Grace's Birth Story

I have been an extremely delinquent blogger - mostly because I feel like my life isn't all that interesting.  I've finally gotten around to writing down my newest daughter's birth story.  Here's how she came into the world...

Friday night, September 21^st, I was lying in bed after a long week at work, reading the third book in the Mistborn Trilogy.  All of a sudden, I felt a pop and a small gush.  Oh crap!  My water broke!  My little mistborn was on her way – two weeks early.  So I quickly rolled out of bed and took the two steps into our ensuite bathroom.  I threw a towel on the floor while fluid continued to leak, eventually sitting on the toilet for a bit.  I realized my heavy-duty pads for such an occasion were packed in my hospital bag in the nursery.  So I fashioned a loincloth out of a towel and waddled to the baby’s room to get supplies.  Once that was taken care of, I started randomly throwing things into a backpack since I hadn’t fully packed for the hospital yet, never expecting that this baby would arrive early.

I called my midwife first.  She was a student midwife so once I explained everything to her (water had broken but no contractions – AKA PROM – Premature Rupture of Membranes) she had to confer with her supervisor.  Unfortunately, my regular midwife wasn’t on duty for the weekend, so the student conferred with another senior midwife.  She called me and we decided to relax until the morning, then possibly head in to the hospital.  We’d head in sooner if contractions started.  Since this was my third baby, there was some concern that things could happen fast.  I’d unfortunately tested group B strep positive a few weeks prior, so I knew I’d have to get a round of antibiotics while in labour.  Once the water breaks, there’s an increased risk of infection so I was on the clock to get the baby out.

My next phone call was to my mom to let her know what had happened and that she was on standby to come over to watch my other two children.  The funny thing is that I talked to her earlier that evening and mentioned that I had felt some minor contraction-like twinges while on the bus to and from work that day.  But I figured it was nothing.  After the phone call to let her know my water had broken, she called me back a few minutes later to let me know that she and my dad decided they’d just come to stay over right away rather than waiting for a phone call.  This made a lot of sense since it was around 11:30 and a foggy night so it would be better to not have to wake them up with a frantic phone call at some point during the night.

The next call was to my husband.  He was working security at the Russell Peters show at a local venue.  I called his work first but he’d already left.  Turns out he’d gone for drinks with some coworkers, so I called his cell phone.  When I told him my water had broken he said, “You’re kidding, right?”  Neither of us was prepared for an early baby.  I told him to relax and enjoy his beer and nachos since there was no rush for him to come home.

I finished packing my hospital bag and waited for my parents to arrive.  They got to the house and settled in and my husband was home not too long after.  We went to bed and I was woken up at around 3 a.m. with contractions.  They were very mild but I started timing them with the contraction timer app on my iPad.  I did that from about 3 until 4:30, at which point my husband woke up and realized what I was doing.  He looked at the app and said, “We should probably get moving.”  Contractions were anywhere from 10 to 4 minutes apart.  So we got up, showered, got the car packed.  I called the midwives and we decided to meet at the hospital at 6.  I had a snack (peanut butter and jam sandwich and a glass of milk) and then we were off.  My parents slept in our bed so that the kids wouldn’t find our bedroom empty when they woke up.

The ride to the hospital wasn’t too bad since contractions were still pretty mild.  We stopped at Tim Horton’s on the way so that my husband could get a coffee.  It was very quiet out on the roads since it was so early on a Saturday morning.  The hospital was very quiet too and we got checked in quickly.  My midwife met us at reception and we got settled in our room.  Her student had already set the room up.  We talked some more about the risk of infection due to PROM and the student checked to see how much I had progressed.  Only 3 cm, but it was a start.  My husband and I went for a walk to try and get things going and I was contracting every 3 to 5 minutes.  Again, contractions were very mild, so I would just stop walking and breathe through each one.

When we got back to the room after our walk, the midwives were really pushing to have my labour augmented with synthetic oxytocin because of the infection risk.  I was sort of surprised by this approach since I thought the midwives would have more of a “wait and see” attitude.  They called in the obstetrician on duty because they needed him to sign off on the synthetic oxytocin.  He explained the reasons for the augmentation and the risks.  My husband and I are pretty risk-averse and since both the ob and the midwives were pushing for the augmentation, I agreed to it.  I was a bit concerned that I wouldn’t be able to handle contractions with the synthetic oxytocin because I’d had the same stuff when my labour was induced with my son.  I found the contractions excruciatingly painful and hard to manage that time.  I really wanted to have a natural, drug-free birth this time around.  The senior midwife didn’t seem to think it would be that bad, so I decided to roll with it.

And she was right.  The oxytocin drip was started at around 9 in the morning, which got the contractions going more regularly.  I had practiced hypnobirthing techniques during my pregnancy and done some relaxation exercises, so I felt more prepared to cope with the pain and pressure of contractions.  I did get a bit teary soon after the drip was started, but not because I was in pain.  I was just so shocked that everything was happening so fast.  My husband’s the only one who noticed, though.  My labour passed in a relatively boring fashion.  I didn’t really want anyone touching me or talking during contractions.  I would just close my eyes and visualize the baby moving down or a flower blooming and reframe the pain as pressure.  I was able to relax my whole body with some of the techniques I’d practiced.  I took deep breaths and imagined that I was breathing the baby down.  It worked fabulously, much to my shock (and I think everyone else’s too).  We talked in between contractions and I drank juice and had some ice chips too.  Thankfully, transition only lasted for about 5 or 6 intense contractions, which I was still able to calmly breathe through.  Then something changed and I felt like I was ready to push.

With hypnobirthing, they teach you to breathe the baby down, not push.  I should mention that I was too cheap to pay for hypnobirthing classes ($500 – ouch!) so I just read the book twice and practiced the exercises.  The actual delivery phase is where I probably would have benefited from classes, because I couldn’t quite figure out how to breathe the baby out.  After trying to just breathe through a few of the contractions at this point, I realized I wasn’t being all that productive, so I decided to just push, with some urging from the student midwife.  All of my calm, zen behaviour during labour went out the window and I essentially roared her out in 15 minutes.  Feeling her crowning was a shock and intense. But it made me feel so powerful and Grace was out in a flash.  The student midwife put her right on my chest as soon as she was out.  I couldn’t believe she was here and so perfect!  We delayed cord clamping until it stopped pulsing and I got to clean the thick layer of vernix off her body.  I delivered the placenta not long after and just held Grace close to me while the midwives stitched up some minor tearing.  Interestingly (and this is actually a bit scary) there was a true knot in her umbilical cord.  Thankfully it never tightened.  The student midwife gave me a detailed lesson on all the parts of the placenta, which was really neat.  She asked me if I wanted to take the placenta home with me but I declined.

My husband got me a snack and I cleaned myself up and got dressed.  The midwives did Grace’s newborn exam then daddy dressed her.  She was 8 lbs, 14 oz. And 22 inches long. We discovered that the newborn size hats would absolutely not fit on her giant head.  So we took Grace home in the stretchy hospital hat.  We got her into the car seat and not long after, the midwives got a call to attend another birth!  I was wheeled out to the car in a wheelchair with Grace in the car seat on my lap.  I gave the midwives each a big hug and thanked them for such a great experience.  Grace was born at 1:49 p.m. on Saturday September 22, 2012, and we were home by 5:00 p.m.  I cried a little bit on the way home, mostly because everything happened so fast and I just couldn’t believe we were on our way home with our perfect little bundle.  At home, my other two kids were so excited to meet their new baby sister and they had made a welcome sign for the front door.  They also picked out some flowers for me, which was very sweet.  My parents were also very excited to meet her and everyone crowded around the car seat for about 10 minutes when we first walked in.  My mom cooked a beautiful dinner of pork tenderloin, roasted pears, potatoes, and green beans.  I felt so happy and loved and I can’t express how wonderful it was to be home so quickly.

Life with Grace has been great.  Overall, she's very mellow and she nurses like a champ.  She gets a bit cranky during baths and diaper changes, or if I'm too slow when she wants to be fed, but she's already sleeping for at least a 6 hour stretch at night.  Life is good.  

I'm a Love Bug!

Seems a bit of a strange thing to get excited about, doesn't it? But I'll admit - getting organized excites me. I recently bought a storage ottoman for our front entrance area to store all of the random mittens and hats floating around, and for the past two weeks have been gazing at it lovingly. I feel like calling in sick to work when the Ikea catalogue arrives, so I can have a few private hours to flip through the pages alone, in peace and quiet.

Basically, anything that helps me to be better organized excites me, so I was very happy to discover http://www.lovablelabels.ca Lovable Labels makes durable, personalized labels of all sorts. Labels for clothing, sippy cups, zippers on coats/bags/pencil cases, shoes, and even household labels for things like garbage bins and recycling boxes, just to name a few. I'm really impressed with the quality and durability of this product, so I use it to help keep all of Sunshine and the Duke's stuff organized. Amazingly, the labels are dishwasher, microwave, and washer and dryer safe. So you can put your child's personalized label on his or her sippy cup, throw it in the dishwasher, and the label will still be intact. The labels come in cute colours and you can choose a graphic to go beside your child's name. I chose a magic wand for Sunshine, and fire engines for the Duke.

I can also attest to the functionality and durability of these labels. We still have all of our mittens and hats that we bought for this winter, for both kids, despite shlepping all of their stuff to both daycare and school. The shoe labels are still in their shoes, the press and stick clothing dots still in their hats, mittens, and snowpants. My kids both have Sigg water bottles that have been hand-washed countless times, and the labels are still there with very little wear. We had previous issues with things being taken from daycare. I don't want to say "stolen" because I know sometimes things can get a bit crazy at daycare drop-off (maybe dad is doing the pick-up instead of mom and just grabs something that looks like it might belong to his kid). In the past, we had a pair of brand-new purple Dora boots taken from daycare that never turned up again. It was partly my fault for not putting Sunshine's name in them (rookie mistake). I've learned my lesson and now label EVERYTHING. When the kids had a pajama party at daycare, I even labelled their blankies and stuffed animals. i wasn't taking any chances that their precious lovies get lost!

When I became a Love Bug, Lovable Labels sent me some labels of my own too. I've got a lovely pink one on my water bottle that I keep at work, and a green one on the back of my Blackberry. I even put labels in my combat boots! I was thinking how helpful the labels would've been for me on basic training (they make you label everything). Maybe if Lovable Labels creates army, navy, air force graphics they could have a monopoly on basic training labels! LOL. My kids haven't been to summer camp yet, but I think the labels would be perfect for that too.

So if I've piqued your interest in Lovable Labels and you decide to order some, I have a coupon code so you can get 10% off. Just enter ERINMLB1 at checkout and the discount will be applied to your order. The code is valid until December 15th, 2011. Happy label shopping!

Delinquent Blogger

Well, here it is, already March and I haven't followed through with my News Years resolution: to be a better blogger. It seems like other activities are taking precedence (*cough* TV watching *cough*). So I figure, baby steps. Today's blog entry will be short and sweet to help me get my groove back. Hopefully I'll get into the weekly blogging now that I've broken the ice.

The fog is lifting

I hesitate to blog about this particular topic for fear that typing this out will change things. So I'm knocking lots of wood while I type here. Duke, my terrible sleeper, high-needs baby seems to have turned a corner. I believe we're on night 5 of him sleeping through the night (from about 7:30 p.m. until 7 a.m.). I feel like a new woman. Who needs to win the lottery when you can get a high like this?!

It's like something clicked and he finally realizes that sleep is a good thing. He's napping better during the day too. I don't know if I should hold out hope that this will be a continuing trend, but I sure hope it is. If not, I'll enjoy it while I can.

I've been reflecting on Duke's first 9 months of life and feeling a bit guilty. So many of my memories are of being exhausted and frustrated with him because he only wanted to be held and/or because he wouldn't sleep. I really do feel like the first few months of his little life were spent with a fog around me. While it's nice to feel like myself again, I'm a bit sad that my recollections of his life so far aren't more joyful.

There is joy, though. The best thing I did was join a local moms group. It was hard for me, since I'm an introvert. I considered just walking right by the group of moms I saw at the first event I attended. But I sucked it up because I knew I had to do this for myself and for my kids. This group of caring, supportive moms has been a lifesaver to me. Just being able to talk to other adults, get out of the house for some fresh air (in the warmer months), and keep the kids entertained with new activities has saved my sanity. I don't know what I'd do without them.

Reflection on 2009

I'm finally getting a chance to sit down and reflect on the past year. We had a bout of some sort of gastro illness blow through our house just after Christmas, but things seem to be getting back to normal now.

2009 has been a really, truly, great, blessed year for our family. With the birth of our son, Duke, we welcomed a new, perfect little being into our lives. It was a wake-up call for me too, since life with Duke has been....challenging, to say the least. I think it was karmic justice for my "first time parent arrogance." There have been a lot of tears - both from me and from Duke, frustration, fatigue, and other challenges. But there's also been joy, wonder, and a feeling deep down that our family is now complete.

Another huge change that happened this year was the Colonel quit his job. It sounds crazy, given the economy and the fact that we have a young family, but it has been one of the best decisions of our lives. The Colonel is a hard worker, probably with one of the strongest work ethics of anyone I've ever met, so this was a major decision for him. He's a student now, and we have a lot less money, but our relationship has never been better. He went from working about 60 hours/week to going to school for approximately 20 hours/week. Having him around, especially with the sleeping challenges we've had with Duke, has been a lifesaver! I'm so proud to see him excel in school and to be motivated to do well in his program.

We have very little disposable income now, but we're so much happier. We simplified this Christmas and stuck to a strict budget, plus made a few things by hand for the kids and it just felt...right. Being creative is something that was really missing in my life, so it feels good to have that as an outlet.

I wouldn't have believed anyone who told me we would be happier with less, but we really are. I feel like my marriage is stronger and that life is just generally more balanced these days.

Just to brag, here are some pictures of our handmade gifts for the kids. First, Duke's set of wooden blocks:



And Sunshine's felt food:

woman/second-class citizen

This blog post is a rant about my gym. I won't mention it by name, but it's a big chain that I suspect has a bad reputation already. My gym is billed as having a special "Women Only" separate gym, with a private entrance; there's also a huge main gym. Well the women's gym is a joke! More like a storage area than an actual gym, where they store all the shitty equipment that doesn't look as nice in the main gym area. Ancient treadmills that don't always work, a mish-mash of dumbells, weight machines with the keys jammed in the weight stacks, dim lighting, cramped, just a generally unpleasant space.

I like using free weights in my workout, but the dumbell selection is laughable. One set of 10 pounds, one set of 8 pounds, and the rest are really heavy - like 40 pounds plus! I don't know a lot of women who curl 40 pounds! I noticed a sign above the water fountain stating that bags and purses are not allowed in the gym area - no exceptions. I thought that was a bit weird - maybe they were a tripping hazard? My sister-in-law told me it's because people steal dumbell sets. How ridiculous is that!? So I guess the gym doesn't bother re-stocking the dumbells once they're stolen.

I went in the women's gym the other day and one of the TVs was just BLARING. Thankfully I had my iPod, but even that couldn't drown out the loud TV. ANd there was no way to turn it down/off, since they're up so high. I ignored it and went about my business, finished my workout and went to use the hand sanitizer dispenser. Empty. Weird as I hadn't been to the gym in three weeks and it was empty last time too. Then I went to wipe down one of the weight machines I was using. No paper towels. Lovely. How nice to see that the gym staff care enough about their female clientele to actually - I don't know - maybe LOOK INTO the women's area once in awhile.

I went to the front desk and voiced my complaints. I felt a bit bad for letting my complaints accumulate and laying them all on the poor girl working at the time, but she was apologetic and said she'd look into it. But since then, I've pretty much abandoned the women's area and started working out in the main gym. Snazzy treadmills, new cardio machines, lots of TVs, and plenty of breathing room. I'd been using the women's area to spare the public the agony of seeing my post-partum ass-jiggle, but now I'm saying, "Screw it!" and letting my badoink-a-doink bounce freely as I jog on the treadmill. I'm thankful for shows like The Biggest Loser that have made it okay for fat people to work out.

Eating so much crow...

that I have stinky crow-farts.

When my daughter was a baby, she was the most chill, easygoing little thing. She would sit happily in her bouncy chair while I did my chores or surfed the Internet, then she would fall asleep for an hour or two in it. When she outgrew the bouncy chair, I was able to nurse her to sleep in the side-lying position. She would pass out and I would transfer her to her crib for naps and for bedtime. When she would wake in the night, I'd also feed her in our bed in the side-lying position and she would fall asleep snuggled up next to me. Those were blissful days and I thought my easygoing baby was a result of my stellar parenting abilities and because I did everything "right."

But then, Duke was born and I realized that truly, every baby is different. This child of mine seems to have a serious aversion to sleep and it is crazy-making. I can't imagine anything more infuriating than spending almost an hour nursing and rocking a baby to sleep, only to put him down in his crib and have him pop his head up like a darn prairie dog! Repeat four to five times. Never before have I felt such a strong desire to put my fist through a wall. And anyone who knows me knows that's completely out of character. I'm a lot like my first baby: relaxed, calm, laidback, easygoing, etc. How can such a tiny human being have the ability to drive me so far up the wall?

So, eating crow. I always considered letting babies cry-it-out to be extremely cruel, but I'll admit that I've considered it as a coping mechanism for dealing with Duke's sleeping...challenges. One day, after he repeated the above-mentioned routine several times, in my sleep-deprived and tearful state, I said to myself, "Forget it! He can cry himself to sleep!" But no. Duke doesn't cry himself to sleep. He just gets himself more and more worked up. So that's out. I've started co-sleeping with him at night because it's easier to have him in bed with me than to stumble bleary-eyed into his room four times a night. I originally didn't have him sleep in our bed because he's such a puker. But I'll take sleeping in a bit of baby puke if it means more sleep for me!

I also remember thinking it was crazy when people would ask for baby advice and say, "My baby doesn't like x,y,z." I would sort of scoff to myself, wondering what they meant. Take swaddling for example. Sunshine loved to be swaddled early on in her life. So if someone said they were having a hard time getting their newborn to sleep, I'd say, "Well have you tried swaddling." When they would reply, "No, my baby hates to be swaddled," my inner Judgy McCriticalpants would assume they were doing it wrong. But I now know how wrong I was. Duke HATED being swaddled and would bust out of the swaddle no matter what I tried.

So perhaps this is some sort of karmic payback for being so self-righteous. Who knows? But if anyone can send some sleep vibes out to the universe for Duke, that would be nice. I promise I've learned my lesson.