Ciarán Tadhg, my Stargazer

Ciarán, born June 6th 2009
9:27 am
8lbs. 10 oz.

I can't believe it's been 4 months since Ciarán was born. I've been meaning to write about his birth for ages, but I'm only now getting the chance to do it. I guess I wanted to give it the time it deserves, because it was such a deep experience. But, as I've said before, writing the birth story of a child is so important-better late than never!

The drama of Ciarán's birth began a week before his arrival, when the midwife found that he was lying transverse. Because this posed a risk of prolapsed cord if my water broke, I had to go into the hospital. I was broken hearted heading in there. It was a beautiful sunny bank holiday weekend, and we had made plans to spend that Sunday in the park. By the time I'd walked up to Holles St. he'd turned head down again, and thankfully he stayed that way for 24 hours and I was released. What I did get out of that stay in hospital was a bit of rest, something that had eluded me at home with the two other kids.

That was the week of Daithí's election, so he was very busy and we were all preoccupied. On Friday, the day of the voting, I dropped Síofra off at school and had a chat with my principal. I remember telling him that this baby was waiting for the election to be over before arriving. I didn't realize then how precise this prediction would be!

The polls closed that night at 10 o'clock. Daithí was with other campaigners at a friend's house. At 10:05 pm I felt a pop and realized that my water had broken. I really hadn't expected this because with the other two my water hadn't broken until minutes before their births. This was the first of Ciarán's surprises. I called Daithí to come home and I also rang the midwife to come and check the baby's position, even though I wasn't having any contractions yet. From the time I called the midwife out and when she arrived, I literally didn't move from the chair I was sitting on. I felt frozen there, afraid that he was transverse and if I stood up and had a gush of fluid, the cord would come down. This feeling of fear doesn't lend itself to labor getting started! The midwife, Kate, arrived at 11 o'clock and checked me. Ciarán was head down, but still a bit high and I wasn't dilated. This didn't really surprise me, but I was relieved that he was head down. Kate left and told me to call her back when things got going, which would probably be during the night. Daithí and I went to bed. When Paddy was born I'd been able to sleep during early labor, so I thought I'd do the same this time. I did sleep, but the contractions were slow to start and irregular. At 5 am I felt things were far enough along to call Kate back. I also called Dee, my friend and doula, to come over. They arrived about 20 minutes later and...things slowed down to a near halt. The contractions weren't very strong, and were irregular. I knew this myself, and I was feeling really discouraged. I'd thought the baby would have been born by early morning! Dee and I took a walk outside, but that didn't help, either. I also became really aware of being watched, and started to feel self-conscious; plus, I knew Síofra and Paddy would be waking up at 7 or so, and as that time approached, the contractions slowed down even more. I started to believe this baby was never going to be born.

The kids woke up at 7:30 am, and Daithí quickly got them dressed. Arrangements had been made for our friend Keith to take care of them that day, and Dee drove them over there. Dee had sensed that I was feeling "watched" so she headed home after dropping the kids at Keith's, so that I could have a bit more privacy. At 8 am there was a shift change for the midwives; Kate went home and Niamh arrived. That's when everything changed.

I'd met Niamh first 5 years ago the day that Síofra was born. She was the person who planted the idea of having a homebirth in my head. Although she wasn't present at Paddy's birth, she had been part of the team of midwives who provided my antenatel care. And when we lost Fionn she was at his memorial service. She'd joked with me earlier that week that she was on duty Saturday and if the baby was born then it'd complete the circle for us. I was really glad to see her that morning!

Photo: Our two midwives: (l) Nicki, (r) Niamh

As soon as Niamh arrived the whole atmosphere changed. She started by telling me I needed to get warmed up. She cranked up the heat and closed the windows. I remember her saying, "Ok, where are you going to have this baby? Over here by the radiator would be nice and warm." She set up a place for me to give birth. All of the sudden I felt like I was actually going to have this baby soon! Niamh called for the second midwife to come over, which also boosted my confidence that the baby was indeed ready to be born. Nicki arrived 15 minutes later. In the midst of Niamh getting the house ready for a birth, she came over to me as I sat on the birthing ball and said, "Just remember, you have your little Fionn watching over you through this." Something inside of me shifted, and I had a little cry. I was still holding on to the fear and grief that was deep inside me. Those few tears released that; this was a profound moment for me. I realized that even though I was desperate for my baby to be born, my own body and mind were holding him in. Once I let go of that last bit of fear, the contractions came on fast and furious. This happened at about 8:30 am.

The apartment was roasting hot. Niamh got me into an even hotter shower. I returned to the corner of the room she'd set up. There were towels and plastic on the floor, and she'd set a chair for Daithi to sit in with the kids' little pink bathroom stool in front of it for me to squat on. I was beginning to feel a bit of an urge to push, but it was nothing like the overwhelming urge to push I'd had with Síofra and Paddy. I tried pushing a little, but it didn't seem to be going anywhere. I couldn't believe how different this birth was from the others! I thought I knew my body, but this was new territory. Niamh checked me at 9:10 am, I was three centimeters. I couldn't believe it was only that much, because I felt like the intensity was as full on as it could get. Niamh dragged me back into the shower, even though I was crying that I couldn't do it anymore. I threw up in the bathroom, which made Niamh very happy! I made an attempt at a few pushes in the shower, so we headed back to the corner. Daithí sat in the chair behind me and supported me under my arms, while I squatted down on the little stool. Niamh kept telling me that I'd have to squat deeply, which isn't a position I'd imagined using or felt inclined towards using. What she knew that I didn't know was that Ciarán was in an unusual position, occiput posterior. She was wise enough not to tell me this, and knew that a deep squat would help me push him out. At 9:25 am I was pushing with all my might. When I say all my might, I mean that I was using every single ounce of energy and power that I had. Every time he'd move down a bit, he'd slip back up at the end of the push. Niamh, Nicki and Daithí were all encouraging me to push harder and harder, and even though I felt I didn't have anymore to give, I did. Daithí told me to look at the clock, that our baby would be born by 9:30. It was 9: 26. That really encouraged me, and with one last monumental push, Ciarán's head was out. The rest of him came out with one more little push. It was 9:27 am. I have never, ever felt so relieved in my life. Niamh put him into my arms.

When Niamh told me he'd been OP, or "sunny side up," all the stopping and starting of the labor made sense, as did all that ferocious pushing. Not only that, but he was a nice big baby, too-8 lbs. 10 oz. (A whole pound bigger than Paddy had been.) I quickly delivered the placenta and then Ciarán and I moved to the couch and he immediately began feeding. The photo at the top of this post was taken about 10 minutes after he was born. He fed, and fed and fed all that day.

Síofra and Paddy came home that afternoon and were thrilled to meet their new little brother. Daithí had a very disappointing election result, but the joy of our new baby helped us to get over that.

Babies who are born face up, like Ciarán was, are called "Stargazers." I can't begin to thank Ciarán enough for all the joy and healing he has already brought into my life and into our family. After losing Fionn, I didn't think I'd feel hope and happiness the same way again, but thanks to my stargazer Ciarán, I am.

My dear friend and doula, Dee, met Ciarán for the first time the following morning. Even though she wasn't there at the moment of his birth, she was a part of it. She wrote this poem for Ciarán's welcoming ceremony.

Ciaran "StarGazer"

To dare to hope again,
to dare to love again,
all the what ifs,
the burden of worry that just wouldn't go away.
In the darkness and warmth you grew,
silent and steady.
With you grew the hope again,
what if everything will be okay?
Silent and steady,
the only evidence the swelling of your Mama's belly.
So precious, so private, so much.
you remind us of the mystery
little stargazer.

All my love Dee, your doula in spirit

My 5 year old

Síofra turned five last week. I think every child's birthday provokes reflection from her mother. She has been surprising us since the day she was born but she's grown up and changed so much this year that, in the Corkonian words of my sister-in-law, it's unbelievable.

Here's a summary of Síofra at 5 years old:

School: Síofra loves school; she loves her teacher, Mrs. Dunphy; she loves her friends there, especially Kelly, Diana, Powell and Christian; she loves doing her homework; she really loves P.E.; and her favourite part of the day, she says, is yard time. Sometimes when I'm on my break I look out our staffroom window and I can see her out on the yard playing. Usually she's running around the tree, sometimes she's playing with the hula-hoops. She always looks happy, and above all, I'm thrilled that she's enjoying school so much.

Reading: Síofra's class have been preparing to read for months, and finally got really going in March. Over the Easter break something clicked for Síofra, and now she's a reading machine. It's as if her eyes have been opened to every sign we pass, every word she sees on a billboard, and to all of her books at home. It's really exciting to see.

Paddy: A year ago, I never imagined Síofra and Paddy would have the relationship they have now. They are really best friends. Of course, they annoy each other, and even fight sometimes. But most of the time they play together and have great fun, and they have the most interesting conversations. Most of their games are imagination ones, and most of the time Síofra is either Paddy's mother or teacher. It usually involves a bit of bossiness but mostly her having an air of authority. He doesn't seem to mind. They had a great performance last week when some classical music was on the radio-Síofra was a princess who was dying (very dramatially) and Paddy was the "handsome prince" (his new name for himself) who discovers her and kneels by her side. Daithí and I were awestruck by the complexity of the scene and by how fully they were in role. We were also cracking up.

Food: Síofra eats more than any other human being I know. She really loves food. And although she loves her goodies as much as the next person, above all she really loves good food. Her favourite meal is spaghetti and salad, but she also loves quiche and tofu. After her first few bites of dinner, she exclaims, "Delicious!" She usually has 2 or more helpings at dinnertime. She has such a healthy shape to her-not skinny, not chubby, but incredibly strong. I love her approach to food, she really enjoys it.

Awareness of the World: Síofs is always surprising us with how much she understands about the wider world. She's very interested in different places and their cultures. It helps that her best friends at school are Rwandan, Romanian, Fillipino and Mongolian. Something was on the news recently about a war, and she asked if "those men are in a bad army, like Isreal." She has great sympathy for Palestine, and enjoys chanting "Free, free, Palestine!" at the top of her lungs. Granted, she's attended more than her fair share of Palestinian demonstrations, and sometimes I've wondered if knowing about the violence and injustice that happens in the world scares her. But so far, she just seems to be invested in what's right and wrong, what's fair and unfair, and she seems to understand that it's good to have an opinion. That makes me happy.

There's so much I could say about Síofra, but suffice it to say she's an amazing little girl who is a joy to be around.

Jammin'

Got the video camera at Christmas...still figuring the damn thing out.

Hope this works: a highlight from Síofra's birthday party, Musical Statues.

Resurfacing

The easy option for me would be to blame Facebook. It is pretty addictive.

But the truth to why I haven't posted anything here since September 8th is that I've been hibernating for the past 7 months. Actually, hibernating sounds too cosy, like a long nap. More like holding my breath, afraid to move to quickly, desperate to not look back and too frozen in time to look ahead.

But I am desperate to come up for air.

I swallowed my panic and bought a baby outfit today.

9 weeks to go...

Future Rock Stars

Is it really surprising that our kids are so cool?


Any suggestions for the name of their band?

First Day of School

Síofra started school today. She was very excited this morning, but got very shy when we arrived at the school. However, there were no tears (maybe a little bit from me) and she enjoyed her day.

Here she is, on her big day...

Farewell, Sunny Days

Tomorrow is the kids' last day at their creche. They both started there last August, and while there's probably not a perfect childcare situation that exists, we were all very happy with the place, and the people who cared for them there. Both of them love going there each morning; there have never been tears or sadness when we left them there. They've made friends that we talk about all of the time at home, and some that we even see at the park nearby. Paddy has learned to sing loads of songs, but his favourite is You Are My Sunshine. He and Trish, one of the women who works there, sing it together. Síofra is well prepared for school in September, and much of that is due to her work at the creche.

We would have been happy to keep Paddy there, but he got a place in another local, community creche that is subsidised, and costs less than half what this place does. So this decision is really about economics. The price of childcare here is insane; for the past 12 months we've been paying 1 1/2 times our mortgage in childcare. It was a killer, but come September we'll only be paying 1/4 of what we are now. So, in theory, we'll be rolling in dough. Yeah, right.

It's 9:30 pm and the apartment is about 101 degrees...not because of an Irish heat wave, but because I've got the oven on cranking out 24 cupcakes for the kids to take into school tomorrow, for their farewell party.

It's kind of sad to say goodbye to all the people at Sunny Days (the name of the creche is "Sunny Days" in Irish), but there are exciting times ahead, with new beginnings for the kids. Another lesson in letting go, and moving on.