Pre Pregnancy Prep: Fermented Cod Liver Oil

For a great summary on why you should take F-CLO, read this.

After reading the Nourishing Traditions Book of Baby and Childcare, it was clear I had to take fermented cod liver oil (I'll refer to it as F-CLO from here on in).  I conceived quicker than expected and was pregnant before the first shipment had arrived from Green Pasture, so I ended up taking it almost daily from five weeks through birth.  But for the next one, I will definitely start much earlier, since most likely I will be finishing breastfeeding when I start trying for baby #2, and I plan to take F-CLO throughout nursing.
Although others have said it, I would be the first to admit that it was not easy.

My parents tell me that when they were growing up, cod liver oil was still a staple for every child in a family that could afford it.  My mom hated even the capsules, while her sister would bite them open before swallowing because she loved it so much.  When he was a kid, my dad started by drinking teaspoons of it, then moved to drinking it right from the bottle because he found it so delicious.  But I never came into contact with the stuff until my pregnancy.  It's a shame that so many traditional foods that have been valued over the years seemed to have drifted to the wayside starting in the mid-20th century and almost dissapeared by the 80s, when I was growing up.  But it's nice to see that some people are still using them and that some of them, like kombucha, kefir, and beet kvass, are actually making a big comeback in places.

So I thought, how bad could it be?

Pretty bad.

If you are considering getting pregnant and thinking about taking F-CLO, start before you even try to conceive.  Get used to it before morning sickness sets in.  I was constantly nauseous from about week 7 through week 14 of my pregnancy.  I could barely keep down my usual foods, like eggs, ground beef, and even some cheeses.  So the burp-inducing, aftertaste-heavy, viscous stuff was a daily torture; my husband apologized every time he gave it to me and helplessly watched me suffer.  I'm really selling it, aren't I?

But here are a few tips I found to make it better:

Use an oral syringe.  F-CLO has a very strong smell that you might not find appealing.  The idea of putting a spoonful in my mouth, and therefore passing it under my nose, was just not going to happen.  So we found a large oral syringe that could hold 2 teaspoons, the recommended dose from Nourishing Traditions.  Most syringes only hold half of that; I suggest getting one that can deliver your dosage in one shot; you may not want to refill it after you've had one.  I found that putting the syringe as far back into my mouth without gagging limited the amount I tasted; please, don't try this if you are prone to choking!

Try different flavors.  I didn't like the mint flavor; the orange flavor was better for me.  Maybe plain would be the best, but we haven't had a chance to order it yet.  Figure out what works for you and don't write off the whole thing after one taste.  Maybe your significant other or family members will like the flavors you don't, like my husband and the mint.

Take with food.  If your stomach is full or at least not empty, you will burp less and therefore have less repeated tastes.  Try taking the F-CLO while eating something you like, but not something you love; I found that it temporarily ruined some dishes for me.

What you drink before and after affects the taste and aftertaste.  I thought at first that something with a strong flavor (like tea or decaf coffee) to wash it down would be great, but for me, it made it all the worse.  The best way I found was to take a big gulp of cold water before the F-CLO, to cleanse my mouth of any food particles so that the F-CLO wouldn't get absorbed into them and make the taste linger.  Then I shot back the F-CLO and immediately drink more cold water.  Have the glass of water ready and in front of you so you can do it quickly.  After the water was finished, I found that a glass of watered-down pineapple juice, with all its fancy enzymes, made the burping less unpleasant.  And I like pineapple juice, so it was a bit of a reward!

The burping subsides.  At first, you may have a lot of belching after your F-CLO, so much so that it tastes like multiple doses throughout the day.  But as your body gets used to digesting it, the repeating stops.  I've lapsed in taking my daily F-CLO for the last few months, mostly from the forgetfulness that comes with a newborn, but even now I can take my dose and not have it come back to haunt me.  Give it some time!

Other techniques that I did not try, but you may want to experiment with, include mixing the F-CLO into water or juice; taking smaller doses multiple times in the day; mixing Swedish bitters with water and drinking it in the same meal; or taking capsules (all ideas from Nourishing Traditions book).  

My son's birth story: Part 2 - Active Labor

When I was pregnant, I read a lot of birth stories and found them very helpful, so I thought I would share mine and maybe help someone else.  I wish I had written it down sooner now that I'm almost five months removed from it, but my husband and I have recounted it so many times to friends and new parents that we have met, I think I can put down all the most pertinent details.

To read about the events leading up to this, click here.

On Tuesday night, I finally understood what a real contraction was.  I could feel it coming well before it hit.  I felt miserable as it was happening.  I was very relieved when it was over.  I couldn't move or talk during them.  Lying down was intolerable, so I spent much of the night sitting up, catching a few Zs in between contractions.  The intervals wavered from an hour or more apart to eight minutes apart, but most averaged half an hour.

We called the doula and let her know the situation.  She told us she was ready to come whenever we wanted, but perhaps it would be the most effective when they started to become regular.  After a night of irregular, intense contractions, we all agreed that she should come by and evaluate in person.  She showed up in the early morning, around 7 AM, and I spent the next four hours laboring in my living room on an exercise ball.  The doula used acupressure on my lower back during contractions, and made sure I was resting during the intervals.  At some point, I started to feel a little numb and tingly on one side, so I called the midwife on duty and she said I might be hyperventilating, so take some deep breaths and see if it got better.  It did.  I continued laboring and drinking water.

Around 11 AM the accupressure started to be less effective and walking and leaning wasn't doing it anymore, so the doula thought I should take a shower.  The contractions were still all over the place, never getting near four minutes apart for at least an hour, which was the recommended rate for getting to the hospital.  I must have spent 45 minutes in the shower, sitting on an overturned wastepaper basket and a towel as a cushion.  Finally, the hot water ran out, even though we have a 80 gallon water heater!

At that point, the doula, my husband, and I evaluated my condition.  I wasn't sure, but I thought it might be time to push, and at that point, the doula estimated it might be time for the hospital, regardless of the contraction timing.  She felt if, my instinct was to push, we should listen to that above all else.  She ended up being right!

I held on to the passenger assist handle of my husband's car for dear life through each of the contractions, which suddenly started rolling on top of each other.  It was a short car ride to the hospital and I decided to go into the parking garage with my husband rather than be left at the curb.  I wanted to walk as much as possible, even if I had to be almost doubled-over in the process.  We got to the elevator and, while trying to decide whether to wait for the next elevator or try the stairs, my water really broke and the elevator arrived, so we went in without question.  I walked into the hospital, refusing wheel chairs because I wanted so badly to continue walking!  I stopped talking to people; I was fully in transition.

I checked into the maternity ward and had my required private interview with the nurse, who asked if I felt safe, if I was being abused, etc.  As soon as possible, I got onto a gurney and asked to be internally checked.  My birth plan stated I wanted as few internal exams as possible, so the midwife and nurses were hesitant to "waste" their exam if I wasn't ready to start pushing.  But once they checked me, they found I was 10 centimeters complete and quickly moved me to a birthing suite.

I started pushing.  I tried to squat for a while, but my legs were pretty weak after my night and morning of contractions.  The most comfortable position ended up being on my back with my legs up against the birthing bar, arms pulling back like I was on a rowing machine.  

I kept my eyes closed for most of my labor, and without my glasses on, I couldn't see much and stayed relaxed, not noticing what was going on around me.  My sister-in-law showed up at some point, since I had offered to let her be there and witness the birth.  It was important to me after reading that it could help her if she ever chose to have children.  But I had no idea she was there.  I barely knew anyone was there.  The midwife sat quietly at the foot of the bed and watched, my doula and the nurse monitored my pulse and told me when to push and when to rest.  I pushed for almost two hours and was getting close, when suddenly the nurse told me that the baby's heart rate was getting high and I would have to push it out soon or they would have to do an episiotomy.  I wanted to tear naturally rather than being cut, and with the idea that my baby was in danger, I reached deep down and pushed through the "ring of fire," as the nurse called it, and got my baby's head out in two more pushes, then one small push for his body.

Even though the midwives had thought he would be about seven pounds from the look of my belly, he ended up being 8 lbs, 8 oz, and very long and lean.  I attribute this to extra bone density from all the fermented cod liver oil I took as soon as I found out I was pregnant.

They put his body on my abdomen as soon as he was out and delayed his cord clamping and cutting until the blood had drained.  They told me he was a boy, since we chose not to know during my pregnancy.  After they cut the cord, a pediatrician checked his lungs since I was taking a medication that rarely cause persistent pulmonary hypertension.  But he was cleared and was put to my breast.  I couldn't stop saying "I love you" over and over, telling him he'd made such a big journey, and other ramblings as tears went down my cheeks.  I was in the afterbirth glow and didn't even care about the tearing from that "ring of fire".  The placenta delivered without a problem, complete and easily.  Then, the midwife suggested I take a shot of pitocin to help clot my blood as she sewed up my tearing.  I agreed; I was adamant to not have any pitocin during my labor, but now that my baby was safely out, it made sense to me to go with it and help the midwife fix me up quickly.

My son latched fairly well the first time and passed his meconium on my arm; even then I was ecstatic.  Soon enough, after I was stitched up and he didn't seem to want to nurse any longer, the nurses took him away to be cleaned up.

We refused the antibiotic ointment for his eyes, since I was and am free of chlamydia and gonorrhea, but we had to claim religious exemption.  How ridiculous that our state will not recognize a person's scientific research and informed choice, yet they have no problem recognizing someone's claim to a religious belief without any documentation.  For the record, my husband and I are both atheists and therefore have no religion, technically.  

My son's birth story: Part 1 - Pre-Labor

When I was pregnant, I read a lot of birth stories and found them very helpful, so I thought I would share mine and maybe help someone else.  I wish I had written it down sooner now that I'm almost five months removed from it, but my husband and I have recounted it so many times to friends and new parents that we have met, I think I can put down all the most pertinent details.

water, water, everywhere...

It all started on a Sunday night in February 2014.  We had just gotten through a holiday weekend with a full moon and a huge snowstorm, all of which made me extremely anxious.  But now that the snow had stopped and everyone seemed to be calmer around the city, I was more at ease.  My due date was on Wednesday, but since this was my first pregnancy, I expected to go past it.  Everyone I knew thought I would be later for some reason.

That night, my husband and I went to bed early, around 9:30, as we had been wont to do in the later stages of my pregnancy.  We had just moved houses two weeks before and everyday was exhausting as we continued to unpack and make our new house a home.  Only a few days before, we had assembled the bed so we weren't sleeping with the mattress directly on the floor.  As we watched a "Law and Order" rerun on his laptop, I started to drift off to sleep, only to be awoken moments later by a wet feeling.  It didn't feel like urination and I couldn't do anything to stop the flow.  I immediately told my sleepy husband who asked a number of questions trying to figure out what was going on.  Then we started to search online for answers, of course, and we texted my doula to give her a status report.  From our reports, she thought it could either be water breaking or heavy discharge.

Throughout my labor, the doula maintained that everything was our decision, but she phrased all of her advice as what she would do in our situation.  This is a very important part of her service, because she feels that, even though she is a registered nurse, her capacity as a doula is not to tell her clients what to do, but only help and guide to achieve their goals as they saw fit.  However, I chose to follow her lead since she had given birth four times without any interventions, including a breach!

So my doula stated that, if it were her, she would not call the midwives or hospital just yet, since they would order me to come in to be evaluated even though I had no contractions yet and no other issues, such as fever.  I took my temperature regularly, I made sure my baby was kicking regularly, and my husband monitored my constitution closely.  I soaked through a bath towel during the night.

Monday came and went with a few minor contractions spaced widely, some only as close as an hour apart.  My husband and I walked around a little, although the icy sidewalks impeded us.  I continued to leak slowly but had decided to wait after reading an article on Evidence Based Birth and after learning how it is only recently that policy has shifted (in the last ten years) from wait-and-see up to 72 hours after water breaking to immediate hospital admittance for evaluation.  I knew I did not want to go to the hospital any sooner than transition; that was the whole point of hiring a doula and I wanted to avoid being in the stressful hospital environment any longer than need be.

On Tuesday, I started to have more regular contractions, but they were still far apart and not very difficult.  I was prepared for some mean contractions, since my menstrual cramps had always been very intense and painful.  I took these as a chance to practice meditating through the pain and relaxing every other muscle in my body to focus my strength.  I must have looked a little crazy in the coffee shop my husband and I walked to, as I stopped in mid-sentence to shut my eyes and collect myself inwardly for a minute or two, only to come out the other side relaxed and relieved.

Then on Tuesday night, as we went to bed early, s*** got real.