no drugs this time, please... i'm already tired.

It's after 9:30 am, and Max is still sleeping. I thought about going up to check if he is breathing, but instead I'm blogging about him still sleeping. Max has been teething for what seems like a full week now. They tell you to count sheep to fall asleep, but when you don't get sleep, it's hard to count anything. So I don't know how long it has been since I've had a good nights rest. I'm headed into that realm of sleepless nights that begins my experience with a new baby. It's starting earlier this time around because of Max, but I've learned to manage... for now. We'll see how it goes when I can no longer nap with Max during the day because there is another baby attached to me. Nate asked me if I remembered a particular detail from Max's birth that I had completely forgotten about. So much of that experience and the days that followed seem like a dream partly due to drugs and partly to lack of sleep.

I had an appointment last week. I met with a doctor to consult about trying for a VBAC (or TOLAC). I had previously met with midwives as I had with my first pregnancy. I guess I was still hopeful that they would deliver on their supposed reputations of advocating natural and hands-free births. Maybe they would have this time, but I'm sticking to this doctor now. Why? Because I've run the gauntlet of intervention, and the interventions saved me from... not the labor itself, but the midwife. When I told this doctor that Max's head was engaged, that my husband could see Max's hair, he asked, "Did they try forceps? Suction?" "Nope! It wasn't even mentioned. They just rushed me off to a c-section." And for the first time, I received a reply that validated my frustrations. He said, "That's strange. Was the doctor new? He must not have been comfortable with forceps or something. It sounds like you should have been able to have that baby." YES! Yes. I'm assuming the midwives with whom I had shared the details of my first labor and delivery didn't want to bash their colleagues. I would get blank stares and nodding heads. So this doctor gets my vote. He makes sense. He is engaging and obviously educated and experienced. He spent time looking over my ultrasound with me when I asked about my uterine scar. It's not enough for me to hear "everything will be fine! You are young and healthy!" Lovely sentiments, but I want facts now. I want numbers and research. I'm now a statistic with experience of my own, and I want a better experience this time around.

Rawr... Someone is grumpy this morning. As you now know, I didn't get much sleep last night. Max? Oh, he's still sleeping. And yes, Nate checked. He is breathing.