A Labour of Love: A Most Miraculous Birth Story

A quick labour.

A snow storm.

A new, hard to find development.

These all added up for a very crazy birth story.

On February 27th, our newest daughter came to meet us, in the most intimate of circumstances.

**I will have to add a disclaimer: there may be details in this story (and possibly photos when I get around to them) that may be too much information for most people reading this blog.

However, if you are a medical enthusiast, keep reading.

A Labour of Love: Part One, The Wait

Jayden came 2 weeks early with a gush of water that soaked my king sized bed.

Jackson came around the due date, but contractions (though they were 1-2 minutes apart right off the bat) felt more like a runner’s stitch on one side. Then he barreled down the birth canal in under 3 hours.

Avery had the most normal labour, but came “officially” a week late and narrowly missed induction by 6 hours. Her timing of 2 am made whisking the boys away a little traumatic.

So, it is no wonder that for the last 4-6 weeks of pregnancy, I am a stress case. Never knowing if I can leave home, or even go to the bathroom without popping a baby out can really drive an already hormonally crazy pregnant lady to insanity. Add to that the fact that I get some hard contractions that run 2-4 minutes apart for an hour every couple of days and have my body splitting apart and in agony and you’ve got one stressed momma.

This time around, I was a little more relaxed. Remembering back to the traumatic pain of delivering a 9lbs baby with a very large head last time, and the horrible pain and agony of carrying Jackson around those last few weeks, I was really hoping for another “sneaker” baby like Jayden.

I wished my water would break. I wished I’d have high blood pressure . . . or anything else that would indicate the need for an early induction. I even kept track of storm systems and remained hopeful that something might trigger an early birth.

“I just don’t want to go to my due date and push out another 9 lbs baby.” I confessed to my midwife last Thursday. “But, it seems as though I am too healthy and compared to the other babies, though I’m now in enough pain, I’m not hormonal enough to think it might be happening soon.”

I hobbled off to lay like a beached whale in bed for a few days and tried to make the most of the last few weeks with my three kids.

A Labour of Love: Part Two, Is This It?

You would think that by the time you had your fourth baby you could decipher when you are going into labour.

Well, perhaps it would be easier if you didn’t have strong contractions through out the few weeks before delivery.

Jackson and Avery both followed a similar pattern. Intense pain of some kind, happening about every 1-2 minutes and the loss of the plug about an hour in were sure signs that all things were a “go.”

However, it also gave me about an hour to get child care, get myself to a safe place, ready to deliver a baby before I became completely incapacitated.

This time around, contractions started about 6-8 minutes apart, then came to 3 minutes apart and lasting about 60 seconds. They spaced out to 5 minutes and then 4 minutes. I watched for about an hour.

The timing was definitely off. There was no plug. However, when the contractions came, they definitely made me take notice.

I went to wake Brad up at 7 am and suggested that we skip going skiing but rather have his parents come grab the kids because I think that the baby was coming.

On the phone with the midwife, I was unsure. Labour seemed to be taking longer than usual, it was not characteristic, and as I easily breezed through talking through contractions that now were fainter and farther apart, I was really regretting calling anyone for this “false alarm.”

As time wore on, and I began getting the room ready for a home birth and Brad loaded the kids up, it became very apparent that yes, this was it. Certainly Brad saw the urgency as he came to check on me and found me keeled over on the floor, chewing on a wet face cloth.

A Labour of Love: Part Three, Stay or Go?

We sat in the room for a few minutes, trying to figure out whether we should stay at home or try to make it to the hospital.

Another call to the midwife let us know that she was about 40 minutes away still, but giving the blizzard outside of our window (and the now very intense pain and pressure I was experiencing) made the decision even harder.

I knew that at this point I had about 30 minutes, and the time to the hospital under normal conditions was about 20 minutes. Add the blizzard conditions and the stage of labour that I was in and it made for a dangerous commute.

Flashbacks to Jackson’s birth ran through my mind. I didn’t feel that the intense pain of transition while sitting in a car, running red lights to try to make it to the hospital was not a great combination when added to poor driving conditions and large hills. Not to mention that it would take at least 25-30 minutes to get to the door of the hospital. That didn’t allow for any time to find a bed to pop a baby out. With Jackson that was even more traumatic than the drive . . . as we wheeled into room after room that was full with other labouring women.

No, we would have to wait things out at home, hoping that the midwife would arrive quickly, or at least the paramedics.

In the meantime, I suggested that Brad get his sister, Megan, who was a labour and delivery nurse on the phone.

A Labour of Love: Part Four, Dr. Dad

For our first child, I enrolled us in some Bradley Natural Birthing classes. Brad didn’t seem to care too much to study the material during the course. However, when we landed in the hospital with PROM, he brought the book along and crammed all night.

Apparently he retained a lot, because for Jackson’s birth we barely made it to the hospital in time to push him out. There was a midwife who managed to make it, but she seemed a bit flustered and Brad had to prompt her for the various steps of delivery.

For Avery’s birth, we figured it would be best to avoid the hospital altogether and just have midwives come to our house.

That was the plan for this one too, but we took it one step farther. Since we got rid of the hospital for the last baby, why not get rid of any medical professionals altogether?

Well, maybe not. But with the storm and lack of midwives or paramedics, I suggested that maybe we get Brad’s sister, Megan, a nurse in labour and delivery on the phone because he just might have to deliver this baby.

Fortunately, Megan hadn’t gone on her shift yet for the day. “How far apart are the contractions?” she asked. “You could try to slow the contractions down in a warm bath.” She suggested.

Clearly, I had not been timing things anymore and feeling the familiar intense pain and pressure, I knew that we were on the downhill side of transition.

“It’s not a matter of timing, it’s now a question of how much pressure I’m feeling.”

Obviously, trying to figure out where a woman is in labour stages over the phone is pretty tricky, but pressure was a sign that things were pretty far along.

After determining that I was about 9 cm and Meg gave the go ahead to push.

In retrospect, I probably could have pushed a lot earlier, but I think I was hoping I could hold it in until a paramedic showed up.

I must admit, it really did feel so much better to push. And, with Megan on speaker phone on the cell and the paramedics on speaker on the home phone, we began to deliver the baby.

As I pushed the baby’s head out, Brad saw the cord wrapped around the neck. Rather worried, he gave instructions to just keep pushing.

With one very long push, out flew the baby’s head and entire body. In spite of Megan’s warnings of the slipperiness of newborns, Brad barely caught it in a towel.

Up the baby came to my chest to get warm and dry.

Megan sat on the other line, insisting that she needed to hear more of a cry from the baby. We did our best to stimulate a cry and got one out, but I’m sure this bruised little baby was pretty shell-shocked.

A Labour of Love: Part Five, Improvisation

Brad followed Megan’s prompts to deliver the placenta and everything seemed to go smoothly.

The paramedics suggested that he find some clean shoe laces and use them to “clamp the cord” four inches from the baby’s navel.

Brad left the room to find my tennis shoes and stole the laces. Once the cord had blanched, he ran our kitchen sheers under hot water and finished cutting the cord.

No, this wasn’t the most sterile of methods, but it was all we had to work with.

About 5 minutes later, the police arrived. Unable to help with anything, we had them man the phones and pass out directions to the paramedics and midwife.

10 minutes later, both had arrived. The paramedics and police were sent on their way and the midwife came in to check everything out.

A Labour of Love: Part Six, Surprise! It’s A . . .

I’m one who goes through crazy nesting. So, waiting to find out the gender at the time of birth is hard for me. I go crazy if I’m seven months pregnant and I don’t have 6 months worth of baby clothing ready to go in a dresser.

For this baby, we were unable to find out the gender at the 20 week ultrasound. Fortunately, all the stress of the new house helped take my mind off the fact that I didn’t have anything ready for baby.

However, we were very excited to find out the gender at the birth. Everyone told us how thrilling it was to push and then find out the sex; how it gave them extra motivation.

I must admit, motivation to get the baby out for this one was not centered around finding out the gender. And, with all the commotion, it was about 10 minutes after the baby was born, when we were calling it a “he,” “she,” and “the baby” that we realized no one had checked to see the gender.

I took a quick peak and announced, “It’s a girl!”

We were both pretty excited to find out we had another daughter. We have lots of great girl clothing that needs to be reused, and Avery would love to have a little playmate to bake cupcakes with.

A Labour of Love: Part Seven, Trauma

Once the midwife arrived, more drama ensued.

The baby had checked out well . . . and apgar scores that were forgotten by us, we assigned based on what we could remember.

But, these midwives were pretty scared that I would bleed to death because of the speed of delivery and so they began to poke with oxytocin and when that didn’t work, ergonot. Still unsatisfied, an IV (still cold from the cold car) was started and talk about whether we needed to move to the hospital.

Things took a turn for the worst when the IV was lowered and blood began running from my arm to the saline solution. And then still worse when they discovered that the cold solution had caused my blood to thicken and clog the needle.

Solutions were pumped into my arm to try and remove the clot . . . and I was seriously ready to just drive to the hospital myself.

Finally, they gave up on the IV and within a few hours everyone had cleared out.

We hadn’t really had any time to process what had happened this day. We hadn’t even thought about naming our little daughter.

A Labour of Love: Part Eight, Recovery

I have learned that labour hurts like heck, whether it’s in a hospital, car, or at home. Recovery though is so much nicer at home, especially in Canada where you have 4 women to a room . . . or pay $300 a night to be bothered by nurses and eat gross hospital food.

Recovery was great at home. After a quick call to CAA to get our car unstuck from the snow bank, Brad ran out to pick up some fruit and chocolate dip, cinnamon rolls, and Subway sandwiches. SO much better than hospital food.

And my bed, with all the comfy pillows was more luxurious than any hospital bed.

Yes, recovery was fantastic. In so much that it makes everything else that happened so insignificant that I'd be willing to do it all over again in a heart beat.

(Thankfully, Mother Nature provides some crazy after pains--similar to those of labour--that make you think twice.)

A Labour of Love: Part Nine, Blessings

During the quiet time we had through the rest of the day, we were able to reflect on how blessed we were.

First of all, that labour started early enough on a day when Brad was home—and before we had piled in a car to go skiing. (I think about how much harder it would have been to deliver the baby on my own with just Avery at home. Looking back, I’m so lucky that ALL of our kids have come through the night or early morning when Brad was around.)

Secondly, that we had a small baby. How much harder would it have been with another 9 lbs baby?

Third, that the delivery was smooth. As I read over the midwives’ report and read over maternal death, still birth, resuscitation, any of a number of problems that could have occurred, we were truly blessed that none of these happened for us.

Fourth, that Megan was off shift and able to help. She was a great coach for Brad and made her instructions very concise and clear.

Both mom and baby are healthy and are doing very well, and hopefully we’ll continue to do so.

Overexposed

Most definitely.

But, since it has been SO long since I've really done any creative sessions with my kids, can you blame me?

Unless you are a grandmother of Avery's (or some crazy stalker of hers), you will be relieved to hear that these are the last in this enchanted series. At least the last that I'll be posting. ;)

Sleepless

We have a problem.

Our little Angel by day, turns to a maniac at naptime and night time.

Refusing to stay in her bed, she gets out of her room and sneaks into bed with mom and dad.

If we "lock her in her room," she bangs and pounds on the door for hours . . . or until certain other punishments come her way.

And even then, when left again, she pounds on her door again.

It can go on for over an hour until her weary mother gets tired and sleeps beside her until she is finally sound asleep. Until midnight, and three am . . . when the charade starts all over again.

This is really not a good time for these antics to be occuring. Especially when sleep escapes me already . . . and in a few short weeks I'll have someone else keeping me company all night long.

Suggestions? . . .

Spreading Her Wings

Our little Princess loves the wings that grandma got her for Christmas.

She will request to have them on often and jump off beds and chairs in an attempt to catch flight.

And, if the wings aren't readily available, she is more than happy to find a plastic grocery bag and demand help threading her arms through the handles.

Getting Back In The Saddle

After a long hiatus from the camera, I've decided it is time to pick it up again. Or maybe it was due to a big nudge from a grandchild deprived grandma.

(It is also because I've grown tired of the boring pictures that I am limited to with a point and shoot.)

Whatever the reason, it helps to pass the time waiting for baby . . . especially since we're snowed in these days anyway. (It's not exactly an ideal week weather-wise for a quick delivery . . . and baby, you'd better be quick. And small. No more 9 pounders!)

And guess what? I had SO much fun! I remember why I love photography.

So, stay tuned . . . more cute shots from this shoot to come. And as a bonus they will serve as great artwork for a certain little princess' room.

Hurry Baby, Hurry!

Just last Friday the midwife came over for a home visit.

After spending the last week very much restless and tired of this whole pregnancy thing, I was hoping that she would find something wrong with me.

Anything that would warrant an early induction was fine by me. A very large baby. Diabetes? High blood pressure?? Ruptured membrane? I was game for anything. Really.

So I could stop trying to squeeze into my tight maternity clothing.

So I could finally fit into my boots and shoes--and not have to wear flip flops to church. In the snow.

So I could stop watching the scale fly upwards. It's like my body becomes a magnet for weight at this point. A couple of pounds a week is not unusual.

So I could stop having all these contractions, two minutes apart, for an hour or so at a time.

So I could stop worrying about when it is going to happen and how I'm going to arrange care for my kids and find a place to birth. In the hour that I usually have from when I know I'm in labour to when the baby pops out. (Talk about stress!)

Sadly, I have tested negative for everything and have incredibly great blood pressure.

And, as I commented to the midwife, I was not in near enough pain as I had been for weeks before Jackson or Avery came . . . nor was I as crazy with emotions yet to feel like this baby was coming any time soon.

My only hope was for a random rupture of membranes like what happened with Jayden. (There is a snow storm right now, so maybe it's still in my future.)

However, at midnight, strongish contractions came on, much like I had with Jackson, every two minutes, and chills. All signs pointed to the possibility of it being time. If it hadn't been so late, I would have called the midwives to give them a head's up. But I waited a bit . . . and the contractions and chills dissipated after an hour or so.

While they returned again at 5:30 am for 40 minutes, they did not leave me with a baby. Instead, they left me split apart into several pieces, walking around in agony.

It's just not fair to leave me this way for another three weeks. Whoever is in charge, please take some pity on me.

I have three kids to care for. I have a very large flight of stairs that I go up and down several times a day.

It's hard enough to put tight pants and boots on . . . and now that I can no longer lift my legs with out crying out in pain, I really need a break.

So please, baby. Hurry up. Your nursery isn't totally done. Your scrapbook isn't homemade . . . it's store bought and completely empty. We'll need to do some serious shopping for clothes upon your arrival. But we'll make do. And you'll be taken care of.

Hurry Baby, hurry. Please.

Someone Might Have Some Issues Soon

A certain little princess might find that she doesn't rule the roost anymore.

For the most part, I think she will be really excited to have a real baby around to take care of.

But, things are going to need to change for her. And pretty soon.

No more sneaking into mom and dad's bed through out the night.

No extended snuggle time at night with mom.

Even nap time might not warrant any time at all for Dora or Elmo stories.

She may cry, and pound on the door, but someone else's cries are going to be taking precedence.

And once our little princess finds out that it's Mom's baby, and not hers exclusively, and that this little tiny bundle is getting snuggled at night and carried around all day instead of her, some issues might arise.

I hope not, but we're preparing as best we can.

On The Back Burner . . . But Not For Long

I really hate maternity portraits.

Really. I do. Really. Hate. Them.

Maybe it is because it's the time when I feel like the largest whale, no, brachiosaurus, that ever was on this earth.

Maybe it's because other photographers usually do those awful nudie photos that seldom flatter anyone.

However, today I attempted some self portraits. (Well, Jackson actually helped to press the shutter on a few for me.)

It's not something I would normally do, obviously, but considering this poor little baby has been almost forgotten in all the house-building, moving, Christmas, house-finishing commotion, I feel like I need to have SOME record of the pregnancy.

I mean, usually by this time I have 6 months of a wardrobe at the ready: washed and neatly stacked in drawers. For this baby? I have two boy sleepers and a handful of girls'.

By about five months of pregnancy I would have the nursery completely set up and looking cute. For this baby? Well, it's mostly there, thanks to some hardwork of late. But there are still curtains to hang, a shelf to put up, accessories to finish, and artwork to be made and hung . . . not to mention a few repairs made to the crib.

And the baby's album would be lovingly handmade and ready with notes and photos about every month of pregnancy pasted in. For this baby? Not even one photo has been taken (apart from the ultrasound photos).

So, my lame attempt to let this baby know how important it really is, and how much it is anticipated (even if we are too busy or exhausted to show it), I have succumbed to taking maternity portraits.

All things considered, I think the two that I attempted with my short-attention spanned helpers turned out pretty well.

A New Favourite

Check this out! I think I may be ordering one (or two) pretty soon to help decorate my boys' bedrooms!

It's a company that takes your child's "doodle"

and then embellishes them into a masterpiece with oils!

How fantastic is that?

Find them here.

And Yet Again . . .

the garbage man disappoints.

I don't understand how hard it is to remember to pick up garbage. I realize that their schedule of every other week can be a little confusing, but for us poor people who can only put out two bags for those garbage days . . . we REALLY need that pick up.

Perhaps the township should reconsider this every other week thing. It's obviously too complicated.

Reminiscing

Since:

the kids were up at 6am this morning and have already gotten into tons of trouble,

I've been up at the crack of dawn trying to squeeze as much garbage onto our curb as I think they might take in the freezing cold weather,

the kids have taken every book off the bookcase that I just barely reorganized two days ago,

both Brad and I are in dire need of a vacation . . . and naturally can't take one at all . . . for a long time,

and Jayden has taken his photo album from last winter's vacation off the shelf,

I've been reminiscing about this trip.

How lovely it would be to go back in time again. Or redo the same trip . . . or any for that matter.
We will for sure have to plan on something for next year. February can get a little dreary.

Things That I've Been Loving . . .

I don't normally post about products or other blogs, but these few things have really caught my attention as of late and I just wanted to share!

1. Dior Lait Magique

Maybe it's because I've been skimping on skin care as of late and bought several $10 cleansers that I have forgotten how good a REAL cleanser can be. (I mean, shouldn't a cleanser actually REMOVE your make-up? Even mascara?)

This one takes every single bit off . . . in one easy step. A fantastic product in my opinion . . . and it costs just about the same as the last three cleansers (combined) that I've been struggling with.

2. Yonka Lait Nettoyant

My ultimate cleanser would be this one though. I used to use this on Jackson when he was a newborn and had skin issues. It's so gentle and healing, his skin would immediately improve after a wash with this. I might have to switch back to this one after my Dior runs out.

3. Expedit

There once was a time while living in Provo when I piled Brad and a four-month old Jayden in our car and set out 8 hours to LA . . . just to shop at Ikea.

Now that there are several Ikeas around . . . and we've had ample time to test out their (mostly) crappy products, I really hate Ikea. For the most part.

However, this bookcase series is really good. Really. Besides being an attractive price, I have found the smaller bookcases so versatile. (Would it be terrible if I had a hundred in my house? Currently I have them flanking the fireplace and they almost look like built-ins. And I bought one for our secretary table in the kitchen. I can totally use them in the kids' rooms as night stands too . . . the possibilities are endless . . . especially with a price of $69 each.)

4. Knock-Off Wood.

http://knockoffwood.blogspot.com/2010/02/plans-finally-dresser-maybe-not.html

My brother has a saying, "If it's not from Pottery Barn, it's not for Mel." True, until the cash runs out. But I somehow stumbled upon this awesome site and I am dying to try out my handy skills. (If you forget about the one time I almost sliced off my thumb with a bansaw in shop, I was actually pretty good.)

If you haven't heard of this site yet, you will soon thank me.