Thursday, February 23, 2012


     I learned with my first daughter that becoming a mother involves the ability to surrender.  It begins first with surrendering your body to the growing of a new being, surrendering to the earth shattering pains of child birth, surrendering sleep and other basic necessities.  I thought that this time around I would have the surrendering part down.  But Freya has taught me a new kind of surrender.
     My oldest daughter's birth was one of the most empowering of my life.  I birthed her at home, in the water, with my and my partners own hands.  She nursed right away and continued to do so for 2 and a half years.  When she gets growing pains I rub her leg with homemade herb oil.  When she gets a fever I give her a warm bath and herbal tea from the garden.  I was ready to do this all over again.
     When I walked into the birth center for the last resort external version to turn my breech baby my first thought was, "I can't have my baby here".   That was the first surrender.  A few hours later I was laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV of pain medicine and a catheter, holding my newborn that had been brought into the world via the gloved hands of doctors and surgical equipment.

     She was too weak to nurse so they brought me a pump and a syringe.  I began the tedious task of finger feeding, grateful for any mL I could get in to her.  By the time we went home, 4 days later, she was nursing, but with the help of a nipple shield.  A few weeks later and too many ounces lighter I gave her her first bottle of pumped milk.   In 20 minutes she gulped down 2 ounces!  That moment was bitter-sweet.  Finally something had worked to get her to eat well, but it was not the sweet, mother-baby snuggle bonding time that it was with my first daughter.  It was mechanical, and there were too many steps between my milk and her mouth.  That was my second big surrender.
     In January we went for the genetics testing.  Freya was 2 and a half months and barely 8 lbs.  They talked with a nutritionist who said we needed to add a little bit of formula to her bottles in order for her to get her required calories.  Surrender number three.
I imagine they will keep coming, but with every one it is getting a little easier.  Now we can't wait to get her to the doctor and start her hormone treatment.  For now every morning she gets 1 mL of fish oil and 30 mg of CoQ10.   We're waiting for physical therapy to start, but for now are giving her tummy time and lots of stimulation.  The tummy time is to help her strengthen neck muscles so she can soon hold up her head.  The stimulation (involving  brightly colored, plastic toys - another, albeit small surrender) is to increase her alertness and help with brain development.
     I thankfully have no regrets so far.  The cesarean was performed by caring, sensitive doctors and, though I didn't get to watch or feel her enter the world, I did see the joy in Andy's face as they lifted her from my womb. My hospital room was decorated by the loving hands of my friends and I was taken care of by helpful, caring nurses.  Though her feedings are not the ideal situation, I now know it is because of her disorder, and what must happen.  I'm grateful to still have the milk to feed her.


  1. Wow Annie, what a powerful post. I love the strength I hear coming from this post. You are an amazing mother, you do what needs to be done for your child. I will keep you in my prayers.

    Julie Robinson

  2. Anne, I am very moved by these words. So grateful for you to share in the many experiences and emotions you will touch upon in your family's journey. Please continue, and until then, you are in most loving thoughts.

  3. What an eloquent way to describe what happened. My normal pregnancy ended the same way as yours, and our home birth didn't happen but when Annelise finally came home six weeks later, my husband took her to our room and said, This is where you were going to come into the world first. I can't say we reenacted the birth :) but allowed ourselves sometime to imagine it there with her finally at home.