relaxation woes

Cicadas roar. The birds dart around our deck, and the creek babbles lazily through our backyard. Relaxation should drift over me any second as I watch the sun dip below the horizon and take a sip of my half glass of red wine. I look at the wandering potato vine in the flower pot, thinking how next year I should plant one in a larger pot, so it has more room to grow.
Relax.

I try to glide into a calm feeling and lean my head back on the adirondack as I glance over at Olasky's The Tragedy of American Compassion on the small cedar end table.
When is that due again? I should probably get moving on that if I'm going to finish it by the due date...I was going to sew up that pink blanket this week, too. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow during nap time. Wait, I was planning to set aside nap time to catch up on my reading list.

The fog on my wine glass finally dissipates from the thick humidity, and I gather my hair in a ponytail, though it's not long enough and I don't have a holder. Uselessly, I loosen my grip and extend my arm for another sip as our air conditioning unit kicks on, breaking the silence.
I have to remember to drink a glass of water after I finish this--wouldn't want C.A. getting anything second hand during his "dream feed." I shouldn't get dehydrated either.

I wave off the fruit flies before I lift the glass to my mouth, and as the fermented drink washes over my tongue, I come face to face with a housefly--presumably drunk or dead--at the bottom of my glass.
So much for relaxing.

natural induction

It would have been appropriate for me to hang out a proverbial "Gone Fishing" sign over my blog a couple months ago. Since the birth of my second child, I feel like I fell out of the fishing boat and floundered since. I'm coming up for air and hoping to resurface altogether soon. Here's a deep first breath.

I've always wanted a natural labor and birth, and minus the dose of IV antibiotics to temper my Group B Strep, I experienced one almost 2 months ago. Long story short: my water broke at 9:30 P.M. 5 days before my due date, and C.A. was born just under 5 hours later at 2:20 A.M.
Was the pain horrible? Yes.
Did I consider medication? Yep, but by the time I thought seriously about it, it was too late.
Was it worth it? Absolutely!

Having time to reflect, I realize the glaring differences between my labors. I had to be induced with my first because I was 11 days overdue. Though I labored at home some before my scheduled induction, I didn't progress quickly enough after the doctor broke my water at the hospital, so she ordered pitocin. After 2 1/2 hours of vomiting and bed confinement on account of my IV and monitors, I shamelessly begged for an epidural despite my natural labor plan. After resting up, J.N. was born at 5:40 P.M. after 18 1/2 hours of labor and 40 min. of pushing.

My first labor was forced, pushed, and monitored at every step. I was hooked up to machines that measured, poked, and interfered with my body. The pitocin manufactured relentless contractions, and when the doctor informed I was ready to push, she set up a mirror, so I could see the baby's progress. It was an invitation to my delivery, a preview to my body's labor.

My second labor was spontaneous, unforced, and unrehearsed. I was free to walk around and labor in the tub. My contractions were autonomous, varied; after especially deep contractions when I thought I couldn't handle the pain anymore, the next couple subsided in severity and timing. I told the midwife when I was ready to push and knew my progress without a mirror, let alone my glasses. I didn't need an invitation to my delivery because I was hosting the experience.

Though I prefer my second labor experience to my first, the outcome was the same: both gave me an unspoken closeness to my love; both gifted me a sweet boy I cuddled and loved; and both rendered me thankful to the Creator of all things...natural and induced.