The Sisterhood of Motherhood

Years ago, I would have told you that I firmly believed men generally have stronger friendships with each other than women do. I spent too many years growing up having difficult and disappointing friendships with girls. By High School, I mostly hung out with boys because it was simpler than dealing with drama that came along with female friendships.
Lately though, I've realized that maybe it's not that girls are naturally bad at being friends... I think maybe, when it comes to having good relationships with each other, we just tend to be late bloomers. When we're young we might be more prone to gossip or be catty, to be competitive with each other about boys or our looks. I'm sure we've all been on the giving and receiving end of talking behind someone's back. Then we get older and something forces us to be more selfless, and to rely on each other way beyond the superficial things we cared about before... and that something is motherhood.

Nothing has bonded me quicker to other women than this business of motherhood. I've been so blessed to have a wonderful husband who always supports and loves me, but you learn quickly in motherhood that you need someone who you can turn to who can say: I get it. I've been there.
You need those friends who you immediately bond with because you have similar birth stories, or your kids are in the same phase right now, or who simply see you struggling with a cranky toddler on a bad day and don't for a second think that means you're a bad parent.
Those friends who can give you a book-length list of ideas to help your colicky baby when their pediatrician's only advice is to "burp her more".
Those friends who text you back at two am because they are awake too.
Those friends who you can complain to about your kids who you love so much, but who drive you so crazy, and they don't tell you to "enjoy it, because it goes by so fast." Some days, it feels like it can't go by fast enough.
Those friends who show up with a meal or a drink when they know you're struggling, but can't even come inside because they have a car full of kids too and those ten seconds at the door are the only time you see each other in months.
Those friends who ask how you're doing, and genuinely want to know. (Even when they realize that question might lead to an hour of tear-filled conversation.)
Those friends who don't question it when you tell them that yesterday, you cried for no reason over a cat food commercial.
Those friends who can mourn with you during a pregnancy loss that leaves you feeling gutted, and would never think to utter the words, "It doesn't matter, you can always try again."
Those friends who have dealt with their own infertility, and even though it looks completely different from yours, they understand the unique pain that is desiring motherhood and having those desires go unfulfilled.
Those friends who understand the anxiety and depression that can be crippling with a new baby, and even if they can empathize they never pretend it's normal or ok.
Those friends who understand that you can love your children and being a mom, and also feel completely lost and not know who you are anymore.
Those friends who help you choose a new haircut when you're having a postpartum identity crisis.
Those friends who check in and offer help even when they are at their wit's end themselves.
Those friends who love your children like their own not because of any blood relation, but simply because they love you.
The minute you enter the life of motherhood, whether that's when those two lines on the test appear or even before you ever have a child, you need friends like that. You realize there is no room in your life for talking bad about another woman, because we need each other. If you don't have those friends, call me. I'll be that friend. I'll share the wonderful group of women I've found, because I'm proud of the deeper connections and friendships I've made. I love when on a really bad day, a small voice in my head tells me to text a certain friend, and I know she'll understand.
We may not have had it all together when we were younger. We may have known or even been the mean girls at some point. But when we grow up and have those little people depending on us, it is amazing the sisterhood we can build.

Remlee's Birth Story

After Dayen and Arie's births,  I was really scared to be pregnant again because I didn't know what I wanted out of a birth anymore. I felt like I had a lot of trauma from my birth experiences, and I still had never gotten the natural birth I thought I wanted. This pregnancy came as a surprise, which made it even harder to wrap my head around trying once again to have a natural birth. I kept thinking I would come around to the idea and get excited and prepared like I had with both the boys, but I never did. The idea of birth just felt daunting and I didn't think that would go away before she was here.

I finally decided to take away the pressure of having a natural birth. I planned on getting the epidural this time, or at least doing a "wait and see" approach- if I felt like I was handling the contractions fine and maybe if my labor wasn't so long, I could do it. But if I got the epidural, I wasn't going to beat myself up over it or feel like I failed.

Then right about the time I hit the third trimester, my friend had her baby in the birth center. I was supposed to be her birth photographer, but for some reason my phone never went off during the many calls and texts I got that night. I ended up missing the birth by about 20 minutes. I felt (and still feel) awful, but I think it happened for a reason, because even seeing her in recovery brought back some bad memories for me. She was a rockstar and had her 10 lb 3 oz baby naturally, and I think it made me realize: this should have been me last time. If this is really what I wanted, I should have been able to do it with how easy Arie's birth was going, but instead some trauma from Dayen's birth led to a hospital transfer and a lot of pain. (I didn't realize until much later that although I was at a 9 at the birth center, I went down to an 8 when we got to the hospital. I felt so scared and was fighting the contractions so much that my cervix was closing during contractions- which is honestly the worst pain I've ever felt.)

I came home from my friend's birth and had a small birthing identity crisis. I texted my midwife and told her, "I need you to talk me down from a ledge. I am seriously considering an induction this time, please remind me why I don't want that." I was expecting a laundry list of reasons not to do it, but instead she replied, "I think you would be a great candidate for an induction." I burst into tears. I think, deep down, it was exactly what I wanted to hear. But I had also gone through 2 pregnancies believing I thought one thing, and now I was thinking about going against that. Not only that, but if I was going to get induced anyway, then I didn't want to wait the usual 2 weeks past my due date that my babies tend to come. My midwife said she would induce at 39 weeks. I cried some more about that.

In the end, I decided to set an induction date, and if the day came and I didn't feel good about it, I wouldn't do it. I did lots of research, which in all fairness, showed different outcomes than what many people believed when I was pregnant with Dayen. Inductions didn't actually lead to a 50% chance of a csection. Still, it was terrifying to choose when I had always let my babies come on their own. I didn't want to use pitocin, I didn't want to choose my baby's birthday, and I didn't want to end up with a csection because of something I chose.

In the days leading up to the induction date, I felt nothing but peace about it. We decided to go in the night before for cervidil. I had been at 2 cm for 3 weeks, and I thought even if I could dilate another centimeter in the night, that would be a little less time I would have to be on pitocin. We checked in at 6 pm and had the cervidil in by 7:30. We had a pretty restless night where I was having Braxton Hicks every few minutes, so I was hopeful that was a good sign that I was progressing. But at 6 the next morning, I was only at a 2.5. I had it in my head that there was a good chance the induction just wouldn't work, and even though it would have been really hard to go home without a baby, I made sure my midwife knew I would choose that over a csection for failure to progress. So we basically couldn't get an epidural or break my water, or I'd be on the clock and have to deliver.

We started the pitocin at 6 and the contractions picked up pretty quickly. I was eating breakfast at 8 when I suddenly had a really strong contraction that made me feel really sick. I told the nurse I was going to throw up, so she left to get some anti-nausea medicine while I threw up so violently my ears and throat hurt the rest of the day. I told Caleb not to look at me because that's basically the only mystery we had left in our marriage, but that's out the window now. Having babies has a way of making you as grossly vulnerable as you can possibly be.

Luckily the nausea medicine worked pretty quickly, but when they checked me again I was still only at a 3. My midwife said she wanted to break my water to get things moving, but I panicked because that felt like the final decision that would lead to a csection. So we decided to wait until I progressed a little more, but honestly, I still fully believed I wouldn't progress and we'd be going home still pregnant.

After that the contractions got a lot worse. I didn't do any kind of preparing for labor this time, thinking that my past preparations for a natural birth would all come back to me in labor. Although the pitocin contractions weren't quite as bad as back labor with my 9 lb baby Dayen, or 9 cm contractions with Arie, they were still really strong really fast. There was a definite difference between when your body goes into labor naturally and when it's being forced by pitocin. To make things worse, whenever I tried to sit on the yoga ball or squat on the ground to do any kind of pain management during a contraction, we would lose the baby's heartrate on the monitor. I basically had to sit perfectly still so we could make sure she was handling the contractions ok. As they got stronger, I started feeling really emotional and frustrated through them. I just wasn't prepared for labor, and I was feeling so frustrated with my body that my choices were a) go two weeks overdue or b) induce. Why couldn't I just have one magical, random 38 week baby?

Caleb saw how frustrated I was getting and suggested that I get the epidural and let them break my water. We had talked about how he had felt promptings during my previous labors and never felt like he could voice them because everyone else in the room seemed to know more about birth than him. So I told him if he felt that this time, I wanted him to speak up. He might not go through the physical part of labor with me, but I've always said I'd rather do it myself than have to watch my spouse go through it, and he has carried a lot of trauma from our birth experiences too. So I texted my midwife and told her, "I think I want the epidural, but I'm still really scared this is the decision that will lead to a csection." She said, "I think that's the right decision. If I'm wrong, I will make it up to you by making sure you don't end up with a csection." It was exactly what I needed to hear, so we called in the nurse and asked for the epidural.

By 11:00 I had the epidural and they came in to break my water. I was at a 4. Everyone kept saying she would come that afternoon, but as soon as we were alone Caleb and I agreed that we should plan on an all day labor and a middle of the night delivery, because that's just how things go for us. So we turned on Impractical Jokers and relaxed and took a nap and just settled in for a long day.

At 1:00 my midwife came back to check me again. I told her I wasn't feeling very good, just felt kind of "off", and she smirked like that was what she was expecting. I knew she thought I was in transition, but I didn't believe it. She checked me and smirked again, and I said, "What? Am I at 4.5 now?" She said, "Nope, you have 2 centimeters left. I'll be back in an hour and we'll have a baby!" I didn't even have a response. I think I sort of went into shock and a combination of that and being in transition made me start shaking really hard. I had never had a labor even close to this short, and honestly I had never really processed the fact that we were about to have another kid.

The nurse came back an hour later and I was fully dilated and ready to push. I couldn't stop shaking, and as soon as my midwife came in I just started crying. I looked at Caleb and said, "I'm not ready to have 3 kids!" and they all laughed because... too late. I pushed maybe 3 times and she was here! With my boys I had always pictured the emotional moment when they were finally born and I got to see them for the first time, but I had always been so exhausted by then that I couldn't really process it. With Dayen especially, I remember looking at him and thinking, "Huh. Look at that. A baby." This time, it was exactly what I always pictured. I was fully alert and crying when I saw our daughter for the first time. I always felt like I really had to work to get my babies here, but this time it was so easy and awesome and even 3 weeks earlier than I'm used to!

It looked nothing like what I thought my "ideal birth" would before I ever had kids, but it ended up being my favorite birth by far. I'm so grateful for a care provider who listened to me and helped me have the healing birth that I needed, even if it looked different than I ever expected.

And today, I get to say to my cute, 5 day old baby something that I never thought I'd get to say to my kids: Happy due date! Trust me when I say, I am so glad you're already here.

Remlee Ann Fonnesbeck

May 27, 2020

2:36 pm

6 lbs 14 oz

19 3/4 inches