Kerstin Baker-Ash

And Baby Makes Three

 

A watched kettle never boils, or so the saying goes. Our beautiful baby girl finally made an appearance on January 29, 2010 at 2.43 am in Hertfordshire, England. She weighed 8 pounds 14 ounces and measured a very tall 22 inches long. We're slowly getting into a rhythm as a family of three, and are absolutely and totally in love with our princess. I've posted a very long labor story below; if you're expecting and are thinking that you can jump in the birthing pool with the soft sounds of orca whales in the background while you push, read no further. 

I actually started going into labor on the 23rd of January. Like many first timers, it got going, going, going and then stalled abruptly. Excitedly, we had prepared for a very quick trip to the labor ward as the contractions were getting to the magical point of 45 seconds or longer and I'd had more than 3 in ten minutes for an hour or so. I was disappointed when they stopped so suddenly, but it seems our girl had very different plans for her arrival. We went to the hospital on Sunday morning after a show, but we were sent home with instructions to relax even though I was having contractions.

By Monday, I was getting more than a little impatient. I had heard that acupuncture could work, so made an appointment at a local clinic in Letchworth. It seemed to work; contractions started again in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, and my husband excitedly called his work to let them know he wouldn't be coming in. Labor then seemed to stall again; we went on a long walk, I had a bath, a shower and even bounced on my birthing ball... it just wanted to stall. I had another acupuncture appointment on Tuesday afternoon which made the contractions stronger, but no closer together.

I called my midwife and it was suggested I go in to get checked. I don't like the kind of examinations they perform when you're nearly two weeks overdue, but I was actually looking forward to being told how far along these contractions were getting me. Disappointingly, nowhere. My cervix was still posterior, I was no more dilated than I was a week before at just one centimeter. Gutted, we asked if my induction date could be brought forward by a day (it was scheduled for Thursday the 28th) and the doctors agreed that it was unlikely that I would get anywhere on my own. I was admitted to the labor ward and given the first round of medication designed to ripen my cervix and push Mother Nature along mildly.

We were entertained throughout Wednesday afternoon and annoyed by Wednesday evening by a family of Irish Travellers - a young girl was being induced at the same time as me - as the gas ran out, the girl got louder and louder. My only criticism of the Lister Hospital in Stevenage would definitely be the wait for the gas and air to be brought up by porters - an eight hour wait is totally unacceptable, and when you're in labor being offered codeine it just makes you want to bite the head, arms and legs off the midwife who says you don't need the gas just yet. There could be another reason that the Traveller girl's gas ran out - when she went to take a bathroom break, her baby's father started sucking on the stuff himself (and got a stern talking to by the midwife). Classy.

The passage of time from Thursday morning gets a bit fuzzy for me. My contractions got pretty darned strong sometime around 4 am, and I don't remember my husband returning to the hospital at 8 am when visiting hours began. I was aware that he was texting my friend (who is a physician) to ask questions about the treatment being offered, but the gas and air is quite effective at making you higher than a kite. At some point, I was given a shot of morphine in my leg - again, I can't really remember it although I know I felt a bit better until I started vomiting.

At some point in the late morning, I was wheeled down in my bed to the delivery suite as my contractions were getting stronger and the midwives felt that I was ready to go down at 3 cm dilated. Despite strong contractions, they still weren't regular enough and the decision was taken to start me on a syntocinon drip. At this point, I was given an epidural (which I remember) as the synthetic drug produces excruciatingly strong contractions. Unfortunately, the epidural didn't take at first and I was being topped up regularly. 

At some point after the clock struck midnight, I had an incredibly strong urge to start pushing. I can't really describe the carnal feeling that "it's time", but I could not control my body any longer... I was just pushing. The midwives asked me to stop pushing as I was only 9 cm and as hard as I tried, nothing would stop what my body felt was right. As a result of the stress, the doctor told me I was in or had tachycardia, the baby's heart rate jumped up dangerously high and they stopped the drip to try to help us both get a bit more stable. I was pretty far gone at this point - morphine, gas and air and the epidural were making me pretty incomprehensible. I entertained the medical team in the room by asking for water and then spitting it out all over my husband, and talking about needing time off from work for a conference in June. 

When I was actually allowed to push, I remember being told not to scream as the energy used to scream would divert from the energy needed to push. Yeah. You try that. I did manage to quiet down a bit, but not quiet enough to stop scaring the women who must've heard my roaring in other delivery suites. I remember someone telling me that they would have to use a Kiwi Cup and to keep pushing. I thought I was going to pass out before I got to see my daughter, but just when I thought I couldn't push anymore, I felt a "pop" (among other things) and I looked down to see my baby. I couldn't hear her, and kept asking if she was okay. I remember my husband telling me she was fine, she was crying and she was perfect. Through the haze, I was so incredibly relieved.

They brought her to my husband, who held and kissed her for the first time and he showed her to me. During this, the doctors were saying that I needed surgery and I remember thinking that I didn't want my baby being fed formula as I wouldn't be able to feed her right away - they assured me she was fine and would not go hungry. 

For two hours, my husband sat with his little girl as they waited for me to get out of the operating theater and then I finally got to meet her. All ten fingers and ten toes perfection, my baby daughter was beautiful and wonderful and it was hard to comprehend that we were now parents.

More than two weeks later, I still stare at her thinking how lucky I am to get to be her mom. My husband and I, both university educated, now discuss bowel movements and vomit with refreshing enthusiasm (not our own, mind...). My own mother stayed for a week to help, and I've just done my first day just me and my baby. 

My baby. It's incredible - I'm blessed beyond measure, and so excited to journey with her as her mom for the rest of my life. Welcome to the world, perfect baby girl.

When You Think The Baby Will Never Come...

There have been a lot of tears in my house this weekend. Tears of frustration, tears of exhaustion and tears from a Vindaloo. There's an end in sight - I'm being induced on Thursday - but a lot of my upset stems from a rather stupid belief that my body is somehow not working the way it should be to deliver this baby. I feel like a complete and utter failure.

The baby is fine. Monitoring shows that Baby Ash is "textbook" - lots of movement, lots of increased heart rate when there's movement, and I've even tracked a couple of real, live contractions. They just haven't amounted to anything solid - even to open up just one centimeter more. So, the baby just isn't ready to greet the world... yet.

We've tried everything. Well, everything except for castor oil because the side effects scare me. However, last night's Vindaloo produced what I can only describe as comparable results to castor oil; there's a reason that the dish has "loo" in the name. What a stupid, stupid choice which resulted in a sleepless night and increased irritability. Still - desperate times call for desperate measures.

Everything seems to be able to piss me off (sorry about the language, I figure I can get a free pass at 9 days overdue, right?). There seem to be a lot of people due around the same time as me, and I've been seeing baby albums on Facebook and bursting into tears. At the hospital the other day, we saw two couples from our prenatal classes who were due one and two weeks after us respectively; one couple already had their baby, and the other were pacing up and down in the transition phase of labor. Tears again.

I know people are excited to hear about this baby. So are we. I feel like unplugging our home phone line and just ignoring the world. I have some wonderful friends and family, and I don't like feeling frustrated towards their excitement; I'm so glad that I have people who care about me and who care about this baby. It's clear that Baby Ash is going to have a lot of admirers and friends when it finally decides to break free (queue Queen music here). 

The truth is, sometimes I feel like talking to people and sometimes I don't. Sometimes I feel like laughing about being so overdue, and sometimes I wish people would just calm down and stop asking me (or my husband, mother, father, brother, grandparents, etc) if I've had the baby yet. Honestly, with all the connectivity that exists - especially in the age of social media and my high usage of it - you're going to know not only when we go to hospital but when we have the baby (except from Friday night to Saturday night, sorry folks) pretty sharpish. I'd like to blame my mercurial mood on hormones, but it's more like frustration than anything else. 

There's so much else going on in the world - so many people who are in much more dire straits than I am being over my due date - I use that to get back into my happy place. I just wish that I could keep that at the front of my mind when people, lovely as they are, look for baby updates. I hope and pray that this is my last baby-free entry. If not, I can only just keep on trucking, right?

Stop Asking!

I'm overdue. Waaay overdue. I'm probably the first person that recognizes this, and yet people feel compelled to tell me "wow, you're really overdue!"  

Shut up.

Seriously - I've arrived at a really good place around this baby's anticipation build-up. It's not helpful to tell me you think it'll happen anytime now (I know... that's the nature of being more than 40 weeks pregnant...) or that you know how I feel (especially if you're a dude... wtf?). I'm taking it unbelievably easy, not entirely by choice as late pregnancy has some interesting side effects (not to do with the baby or blood pressure, don't worry), and my husband is being supportive above and beyond what's reasonable even from an overdue wife.

So we're good. Adding to the "letting go" is the fact that, come hell or high water, I will be having this baby in a week. I'm booked in for an induction on the 28th, and have already had what seems like an effective sweep.

I appreciate your good thoughts, but stop with the asking or "feeling" like today is going to be the day. You're jinxing it, and getting me out of my relaxed and easy place that I've worked so hard to get to and stay at. My baby is unique, special and wonderful, and it'll be ready when it wants to be. 

Playing the Waiting Game

One day to go. One day until I can justifiably feel a bit fed up of playing the waiting game, and potentially one day to go until we can finally meet our firstborn child. Every little twinge, every sign makes us jump up and wonder if it's go time, only to be disappointed a couple of minutes later. 

Things are happening - I had my 40 week midwife appointment yesterday and the baby's head is fully engaged, just waiting for the rest of my body to catch up and the baby to release those wonderful hormones which signal that it's ready to make an appearance in the world. It's an update from last week, when the baby's head was still palpable and only 2/5 engaged. So, we're not stuck in limbo; there has been a lot of progress.

We've been telling the baby that we're ready, and trying to entice it out with promises of snow (figuring this half-Canadian baby might be coaxed by the white stuff). It's missed out on the snow, so maybe it's waiting for the big thaw to be complete before it makes a grand entrance.

The baby is apparently as big as a watermelon and can weigh up to 9 pounds, according to the WhatToExpect.com iPhone App. I'm not going to pretend that I can't remember a time when that counter said 30 weeks to go, or when the baby was as big as a pineapple or even a pumpkin seed. Still, it's gone sloooowwwwlllllly. I'm sure I'll look back on this time and wonder where it all went, but at this stage I'm carrying a watermelon and feeling pretty huge. I can't wait to see the baby, which I suppose is the reason I feel it's dragging along.

So, watch this space. Hopefully the weekend will bring not only progress but a tiny baby to call our very own.

Birth Plan

It's become quite a common practice in the United States to put together a thorough plan for how you want your labor and delivery to go. Most of the time, babies have their own ideas about how they want their own birth to go, but it can't hurt to have something written down to let the hospital staff know your wishes and desires going into the delivery suite. 

In the maternity notes you're given at your booking in appointment with the NHS, you're given a page of tick boxes - drugs, birth partner, home delivery, etc. It doesn't really go into much more detail than that, and I don't think it's adequate enough to answer specific issues that aren't uncommon in labor or delivery. So, we've made our own.

I used a birth plan template I found online (from BirthPlan.com - owned by Disney, how appropriate), and although it's American I think it's a good start to make our wishes clear to the midwives and doctors. I'm a bit apprehensive about introducing it to NHS staff - my husband is warning me to keep my expectations low because it's publicly funded healthcare. Still, I believe that making my wishes clear from the outset can make the whole process a bit more smooth and take off some of the pressure for my husband to remember every minute detail.

Ours is a two-pager, so I won't be posting the whole thing, but here's the overall jist:

Labor

• I want to be able to walk around and change position if needed during labor
• I am bringing my own music to play during labor

Pain Medication

• Before considering an epidural, I would like to try an injection of narcotic pain relief
• I would like to have a walking epidural, although I am not opposed to a traditional epidural if the situation warrants
• Unless it is absolutely medically necessary for the health of my baby, I do not wish to be put under general anesthesia

Cesarean

• Unless absolutely necessary, I would like to avoid a Cesarean
• I would like my husband present at all times if our baby requires a Cesarean delivery
• So I can view the birth, I would like the screen lowered just before delivery of our baby

Delivery

• I would like to be allowed to choose the position in which I give birth
• I would appreciate having the room lights turned low for the actual delivery
• I would like to have our baby placed on my chest immediately after delivery

Immediately After Delivery

• I do not want a routine injection of Pitocin after the delivery to aid in expelling the placenta
• I would like to have my husband cut the cord

I've left out the gnarly bits - I figure people don't need to know our nursing plans after delivery (we're doing it the way women have been doing it for millennia, just in case I get comments about how wonderful it is to breastfeed - we know!) or some of the more intimate issues that can happen with delivering an eight pound baby. I've also included our desire to take photos and video of the birth (not for public showing - yikes!).

All I've got left to do is re-pack our bags and decide between Route A or Route B to the hospital (yes, we've planned that). Let's get this party started already!

Labor Playlist

Sorry for all the birth-related posts. I might get back to SEM at some point in the next couple of months, but you'd probably not be surprised to find out that most of my days now revolve around what to expect in the next days (please, please, please) and weeks.

I've never been in labor before, so I don't really know what to expect - what is it going to feel like, how am I going to feel, when am I going to know when I'm in labor... 

One thing I do know is that I'd like to enjoy my own music, rather than rely on the NHS' version of calming and relaxing tunes. Thanks to a couple of iTunes gift certificates over the holidays, I'm well stocked with the latest (and not so latest) music to rock out (or tune out) to during labor. Again, I've not done this before, so I thought I'd completely geek out and put together three playlists depending on my mood. The last thing I want to do is throw my iPhone across the room in a fit of painful rage if the music isn't doing it for me.

Happy Music

A bit of an eclectic mix, ranging from James Taylor (Carolina on My Mind), Bubba Sparxxx (Deliverance, Comin' Round), Matisyahu (Jerusalem, One Day), The Doobie Brothers (Minute By Minute), Great Big Sea (Ordinary Day) and Journey (Don't Stop Believin'). I've got 51 songs on the list - iTunes tells me it's 3.3 hours long, so hopefully it'll be enough to go through most of labor (all you women are laughing like Nelson from the Simpsons right now, right?). Whatever, it's a pretty good all-star playlist of my favorite songs, even if Yedid Nefesh is mixed with Ghetto Superstar.

Laid Back

It might be that I need this to relax and ride through a contraction, or chill out after I get some pain relief. It's a much shorter playlist (only 26 songs and 1.7 hours), but I think it keeps the theme of blissing out quite tight. Artists that I've included are Sarah McLachlan (Blackbird, Homeless), Van Morrison (Behind the Ritual, Into the Mystic), Moshav (Shuva Hashem), Rickie Lee Jones (Running from Mercy) and Vonda Shepard (Maryland).

Pumped Up

I'm into rap. A lot. You're surprised. I know most of the lyrics from N.W.A.'s Straight Outta Compton album, and believe that Ice-T's O.G. is the definitive gangsta rap track for its generation. If I need a shot of "get through this", I'm treating this like a workout at the gym and putting on the best music to get my head around pushing myself through a wall. Dr. Dre (Still D.R.E., Forgot About Dre), Outkast (Rosa Parks, B.O.B., ATLiens), Jay-Z (Big Pimpin') and Jermaine Dupri (Money Ain't A Thang) are going to help me out if I need it. I've also included songs from Green Day (Basket Case), The Offspring (Pretty Fly) and Eve 6 (Inside Out) for a little late-90s inspiration. Again, it's my list and the NHS can politely accept that this is my idea of pain relief.

You're supposed to choose music that makes you happy, so I've tried to make a comprehensive list of endorphin-releasing tracks (even if that does mean mixing Y-Love with Eiffel 65). If all else fails, let's go for some coloratura soprano screams...

Still Pregnant, Still Waiting

It's funny, you know. My friends and family know me as a pretty web-savvy gal; I'm on Facebook, Twitter and I blog (although not as regularly as I would've liked to recently). My iPhone is permanently by my side, and I've spent a lot of time organizing my address book so that I can reach anyone I've known in the last decade or so in seconds.

Still, I'm getting phone calls and e-mails from very well-meaning and excited relatives and friends asking if I've a) had the baby b) gone into labor or c) had any feelings it was about to start. I'm not angry by any stretch, but seriously folks... we will let you know. It might surprise you, but we're waiting with bated breath for the arrival of our firstborn, too. We haven't forgotten, and we certainly won't forget to send an update on Facebook, Twitter or by phone call or text message for the following:

1. When I'm in labor.
2. When I've given birth.
3. All the details - gender, name, weight, length, hair color.
4. The first photo.
5. When we're heading home from the hospital.

Absent these updates, please assume that I've not yet gone into labor or had the baby. My due date is Saturday, January 16th, so asking me beforehand (especially when first babies are notoriously late) is a bit futile, no? :)

Happy New Year

Unless Baby Ash decides to make an appearance in the next twelve hours, I can guarantee we'll be having a 2010 baby. I'm bigger than a walrus at the moment, and my husband is being extremely supportive - especially at night when I'm sure all he wants to do is get an hour's worth of uninterrupted sleep. So ringing in 2010 will involve a dinner and non-alcoholic beverages, rather a subdued version of years past.

There's no point making top ten lists of the decade, the year or the millennium so far. To recap my decade in a nutshell, I went to university, I did an internship at the Welsh Assembly Government, I met my husband, I fell into search engine marketing, we moved to Canada, I married my husband, we moved to Ireland, we moved to England, we bought a house and I got pregnant. Not bad for a decade, eh?

Here's to all your resolutions, hopes and dreams for 2010. Happy New Year.

Persistence and Spelling

Really. It's staring you right in the face.

Kerstin Baker-Ash

It's not a hard name to spell - especially the two parts of the last name. So why is it so hard for people to learn?

Someone in the Toronto area seems to disregard spelling my first and married name correctly rather consistently. I'm not one for outing people on my blog, but I find it fascinating that this person visits nearly every day, spends a minute and a half on the site and always arrives after searching "kersten baker ashe":

When you're using Google Analytics on any site, you tend to look at the wider picture rather than granular, minute details. But if a big traffic driver to your site is a misspelling, don't overlook it. Brand names are often misspelled - it could be a typo or genuine ignorance of the correct way to spell your brand, but you need to cover all of your bases. 

Google frequently uses the "did you mean" more popular spelling in search results, negating the need to fully optimize your site (SEO-wise, at least) for your less informed or typo-prone customers. It's a crutch that's easily and freely used to cover a persistent misspeller, and you can largely rely on Google to direct people in the right direction if it's a common enough mistake. What about when you can't rely on Google's auto-correct benevolence to make sure your brand is covered?

Paid search. Yes, you'll have to pay. No, it won't cost you that much. Take a look at the traffic being driven to your site on brand terms. How are they spelled? What's the typical dwell time of a misspeller (in my experience, it's more than someone who has spelled it correctly)? How much is that customer worth to you in terms of repeat visits? Your boss and their ROI will appreciate investing in a couple of cheap, low traffic spelling mistakes.

Chances are, you're the only one that's going to be bidding on your list of misspells. In a world of less than wonderful business ethics, competitors often overlook the lucrative and cheap misspells in favor of brand coverage. So, maximize your brand reach and "all eyes are on you" potential by compiling a list and bidding on it. One thing to reinforce however, is that your brand is spelled a specific way; do not use Dynamic Keyword Insertion (DKI) because it makes your ad look cheap and hurried. Your customers are important to you - don't cheapen your brand by being lazy.

If your misspellers tend to spend more or engage with your site for longer, offer a bit of an incentive to them. Put your misspellings in a separate ad group or campaign, and create custom ads for what I affectionately call "monkey fingers". It doesn't have to be much; if you're saving 20% on the cost per conversion, offer your monkey fingers 5% off or free shipping. You won't create more misspellers by offering this ad, but you take the opportunity to show the customer you care about your business while reinforcing your brand and brand image.

It's also possible that my mystery searcher uses autofill - yours could too. Their persistence could just be laziness, but you still want to make sure you're reaching them when they're trying to engage with you.

To my mystery monkey fingers, I'd love to know what you'd like to see out of this blog. Are you looking for more information on search engine marketing? On Kerstin Baker-Ash? I'm sorry you're not always finding what you're looking for, but I'd be happy to discuss with you what it is that keeps you coming back, day after day, looking for updates.

I am the Walrus

At 7.5 months... I dread to think how much bigger I'm going to get before I finally pop.