the birth experience - one looooong blog

What an intense experience, all of this! It’s been 21 days – and I still can’t believe this little one is ours, that he came from my body (from our bodies) and he’s here, and here to stay. And I’m not just saying that because I’m sleep deprived, or because I’m having a hard time remembering anything that happened more than 5 minutes ago; we are still just completely and totally blown away by everything this little one has brought into our lives – and that includes the good (the great the amazing) and the um, errr… how do I say this nicely? – the challenging. I’ve been wanting to write about the birth and my/our labour experience since the event, so that we can look back and remember the details and the sequences and the little things that made the night, the day before and the day of… so here goes, finally.

First of all, I have to point out that this little one was prompt. The due date we were given in Japan was November 28th, and the due date we were given here was November 27th; he respected both predictions (very Japanese) and started his journey on the Saturday the 27th and finished on Sunday the 28th, making us both very happy that Mom didn’t have to be induced 10 days later. So, how did it begin? Well… I’m not totally sure what brought it all on, but here are some ideas. It could have been the intensity of watching Avatar in 3D at Imax on Thursday night (amazing movie but waaaaay too intense for me), or it could have been my Friday night big lights test-out-the-breast-pump idea – I was blown away that a few drops of MILK actually came out, ee! The nurse did, after all tell me that that was one of a few ways to encourage baby to begin his journey. Anyways, whatever it was got things going late on Friday night. We had a friend over for dinner, and I felt a few contractions (I thought they were contractions, but wasn’t completely sure) through the meal and after dinner. Nothing major, but I wondered…. So through the night I felt nothing, but Saturday was a different story. I kept Steve in the loop, but he still went in for practice – it was a clinic for kiddies I think? – on Saturday morning. Throughout the day the contractions continued, and we went through periods of time-it, keep-track of it all, but for the most part, things were random and sporadic, and the periods of regular 20-minutes apart contractions were thrown off by an hour here and an hour there of nothing. Which, of course, left us wondering, was this the real deal? I tried napping, we walked to Shoppers, and ordered pizza. We were back home from the dinner pick-up in time for the Leafs-Senators game that Steve had thought about going to a few weeks earlier (Pam and Bob axed that plan, asserting that it was too close to the due date – both of us were skeptical that he would arrive on time). Contractions started picking up after the game, but still, I wasn’t convinced – it has been almost 24 hours of the same-same, and I didn’t know what early labour felt like! Sooooo, I was still questioning, wondering. We decided to try to go to bed (no sleep for me), I took a shower, and then, close to 2:00, I woke Steve up; I think that at this point I was sure that this was the beginning of have-the-baby, and with stronger contractions, we decided to head for the hospital. We had a moment before we left – a huge hug and a this-is-it… a second to realize what was happening, that we were in the middle of it all, the middle of something special and exciting and life-changing; it was time (smiles!). We were leaving with two and would return with three.

I called my parents en route to what turned out to be a very deserted hospital; when we’ve been there before the elevators have been crammed and the hallways bustling and full – we were happy to be the only ones there (or so it seemed). Up to the desk we went and after I declared that I was in labour (!!) and answered a few questions, we were directed to an examination room. The contractions were picking up, and it felt like forever before a nurse arrived; she did an evaluation and then called in the doc. The news was this: I was fully effaced (hope this isn’t too much information), but only one centimetre dilated; “We won’t send you home” they said. You’d better not send us home is what I was thinking… and instead, at 3:30 we were sent to the early labour lounge to wait – for two hours. I was getting uncomfortable, and had a few pretty intense contractions, so decided to take the nurse up on her offer of something to help me relax, with the hopes of catching a few zzzzzs. Thankfully we were the only ones in there – I had full reign of a cushy, leathery black couch (Steve wondered just how many pregnant women had laboured and waited it out in the spot where I uncomfortably lay), and Steve tried to make himself comfortable in an old, lumpy recliner (of the sort with springs sticking out, further squashing his plans of sleep – my barfy contractions kept most of his attention). I made it through a series of make-me-want-to-puke contractions before calling for the nurse again to ask for a re-evaluation. A new nurse arrived, and told us – with attitude – that people were sent to the early labour lounge to wait for two hours… I had 30 minutes to go, and it would be best if I just waited it out. We were both a bit annoyed, but whatever, fine… we could wait, if that’s the way it was supposed to be. It turns out that this saved me from getting an epidural, so ? fine fine! Anyways, 5:30 rolled around and back into the assessment room we went and eeeeeek, I was six centimetres dilated – things were progressing!

So it was into labour and delivery we went; I walked, Steve followed with the bags, and we got set up in a big, mostly empty room. The contractions were getting horrible, and I knew that I was reaching my pain threshold – it was time to ask about the epidural. The nurse – who was very nonchalant – started getting things set up: she got an IV going (“Will this keep me hydrated?” I asked) and then checked to see if I’d made any progress The answer was yes, I had; she let me know that things were maybe a bit too far gone to reap the rewards of the epidural. There was a strong possibility, she said, that by the time it kicked in, it would be too late – the guy would have already made his arrival. So it was up to me, and after some indecision and a loaded question (would the pain get much worse?) I chose to just keep on keeping on, and do it without the epi. I think it was at this point that the nurse asked if I wanted gas, and I said ummm yes please! It wasn’t too long after this (I think) that I had the urge to push; so, another assessment by the nurse (nine centimetres), a “sure honey you can push if you want” and a super nonchalant “grab a leg” to Steve and we were in a new stage of labour. We were both kind of surprised that there weren’t more people – a doctor maybe? – in the room, and that the nurse wasn’t more acutely focused on me and my labour – she may as well have been reading the newspaper she was so calm and elsewhere. So I went from nine to nine and a half to nine and three quarters, and it was then that the doctor was called in. I was pushing and things were intense; all of a sudden there were two doctors (a resident and a doctor doctor, who asked for a gown), a student (witnessing her first delivery) and at least one nurse. The gown never arrived, and my water broke almost upon delivery, which could have – sorry again if this is too much information – doused the doc who was standing to the side, supervising. (He looked at Steve and said, calmly, “That is why I wanted the gown” – ick.) With a wet towel on my sweaty forehead I remember declaring “I can’t do this I can’t do this” thinking that it felt like it was physically impossible to continue doing what I was trying to do. I also remember feeling a little guilty about being so negative, but all the thoughts were gone by the next time-to-push feeling. Steve was great – I don’t remember exactly what he was saying or doing really (I know he had a leg hooked and was offering words of encouragement – you can do it you can you can you can) but it helped and worked. I asked if bebe was getting close, and the nurse said yes yes, touch his head do you want to touch his head? here reach down and touch his head – um, no, no thank you. And then, and then… it was push push rest push and he was here: 7:42 on Sunday, November 28th, 2010. Steve cried and they didn’t show him to me right away so I asked can I see him can I see him… and then Steve cut the umbilical cord and he was up on my chest and we were parents! Birth had happened – painful, magical, miraculous… and he was healthy and here and it was over… it was beginning.

I spent the next two days in the hospital, and then home we went with Hendrik on Tuesday morning. And here we are now, almost one month old and about to celebrate a first Christmas. I couldn’t ask for anything more – with health, love and happiness, and a family of three, I have more than I could have ever imagined…