the moment.
- The teacher commented a lot on my "wisdom" and "insight". I don't know if I am wise and insightful so much as very, very well-read. In addition to the pregnancy/birth/labour books and websites I have read, I have probably read hundreds of birth stories by women writing in their own words, which I find touch me very deeply. I've also read blog archive after blog archive, watching the story arc from "all I want is a healthy baby" to "my healthy baby is here and I'm so happy" to "I haven't figured it out yet but I've got PPD" to "a year after Junior's birth, I just can't reconcile my feelings about it". I am fully (intellectually) cognizant that our feelings and desires for birth, even when not consciously recognized, play a huge role in how we deal with the first year postpartum. So I figure consciously facing my fears and desires about birth is a good first step, and that's why I'm there.
- The pain exercise with the ice cubes is not very difficult. I want to find something harder that Chris and I can do together. He is very good at coaching me through 60 seconds of ice cube "contractions", which gives me a lot of faith, but I know contractions are going to be a lot more difficult (for both of us).
- The birth art was not as hard as I feared, thank goodness. She gave us a topic and 30 seconds to think about it, then 2 minutes to draw our reaction to it. We didn't have to show our art to anybody or discuss it with anybody - instead, we turned our pictures face down and were invited to share "what we learned about ourselves" or what ideas or images came to us in the process, rather than examining the finished work.

Going a bit deeper, here are my insights and/or things I need to work on.

I have absolutely 100% confidence that I can get through a normal labour. There is no doubt in my mind. What scares me is when things go beyond normal. Labour isn't progressing, or the baby is stuck, or in distress. This is when the caregivers will want to use interventions. Interventions scare the hell out of me. The most terrifying ones to me are forceps, epidurals, and caesarean sections. Last night after class I talked to Chris about my conviction that I can "do" normal labour with flying colours. I talked about how in cases when labour is not progressing and a c-section is looking imminent, the caregiver will sometimes present it this way: "I can let you keep pushing for 6 more hours, and then we'll probably have to do a c-section. Or, we can do one now." Then the woman (couple) is given time to process this, to grieve the loss of the vaginal birth they had planned, to prepare themselves mentally for the new path. I like that caregivers would do that (obviously not in an emergency situation where baby is in distress). It seems sacred and important.

But I told Chris that were I in that situation, I would have a lot of difficulty giving up moving on to Plan B. I would still be stuck in "mind over matter", in "I can DO this". That I feel I will need a lot of support to recognize when we have moved beyond normal labour into a situation where my body is not responding as expected, or the baby needs something beyond what I can provide. I will probably need a firm hand at that point.

And afterwards, how will I cope with the loss of The Birth I'll Never Have? I think the key is to eliminate all doubt. For example, I don't plan to have an epidural. But if the pain goes way beyond what I'm able to cope with, if my labour goes on for a day and a half and my body needs to rest, I will have one (it was very hard to even type those words). But when I get to that point where I feel I need one, Chris and our doula have been directed to go through our [yet-to-be-created] list of pain-coping strategies, one by one, and try everything on the list just one last time before accepting that no, none of these are working, and yes, I really genuinely need that epidural. Then later when I start to doubt myself and wonder if I really could have coped without it, I can reflect that we tried everything, nothing worked, and that I did need it. Same thing for any other intervention: at any point when we are getting near to using one (either because I want/need it or the caregiver is suggesting it), we will exhaust every alternative first.

One last challenge to mention is that there is only one other couple in our class, and they have a child already. The mentor, Regan, is a birth doula and a mother. So I am the only woman in the room who hasn't done this (labour/birth) already. That can make it just a wee bit daunting to go out on a limb and (for example) give Chris feedback on his coaching me through contractions. He was concerned that he was being too repetitive, that he said "You're doing great" and varations thereof too many times. I responded that I felt it was the reassuring tone in his voice, his physical presence beside me, and the undivided attention and support he was lending, much more than the actual words he said, that would help me through labour. Then I turned to the mentor and the other mom and asked if they felt this was true, since they'd done it before. It felt just a tiny bit awkward to try and suggest to Chris what I would need or want in a situation I've never been in - especially in front of people who have been there! On the other hand, I guess I need to remember that every labour/birth is different, and that there is no Right Answer.