Pregnancy and Birth in Spain

Ok, here we go. I am finding the time to write this as my husband and son snooze happily snuggled on our bed together. I will be honest that seeing them like that turns me into a huge puddle of mushy. Anyhow, back to the topic at hand. If you haven't read my blog about my fertility struggles it is available amongst my other posts (I don't have that many).

Shortly after we found out I was pregnant we traveled to Paris where I got the brilliant idea of taking a photo with a onesie in front of the Eiffel Tower to make an official announcement of my pregnancy. Initially I was reluctant to announce my pregnancy because women with PCOS have a higher chance of miscarriage, but I decided that it was very important for me to focus on being positive and so I decided that all the 'feel good' vibes I would receive from my announcement were going to help me stay positive.

My Dr, here is something else I would like to talk about. Many of you are probably wondering what my experience with my Spanish Dr was. I would like to inform you that other than one small hiccup  it was AMAZING. My Dr has his own private practice but delivers baby at Ruber International (a famed Spanish hospital) he swears by them and believes that the hospital is the best. My personal opinion of the hospital is that it's just ok, but it was him who made all the difference.

So during my pregnancy I would visit my Dr at my regular appointments where my husband and I would get to know the funny side of Dr Campillo and I would become more and more confident that I am in the right hands. A unique aspect about my Dr was that he provided me with his cell phone number which he actually answered. Throughout my pregnancy my Dr would always answer my question and add, " Don't worry everything is going to be ok". I wasn't tearily worried but somehow hearing that phrase helped to ease any sliver of concern I may have had.

So, until week 35 of my pregnancy everything was smooth, and then, I fell and sprained my ankle on my way to lunch. I didn't fall on my stomach but managed to twist at the bottom which resulted in tearing all three tendons in my left ankle. Fortunately, I was with a friend who called John and we were able to make our way to our general practitioner to examine my ankle. Now, mind you, getting to the Dr should be another story on it's own but I'll try to cram it here. John walks to work because we live 8 minutes from his job, and I don't drive here because we are conveniently located in the center and everything is at our fingertips. So, when John found out that I had fallen he ran (in his suit and oxfords) all the way from work to get to us. Once John reaches us, he hails a cab, and carries me to the cab and we were on our way to see the Dr. To make a long story short, we had to go to a different location to see an Orthopedic Specialist (having to go to a different location has nothing to do with the health care system in Spain but with the health insurance that I have).

The hospital we chose to go to is the same hospital where my OBGYN contracts, and that day we were lucky enough that he was there. After seeing the orthopedic specialist, a partial scan of my foot and an exam it was determined that I had indeed torn all three tendons in my left ankle. The treatment plan was, bed rest, ice and elevate foot and use a huge black boot to keep my foot in place. I wasn't supposed to walk and was ordered  to use  crutches when I needed to move around our apartment. Let me tell you how awful it is to use crutches with a giant swollen belly. I was also prescribed shots to avoid blood clots. The orthopedic specialist called my OBGYN to approve the shots before prescribing them. My Dr had just finished a surgery and came down to see us and ensure that everything would be ok and having that extra reassurance really made me feel at ease.

Anyhow, after 3 weeks of bed rest (or house arrest as I liked to call it) I was finally allowed to walk outside of our house with additional contraptions attached to my foot. I went into labor 3 days after being 'let out' of jail. I remember that day clearly as I am sure every mother does. John and I had gone for Mexican, and were walking around when I felt 'something', and just had a feeling as if I would go into labor that day.

At around 9pm  I started to feel some contractions, they weren't painful but I knew what they were. John decided to put together our new BBQ just in case this was it. Well, it was 'it', at 12:30 am I was having contractions between 5 and 10 minutes apart. Between 12:30 and 4 am, after having called my Dr, showered and styled my hair I was waddling into the hospital  By 8:00 am, Dominick Konstantin Topete made his debut into the world via c-section. My labor progressed quickly, from the start, and it appeared as if I would be able to deliver naturally, however swelling in Dominick's head due to accumulated liquid between the skull and skin prevented him from coming down. So after unsuccessful results from pushing to try and bring Dominick down for a natural birth and the advise of my Dr, I was wheeled into the operating room for a c-secion at 7:30 am. By 8:00 am, our baby born was born, and as it turns out, on top of the liquid accumulated in his head he also had the cord wrapped around his neck three times. According to my Dr, the combination of the swollen head and cord wrapped around his neck would have made it impossible for a vaginal birth.

I am forever grateful to Dr. Campillo for not taking a risk with my son's life, and not making me suffer for hours on end. I am thankful that despite the circumstances, my husband was able to be there for the birth of our son, but mostly, I am glad that our sweet son is a healthy and thriving little boy. For me, the best aspect of my birthing experience here was my Dr's ability to communicate with me, and his ability to make me feel at ease despite the circumstances. I loved that Dr Campillo was with us from start to finish, I didn't worry about having to give birth with a different Dr. I hope that if we are blessed with a sibling with Dominick the birth experience is comparable to the service I have received here.

I wonder how many of you expected a scary and awful birth experience! Does it surprise any of you that I loved my birth experience here so much that I am concerned about what a birth would be like in the U.S?

On parenting advice

I have been meaning to blog about this, and today was the day. I woke up at 5:00 am with a twinge of irritation about the liberties that people allow themselves when offering parenting advice. So, I decided, today is the day when I will write something so profound that it will find its way into child psychology books. So here it is folks! This post is really about people who feel the need to push their parenting advice on others. It is about those who just can't understand that everyone has the right to pave their own parenting path. This post is about those people who smirk at the mention of cloth diapering, elimination communication or the fourth trimester theory. It's about the "wait and seers" as I like to call them. I mean, how much could a first time mother know, right? Nothing, I know nothing except for the fact that I loathe people who attempt to place parenthood in a box. Those are the same people who will most likely judge me for admitting to eating sushi during pregnancy. 

Listen ladies and gents, I get it, you've had one or two or three or 10 children already, and I respect that.  Believe me, I do! I am listening, and will take your advice, even the unsolicited kind. I will mull it over and apply the aspects that make sense to me. Unless you use phrases such as "well this is how it is", "wait and see", "so and so does this and it is so stupid". The moment that you utter those words know that I have already tuned you out, or I am most likely preparing for combat fueled by hours of research about parenting topics that matter to me. I find myself very fortunate to be pregnant in Spain and to have advice stemming from several different cultures. I have my mother, and friends whose opinions most matter to me. Most recently I have been fortunate to meet a new group of first and second time mamma's whose advice I value. This group of ladies share their stories and advice freely; they do not push their opinions, and are without judgment. I hear their experiences about pregnancy and birth, I ask questions and I receive advice, and find comfort in the fact that 'they' know what I am going through.  Do I follow every parenting tip I have ever received? No, I take the advice that makes sense to me and file it away for later use in my "Dominick" folder. 

I have researched parenting theories and topics that are of interest to me, and I chose accordingly. Just because I chose to use cloth diapers now, doesn't mean that I will not change my mind after the first blow out, or wash. But, I am willing to try, and it isn't a topic that is up for debate, more particularly with people whose only argument about cloth diapering is "it's unsanitary". If you are going to argue with me about my choices at least do us both a favor and GOOGLE it, because going off of what the diaper companies have put into your head isn't a valid argument. Now, I realize that cloth diapers are not for everyone, and I completely respect that. All I am asking for is for a little understanding that YOU cannot be sure it will not be right for me.  Comments such as "that's stupid" or "how could you believe that" really make me think that you have most likely confined yourself to your cultural upbringing, and it makes me that much less likely to listen to anything you have to say.  

So the point of this blog is to remind everyone out there, that although I realize that parenting cannot be summed up in any one theory or book. I understand that I may very well be proven wrong and may one day laugh about posting this blog. Nevertheless, this is our journey, John's Dominick's and mine, and we will learn as we go. I will continue to ask questions and feel thankful that I have people to answer them. So before you tell someone that "you will never enter another museum again" think about the fact that not all kids dislike museums. We are products of our parents so why would I limit my child just to Disneyland or water parks when I can expose him to the world as I was. We all find our way as parents eventually, regardless of how scary it is in the beginning, and as our children grow we will find comfort in the support we receive. Rather than judge one another we should understand that everyone's parenting experiences will be different. My choices do not make your choices wrong, and vice versa. I respect everyone's decisions as their own and refuse to place judgment on someone who is just doing the best that they can, because in the end we are all vulnerable beings struggling to be the best parents for our children. So if you chose to utter,  "you will see" or  "that's how it is" or if you begin to place judgement on others choices, please know that I have probably already escaped to a magical world where puppies and unicorns play freely and have already disregarded your comments.  

Thanks for reading! :)

Becoming pregnant is not easy for everyone!

I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome last year after months of failing to become pregnant.  My Doctor advised me that I will not be able to become pregnant naturally, and would need to be placed on medical treatments to conceive. After several months of treatments on Clomid and Metformin I wasn’t not only not getting pregnant, but was also under excruciation pain in my lower back that left me immobile some days. This pain turned out to be caused by the high dosage of Metformin that the Doctor had me on. When I asked my Doctor if the Metformin could be the possible culprit of my back pain, he dismissed the idea as ridiculous. I could not stand it any longer so I decreased the dosage and found that my pain decreased, one day I stopped the Metformin and my pain disappeared. Each month my Doctor placed an unreasonable amount of pressure on me for not getting pregnant, which added to my increasing stress level. During my final visit with that Doctor he suggested that I would have begin taking shots. I had finally had enough I didn’t ask what shots, I just remember thinking. “You take those shots buddy”. That was the last time I saw that Doctor.

I remember that day very well because I remember the overwhelming feelings of despair, and depression that had already began to sink in months ago. I remember those feelings intensifying that day. I decided that day that I would find an alternative to medical treatments. So I begin an Internet search about PCOS and found several forums and websites where women with PCOS discussed the positive effects they have seen on decreasing their symptoms on a gluten-free diet. I found other information that described the symptoms of gluten intolerance; I had 7 out of the 10 symptoms. Common sense told me, ‘stop eating gluten’, so I stopped. Within 3 days I felt amazing, I felt like a human being again, no more exhaustion, no more headaches, no more acid reflux, no more pimples. I felt happy, I felt ‘normal’! I felt as though an unseen force was holding my hand as I  continued to conduct research regarding PCOS and gluten. For the first time in months I felt at peace, I felt as though everything would be ok. I found Amy Meddling at PCOS Diva, and decided to try her meal plans to help me learn how to cook gluten-free food. I decided to continue my education regarding PCOS and gluten, and began a personal coaching program with Amy in June of this year. Three months after beginning coaching with Amy and six months after I stopped eating gluten I found out that I am pregnant. I am expecting our first child in May of 2014, and could not be more excited about it. I became pregnant without any medication or medical intervention!!!!!!!

There are significant gaps in the medical community specifically those pertaining to PCOS. Many Doctors will dismiss a gluten-free diet as having anything to do with infertility and PCOS. Nevertheless, there are studies that support a gluten-free diet for PCOS. Some studies today have shown that women with PCOS tend to be gluten intolerant, yet Doctors continue to dismiss this. Studies have also shown that gluten is a hormone disruptor. Women with PCOS already have a hormonal imbalance so if gluten further disrupts hormones why would we continue to consume it? Additional studies have linked gluten to hormonal problems, yet many Doctors continue to dismiss this. Some conditions linked to gluten intolerance are:

·      Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS)

·      Pelvic Inflammatory Disorders (PID)

·      Hypothyroidism, Hashimoto’s and Grave’s disease

·      Amenorrhea & Hypothalamic amenorrhea

·      Delayed onset of menarche

·      Female infertility

·      Male infertility including low sperm count and low motility

·      Miscarriage.

I know that there are skeptics out there who chalk this up to no more than a "fad diet". For many women with PCOS going gluten free isn't about weight management, it's a necessity. According to a study 85 % of women with PCOS were found to be gluten intolerant. Makes you think doesn't it! For women with PCOS going gluten free is not a temporary diet fix, it is a necessary life change because the symptoms of PCOS extend far beyond infertility. Trust me, going gluten free is much easier than it sounds. 

I choose to blog about this because I have seen a significant change in my life.  During the coaching with Amy from PCOS Diva I was able to find myself. I begin a personal journey that changed my life in ways I could not imagine possible. I have learned so much about myself, and PCOS. Amy helped me to see myself as a unique individual capable of reaching all of my goals. This journey was physical, psychological and spiritual, and it healed me.  I look forward to meeting the little miracle growing inside me. That same miracle that Doctors said would not be possible naturally. I want women with PCOS to know that there is hope!  I wish and pray that each and every one of you will experience the joy that I feel now. Any woman with PCOS reading this post I want you to know that you are NOT broken, you are unique! Someone helped me to realize that and I wish the same for you! God bless! 

P.S. My target audience are women with PCOS so please feel free to share. If this reaches even one woman with PCOS silently struggling with infertility this blog post will have served its purpose. I would also like to encourage people to refrain from asking couples about starting a family. First, it is inappropriate to ask someone that! Second you never know if the couple is dealing with infertility struggles. 

http://www.pcosdiva.com

http://www.pcosdietsupport.com/diet-tips/pcos-and-gluten/

http://www.natural-hormone-health.com/gluten-intolerance.html

This post is about Michael Jackson... :)

Some of you will probably laugh, disagree, or see this as a dramatized version caused by an over stimulus of Michael Jackson music. Perhaps you are right, nevertheless after many weeks of thinking about blogging I have finally been inspired to sit down and type out a few lines. I have had intentions of writing about Jamón (I promise a mouth watering blog about this food later on which will most likely occur post snack of the delicious Spanish delicacy). I have also thought about finishing my blog titled España, however it was the late Michael Jackson, the Kind of Pop who inspired me this sunny Saturday afternoon.

So, here I sit listening to Dangerous on vinyl, feeling a mixture of exhilaration and bereavement that the man whose voice is currently filling this room with up beat, catchy, and heartfelt harmonious creations is no longer amongst the living. To many he was simply "whacko Jacko", a "sick child molester", a disgrace, a deserter of his culture, and so on. I however am on the other side of that spectrum along with countless of other MJ fans. He wasn't the 'self proclaimed King of Pop', to us he was the King of Pop. Yes, I know corny, cheesy, funny, silly. After all I am a 'rock and roll' fan embarrassing myself by gushing over Michael Jackson music. Yes, indeed, I am because he is the sole artist whose music I have enjoyed for over 25 years, and I unashamedly admit to having had a Michael Jackson crush at one point.

I am not denying that he most certainly became the poster child of bad plastic surgery, and poor mental health. However, I also believe that his down hill spiral occurred as a result of mental instabilities caused by a combination of contributors you and I will most likely never have knowledge of or understand. Nevertheless, his death has cleared his name in some ways.  For example, we learned that he did in fact have vitiligo which caused his skin to turn white (google the disease for more information). Postmortem, we learned from his daughter Paris that his choice to cover their faces was solely to protect them so that they may go out in public unrecognized. Yet for many, Michael Jackson was, and will continue to be the musical genius whose star will endure the test of time. His catchy beats will continue to guide people off their tukus and onto the dance floor. I feel fortunate that he existed in my lifetime.

 As you have seen this blog is not about Jay-Z, Lady Gaga, Snoop, Gangam Style, or whatever other 'cool' musician happens to be the current hit. It is an 'uncool' 'dorky' blog if you will, a sole expression of a constant fan of Mr. Jackson... so I leave you with the following...

"Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I am dancing, I have felt touched by something sacred. In those moments, I felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists.
I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing then it is the eternal dance of creation. The creator and creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing.. and dancing, until there is only... the dance. "
-Michael Jackson

Adulthood

I have come to discover that blogs are best written as they come to mind, planning and thinking of what to write will most likely lead to a blog post that never was. I have a couple of other drafts I have been meaning to finish for several weeks. So today, I am composing this blog on a whim, and I would like to venture into the abyss that is adulthood. You see this thought came to me at a completely random time (as these thoughts often do) shortly after basking in the stimulating performances of last night's Dancing With the Stars finals. As I watched Shawn Johnson's Cirque du Soleil type of a performance that will most likely win her the trophy I found myself shouting profanity at the television that would make a rapper blush. So I thought to myself, "seriously Silvanna, that is how you express joy by spewing profanity?" those were the actual thoughts that crossed my mind. I remember a time when I would say, "profanity dirties my mouth, and I don't want a dirty mouth", yes, these are true words. I am capable of expressing joy, and approval as an educated adult; nevertheless, I seem to be plagued with blusterous moments of sauciness. So, this led to me think about adulthood and the upheaval that occurs as we venture into the stage that will be with us for the duration of our lives. 

I thought about innocence and those small things that were much more appreciated in our childhood phase. As children, we were able to find pleasure in a ball, a lollypop, secretly wearing our mother's heels, or in my case listening to my father's vinyl. We found joy in playing hide and seek, soccer, making castles out of bed sheets, and spending late summer hours outside. As adults, we become jaded, angry, mean, ungrateful, and unappreciative of the things that really matter. In adulthood, we experience road rage, frustration at the parking space thief, the guy who attempted to cut in line at the coffee shop, or the parent who failed to 'control' their child's tantrum at the super market. I realize that not all adults fall into the 'jaded category' and perhaps I am painting a picture of my self while cleverly generalizing all adults to avoid bruising my own ego. Nevertheless, I admit to have participated in an embarrassing fit of emotions similar to those mentioned above. Even though I do love this prestigious age of 33, I do long for the innocent moments of childhood, and vow to bring back a little bit of that precious time in my life. I plan on achieving this by nixing those meaningless frustrations and taking the time to appreciate the small gestures that still find their way in to my life. Today, I am thankful that chivalry still exists because a few weeks ago a man offered to carry my groceries, another stepped out of the metro simply to wait while some of us 'jaded' ladies stepped off, and another noteworthy action I enjoy is that my husband still opens car doors for me. I am grateful that these small gestures still find their way into my life. I vow to become more aware of those little displays of kindness as they continue to bring an unconscious smile and sense of awareness in my consciousness; they are the closest I will be to my childhood innocence. This probably does not make any sense as it is a jumbled mess of thoughts spewed out in text but I am ok with that.