Owen was six weeks old yesterday. They say that if you can so anything for six weeks, it will become a habit, and you'll stick with it for life. Never worked for me with the gym, but I definitely feel like I have this whole mommy-thing under control at least.
We had our last official midwife appointment yesterday. Our last two appointments have been with Julie, because Sky is on vacation this month. (We have a social visit scheduled with her when she's back, so she can see how much Owen has grown!) I'm so sad to think that our time with all the midwives is over now - they've all been so wonderful, and Steve and I feel so lucky to have had the experience that we did with them. (Steve is a total advocate for midwifery care now! It's awesome to hear him.) I'm going to really miss Sky - but we're hoping to give Owen a little brother or sister when he's about two years old, so hopefully it won't be too long before we're making those long drives to St. Jacob's regularly again!
Anyway, Owen looked great at his final appointment. He weighed 12 lbs, 1 oz, so he's still growing like a little weed. He's more and more alert every day, and getting louder and more vocal with his cooing/talking/screetching. And I swear, that boy knows when someone is admiring him - he totally turns up the charm whenever anyone pays him the slightest compliment! He's a big flirt. He's started sucking his fists now when he's hungry, so grunting and snorting have been replaced by slurping as the cue that we'd better get him fed. I never thought it would happen, but I really can tell all the difference between his cries (not that there are many, there's the "I'm hungry", "I'm tired and need help falling asleep", and then there's the "I'm uncomfortable and/or hot - change my diaper, or take off my clothes", (in addition to being a flirt, he's a little nudist!)
We still haven't bothered with any sort of schedule, but our days have a routine to them with his eating and napping patterns. He's still a catnapper, but he is getting in one longer nap a day now. And he's still fantastic at night - goes down about 10, sleeps until 3:30-4, eats, and goes right back down until 7:30 or so. I'm not even napping in the day anymore. We go out and about and do our thing whether he's awake or asleep, and just transfer him from car seat to stroller to Baby Bjorn, or just carry him, depending on what suits his mood.
Of course, the real test will come in two weeks. That's when Steve goes back to school, and I'll be on my own during the day. Steve's managed to get in quite a bit of golf and poker this summer, so it's not like I haven't been on my own with Owen yet. We've been out and about just the two of us, and even survived a bit of a meltdown in Zellers together (his meltdown, I was fine). But it's just easier when Steve is around - when Owen decides he must eat NOW (and he is so like his mom in that way - I can go from zero to bitch in less than a second if I'm hungry and not getting fed!) I can always take him and find a quiet spot or go out to the Jeep and feed him, while Steve finishes up the shopping/paying our bill, whatever. Not that I'm adverse to breastfeeding in public, but the middle of the baby aisle in Zellers is not as comfortable as the Family Room at the other end of the mall. I at least require a place to sit, he's getting too heavy to walk and feed! :)
So, yes, in two weeks our summer "holidays" will be over, and I become a real stay-at-home mom all on my own for the next 10 months. I'm selfishly looking forward to having the little guy all to myself - Steve always wants to hold him and play with him too! But I'm hoping I don't have some sort of delayed post-partum depression, and suddenly lose it because I HAVE to do it all on my own. I know I can, I know I have, but maybe it's different day after day? All I know is, we're having tons of fun so far, and I can't imagine things really getting difficult. I'm sure everything will be fine. At six weeks in, I think we're both feeling pretty used to each other now, and we're all pretty confident that this new family structure is the best thing ever. But we sure will miss Papa when he goes back to work!
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Time Flies...
And we really are having fun!
I can't believe that Owen is 5 weeks old already. I finally got around to writing down his birth story, it's in the post below this one. He is the best baby in the world. We're still getting lots of sleep, he's growing like a weed (his next appointment is just before he turns 6 weeks, and we think he's closing in on 12 pounds!; he was 11.5 two weeks ago...). He's such a happy little guy, Steve calls him our "Cheeri-O". He's changed so much in 5 short weeks. He's really filled out, with pudgy little legs, a grapefruit belly, and chubby cheeks! And he's totally smiling at us...
Actually, I have a better picture that shows his gummy grin, but I have to get it off the camera still, and since it's out of batteries at the moment, that will have to wait. But here are some other cutie pictures...
We're having so much fun, our little family. Owen's been to a wedding, to his great-grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary celebration, to his great aunt and uncle's house on the lake (where he went fishing, dipped his toes in the lake, and went for a ride in Grandpa's boat!) and to any number of other parties and outings. He's such an easy guy to get out and about with - only fusses when hungry, and that's a problem I can easily solve!
And Owen is so much fun these days! He's coo-ing, and really trying to "talk" to us, grinning away whenever we have a "conversation". He's really noticing things around him, and he's started hitting out at toys around him (not really in that grasping stage yet, but he'll knock Tummytime Turtle around something fierce!) And speaking of tummy-time, he loves it. He kicks his legs, and if you hold your hand against his feet, he'll scoot along his blanket, he kicks so hard! He also likes to practice "running" in his bouncy chair - just kick kick kick, one leg after the other. He's a busy little guy, arms and legs always moving, and he keeps up a running commentary while he's going.
Poor Steve is starting to think about school now, with only a few more weeks to go for his summer holiday. He's going to miss our little guy something awful when he has to go back. He's such a great dad - I fall in love with him all over again whenever I see him with Owen. I'm so lucky - he changes more than his fair share of diapers, loves to give Owen his bath, and is just as involved with Owen as I am. The only thing he can't do yet is feed him, but I've started pumping, and we're planning on celebrating Owen's six-week birthday with a bottle from Daddy. He's (Owen, not Daddy) nursing very well, so there shouldn't be much chance of "nipple-confusion" anymore. I think Steve's pretty excited.
In other news, my sister got engaged over the holiday weekend! Owen is very excited for Auntie Kris and Hunkie Unkie Ryan! They're planning a November wedding, somewhere warm and beachy - I believe the Mayan Riviera is the front-runner at the moment. As the Maid of Honour (I refuse to refer to myself as the Matron of honour - what an ugly word!) I will be there of course, and the little guy too, we're just hoping that somehow Steve will be able to get a couple of days off from school to join us. We're thinking of doing just a 4-day package wherever they go, so keep your fingers crossed. Unfortunately, teachers don't have holiday time or anything, and who knows if they'll grant him a few personal days for a sister-in-law's wedding. But please cross your fingers for us too, every bit helps! Here's a picture of the happy couple:
So, that's all the news for now. More pics and Owen stories as time (and the little guy!) permits. Cheers!
I can't believe that Owen is 5 weeks old already. I finally got around to writing down his birth story, it's in the post below this one. He is the best baby in the world. We're still getting lots of sleep, he's growing like a weed (his next appointment is just before he turns 6 weeks, and we think he's closing in on 12 pounds!; he was 11.5 two weeks ago...). He's such a happy little guy, Steve calls him our "Cheeri-O". He's changed so much in 5 short weeks. He's really filled out, with pudgy little legs, a grapefruit belly, and chubby cheeks! And he's totally smiling at us...
Actually, I have a better picture that shows his gummy grin, but I have to get it off the camera still, and since it's out of batteries at the moment, that will have to wait. But here are some other cutie pictures...
We're having so much fun, our little family. Owen's been to a wedding, to his great-grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary celebration, to his great aunt and uncle's house on the lake (where he went fishing, dipped his toes in the lake, and went for a ride in Grandpa's boat!) and to any number of other parties and outings. He's such an easy guy to get out and about with - only fusses when hungry, and that's a problem I can easily solve!
And Owen is so much fun these days! He's coo-ing, and really trying to "talk" to us, grinning away whenever we have a "conversation". He's really noticing things around him, and he's started hitting out at toys around him (not really in that grasping stage yet, but he'll knock Tummytime Turtle around something fierce!) And speaking of tummy-time, he loves it. He kicks his legs, and if you hold your hand against his feet, he'll scoot along his blanket, he kicks so hard! He also likes to practice "running" in his bouncy chair - just kick kick kick, one leg after the other. He's a busy little guy, arms and legs always moving, and he keeps up a running commentary while he's going.
Poor Steve is starting to think about school now, with only a few more weeks to go for his summer holiday. He's going to miss our little guy something awful when he has to go back. He's such a great dad - I fall in love with him all over again whenever I see him with Owen. I'm so lucky - he changes more than his fair share of diapers, loves to give Owen his bath, and is just as involved with Owen as I am. The only thing he can't do yet is feed him, but I've started pumping, and we're planning on celebrating Owen's six-week birthday with a bottle from Daddy. He's (Owen, not Daddy) nursing very well, so there shouldn't be much chance of "nipple-confusion" anymore. I think Steve's pretty excited.
In other news, my sister got engaged over the holiday weekend! Owen is very excited for Auntie Kris and Hunkie Unkie Ryan! They're planning a November wedding, somewhere warm and beachy - I believe the Mayan Riviera is the front-runner at the moment. As the Maid of Honour (I refuse to refer to myself as the Matron of honour - what an ugly word!) I will be there of course, and the little guy too, we're just hoping that somehow Steve will be able to get a couple of days off from school to join us. We're thinking of doing just a 4-day package wherever they go, so keep your fingers crossed. Unfortunately, teachers don't have holiday time or anything, and who knows if they'll grant him a few personal days for a sister-in-law's wedding. But please cross your fingers for us too, every bit helps! Here's a picture of the happy couple:
So, that's all the news for now. More pics and Owen stories as time (and the little guy!) permits. Cheers!
Owen's Birth Story
All along, before I had even gotten pregnant, I knew that I wanted a natural, drug-free birth. I felt it would be best for myself (easier recovery) as well as for the baby (no drugs to cross the placenta and make him drowsy). This was one of the reasons I went with the midwives for my prenatal care – I felt I’d have the best chance of a natural birth with their guidance.
So imagine my frustration when Sky and Tracy had to bring up the possibility of induction once I was past my due date. I did not want to be induced – my vision of a natural delivery did not include Pitocin! I had every confidence in my ability to have my baby naturally – unless I had a drug-induced labour. I had only heard horrible things about Pitocin-induced labour – it was hard, and no one had a good story to tell.
Once I was past my due date, I had an ultrasound scheduled for Friday, June 30, just to check in and make sure everything was okay. (The biggest concern with post-date babies is the placenta beginning to break down.) Our little guy was doing just fine, so no worries there at least. When I had seen Sky and Tracy the day before, we decided that if nothing happened over the weekend, I would see an OB for a consult the next week. If I had to be induced, at that point, my care would have to be transferred to an OB, so it would be better to at least consult with one ahead of time, instead of just showing up two weeks overdue.
Over the long weekend, nothing happened. Not even false labour, or Braxton Hicks contractions. Nada. On Sunday evening, Sky called. She had finally gotten the list of OBs on call at the hospital over the next few days, and the most “post-date friendly” OB, Dr. Potts, was on call that evening. Would we be able to meet here there for a non-stress test and a consult? Definitely!
We met Sky at the hospital, and went up to Maternity Triage. We did the non-stress test (NST) first – they attached two monitors to my belly. One monitored the baby’s heart rate, and the other monitored for (non-existent) contractions. I had a little button I had to press every time I felt the baby move – the idea was to see if my feeling fetal movement corresponded with his rise in heart rate (from moving). It did, and all was well.
The doctor came in, and examined me, telling me what we already suspected. At my last appointment the previous Thursday, Sky was going to attempt a “stretch and sweep” of my cervix and membranes to try and get things moving, but I wasn’t even dilated enough for that. Things hadn’t changed. The doctor said that given my positive test that evening, and the good results from the ultrasound on Friday, he would be comfortable letting me go to 42 weeks, if I wanted. He recommended I continue with a NST on Tuesday, another ultrasound on Wednesday, and a further NST and Cervadil insertion on Thursday, with the view to inducing me on the Friday (if necessary). (Before your cervix can even begin to dilate, it has to soften and thin, which the Cervadil should cause it to do. Mine was still too firm and long – they can’t even start the Pitocin drip until your cervix has softened, hence the Cervadil the day before induction.) That way, if things got too busy in the hospital for them to induce me on Friday, he’d still feel comfortable letting me go until Saturday or Sunday. So that became the plan, but I was still hoping that the baby would come on his own.
Another NST, another ultrasound. Everything still looked healthy with baby, and I was still feeling lots of movement from him, so I knew he was fine, but why wouldn’t he come out???
Finally, Thursday rolled around. I was feeling like this was my last chance – Sky had told me that for 40% of women, the Cervadil alone was enough to kick them into labour. I was really hoping to fall into that 40%! Steve and I went to the hospital again, and had to start with yet another NST. So far, so good. Then, we had to wait for the OB on call to do the Cervadil. So we waited. And waited. The thing about Triage in the maternity ward is, if neither you nor your baby are in any real trouble, you are a low priority. That day, there were three different pregnant women who had been in car accidents. Thankfully, everything ended up being okay with them and their babies, but we kept getting bumped down the list. Finally, they tracked down the doctor, and I got the Cervadil. Then, I had to do another NST to ensure that the baby was reacting okay to the drug.
About halfway through this NST, we started getting some wacky readings on the monitor – it said the baby’s heart rate was up around 200, then down about 40. I think it was because he was moving, and the monitor couldn’t read him properly. But because of that “deceleration” down to 40, I had to start all over with the time measurement, to ensure this was a one time thing. All in all, we spent about 4.5 hours at the hospital on Thursday, and when we finally left to go home, I was exhausted.
We got home just before 7 pm, and nothing was happening. Sky called around 9 to see how I was doing, and I told her I had just started feeling some really mild cramps, but they weren’t regular, and they were barely even noticeable. She said that was the drug working away, and to try and get some rest, because Friday would be a long day if I didn’t get some sleep. I went up to bed around 10, and dozed. By the time Steve came up around 11:30, I was up and rocking in the chair in the baby’s room. I was still feeling cramps, they were still mild, but they had gotten into a pattern: two minutes apart, and lasting for about a minute. We had been told to call the midwives when contractions were less than 5 minutes apart, but these were still just mild cramps – I wasn’t sure if this was worth calling about or not, but I paged Sky anyway. She decided that she and Tracy would come check on me.
They arrived about 1 a.m., and I was still just feeling those regular, mild cramps. Sky examined me, and I still wasn’t dilating. Nothing happening. She said it was just the Cervadil working away, and repeated her advice to try and get some sleep, because Friday was going to be a long day. Steve and I went to bed. I dozed on and off for about an hour, and Steve fell asleep.
By about 3 a.m., the cramps had gotten a little stronger, and were no longer so close together. I got up and heated my barley sock (literally, a sock filled with barley – makes a great heating compress!) in the microwave and lay in bed with it against my back – that helped a lot. By about 3:30, I couldn’t take the cramps lying in bed anymore – I would get up with each one and go into the bathroom and lean down against the countertop, then in between I’d rush back to bed to lie down and rest. By 3:45 I was really working hard to relax between contractions (they definitely weren’t cramps anymore!) and had decided that I would try to make it to 4 before waking Steve and calling the midwives. I was worried that things were getting a little tougher, but what if I was working this hard to relax through contractions, and nothing were happening still? Would I be able to make it all the way to 10 centimeters?
At 4, I woke Steve. Before calling the midwives, he ran me a hot bath, and helped me into the tub. I really thought that I would enjoy labouring in water, but while the hot water felt great and really helped me relax between contractions, I hated being in the tub during contractions. I wanted to be back in my standing bent-over position by the countertop! When Steve got off the phone, I had him help me out of the tub. Then I thought I’d try the shower. We have a bench in there that I could lean on, and I thought I’d really like the water beating on my back. And I did… until I had another contraction, and then I wanted nothing to do with it!
By the time I got out of the shower, it was 4:30, and Tracy and Sky had arrived again. They checked me – I was 3-4 cm dilated! The Cervadil had worked! I quickly found that the best way to labour was leaning over the bed, and it really helped to have someone putting pressure with a single hand on my lower back, right near the base of my spine. Anything else was distracting – I wanted no additional touching! In between contractions, having two hands on my back on either side of my spine helped me to relax. Steve got the hang of this “one hand, two hands” switch very quickly, and was great.
By 5, the contractions seemed to be pretty intense, so Sky examined me again. In that half hour, I had progressed to 7 cm! Time to think about getting to the hospital. It took a while to get organized between contractions, but eventually, I was dressed, down the stairs, and ready to get into the Jeep. I was pretty nervous about the ride to the hospital – I had been labouring standing up and leaning over, and was handling things pretty well, but I wasn’t looking forward to having to sit with my seatbelt on for the ride to the hospital! Steve was nervous for other reasons – my water hadn’t broken yet, and one of the last things Sky said before she got into her car to follow us was that if I felt the urge to push, not to! I’m sure he had visions of the baby coming in the Jeep!
The ride to the hospital was actually not as bad as I had been dreading. One of the books I had read had mentioned that the transfer to the hospital can sometimes slow labour down – it has to do with the body’s fight or flight response. If you’re on the move, your body doesn’t think it’s a good time to have a baby, and tries to slow things down. I’m not sure if that’s what really happened, but I found a few of my contractions were milder during the drive – I was just panting through them, rather than moaning and using my relaxation techniques.
We arrived at the hospital at 5:45. Sky put me in a wheelchair and took me up to the maternity ward while Tracy waited for Steve to park and brought him up. Before we left the house, Sky had called Joan to let her know we were on our way to the hospital, and she arrived shortly after we did. I had to get blood drawn just after we arrived, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done was sit still through a contraction while the technician had the needle in my arm. (How does anyone sit still through a contraction while getting a needle in the back for an epidural??)
At about 6, I was really feeling pressure, and the urge to push was quite strong. Joan told me to go ahead and push with the next contraction, and pushing with the contraction made all the pain go away! It felt so good. They checked me out – 10 cm, definitely ready to go!
They decided to break my water, since it still hadn’t happened, and when they did, there was meconium in it (the baby had had his first bowel movement while still inside – not a huge deal, but there can be some concern if he breathes some of it in). Because of the meconium, they strapped the monitor to me to keep an eye on his heart rate.
I kept pushing with each contraction. There wasn’t time to break the bed down to get the squat bar set up, even though I had wanted to push in an upright squatting position. Instead, Sky supported me on one side, and Steve on the other, holding me in a squat on the bed between the two of them. When he was getting close, they had me lie back down, and Sky and Steve each held one of my legs. Steve had to remind me to breathe, I was concentrating so hard on pushing with each contraction!
I remember Sky telling me not to worry, but the baby’s heart rate was dropping a little with each contraction, so they’d like to get him out soon. She said that she might want to do an episiotomy if needed to get him out faster, and would that be okay, if he needed it? (One of the things we’d discussed previously was that I didn’t want an episiotomy unless it was absolutely necessary for the baby.) I said yes, if it was for him, she could do it. But I also found a little bit of extra strength to push even harder with the next contractions – my baby needed me to get him out!
And at 6:16 a.m., get him out I did! The episiotomy never happened – I got him out before they really got worried about him (although I did tear a little, and needed a few stitches). I remember them telling me that he was coming, and feeling him crowning (I remember thinking, oh, so this is the “ring of fire”. It’s not actually that bad… it’s definitely not excruciating…) and then Sky was telling me to reach down and grab my baby! I reached down, and there he was! They helped me lift him up to my chest, and covered us both with a sheet. He was here! He was finally here! I was so happy, I remember just looking up at Steve and saying, “He’s here!”
Owen Edward Howard was born at 6:16 a.m. on July 7, 2006. He weighed 8 lbs, 8 ozs and was 22 cm long. He had wispy brown hair, dark grey eyes, and long fingers and toes. He was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
It was an overwhelming moment. Lots of crazy thoughts ran through my head: “He’s finally HERE!”, “He doesn’t have a funny-shaped head!”, “He’s so little!”, “I DID IT!”, and “Wow, I feel really good now that he’s out!”
I held on to my little guy and snuggled him tightly while I delivered the placenta (when I had to push for the placenta, I didn’t even realize I was tense about more pain until Tracy said “It’s okay Cari, there’s no bones in the placenta”, and then I relaxed.) I remember saying to Steve, “Isn’t he beautiful?” and telling Steve that I loved him, and Steve telling me he loved me. We were finally a family of three!
Because of the meconium, they had to have the pediatrician on call check out our little guy. She did his APGARs (measurements out of 10 of how healthy the baby is at 1 and 5 minutes after birth) and he scored 9 and 9. While Sky gave me a few stitches, Steve dressed Owen in his first clothes, and snuggled him for a little bit, then brought him back to me.
We’d left our cell phone at home (on the charger!) in the rush to get to the hospital, but Joan found a phone for us to use, and we called our parents to tell them that our little guy was finally here. (We had to wait until we got home to call our friends, because we didn’t have a phone list – all the numbers were programmed in the cell!)
Then I was able to try to feed Owen for the first time, and he actually latched on right away! I was so happy, another reason I’d wanted to avoid the drugs was to help get breastfeeding off to a good start with an alert baby. I remember saying again at this point, “I did it! And without any drugs!” and Tracy said, “You sure did, and you didn’t even ask for them!” I was pretty proud of myself. Steve was proud of me too – I can be a bit of a suck around the house, if I hurt myself. I know he was pulling for me, but had his doubts about my pain tolerance.
After his first feeding, I gave the baby back to Steve and ate some breakfast. Then I got up and Joan helped me to the washroom to get cleaned up and dressed. Sky was just working on some paperwork, and we were nearly ready to go. Steve had to go back to the car to get Owen’s car seat (they don’t let you leave the hospital with your baby until they can see you have a proper car seat). Just before he left, his mom arrived, so she held Owen while Steve went to the car for his seat. Then we packed everything up, and headed down to the Jeep. Tracy had to leave for class that morning, so just Sky was coming home with us. We said goodbye to Steve’s mom in the lobby, and put our little guy in the Jeep. He cried a bit on the ride home – I think he wanted to be held some more.
We got home about 10 a.m. We’d spent more time in the hospital the day before than we had that morning having the baby! I was so happy to be able to come home right away. All three of us just got into bed together. Sky helped me feed Owen again, and when she was sure we were settled and comfortable, she headed out, letting us know she’d be back with Tracy later that evening to check in on us. We just snuggled down, the three of us, and Steve and I sang softly to Owen:
"A man and a woman had a little baby, yes they did. They had three in the family. It’s a magic number: three."
So imagine my frustration when Sky and Tracy had to bring up the possibility of induction once I was past my due date. I did not want to be induced – my vision of a natural delivery did not include Pitocin! I had every confidence in my ability to have my baby naturally – unless I had a drug-induced labour. I had only heard horrible things about Pitocin-induced labour – it was hard, and no one had a good story to tell.
Once I was past my due date, I had an ultrasound scheduled for Friday, June 30, just to check in and make sure everything was okay. (The biggest concern with post-date babies is the placenta beginning to break down.) Our little guy was doing just fine, so no worries there at least. When I had seen Sky and Tracy the day before, we decided that if nothing happened over the weekend, I would see an OB for a consult the next week. If I had to be induced, at that point, my care would have to be transferred to an OB, so it would be better to at least consult with one ahead of time, instead of just showing up two weeks overdue.
Over the long weekend, nothing happened. Not even false labour, or Braxton Hicks contractions. Nada. On Sunday evening, Sky called. She had finally gotten the list of OBs on call at the hospital over the next few days, and the most “post-date friendly” OB, Dr. Potts, was on call that evening. Would we be able to meet here there for a non-stress test and a consult? Definitely!
We met Sky at the hospital, and went up to Maternity Triage. We did the non-stress test (NST) first – they attached two monitors to my belly. One monitored the baby’s heart rate, and the other monitored for (non-existent) contractions. I had a little button I had to press every time I felt the baby move – the idea was to see if my feeling fetal movement corresponded with his rise in heart rate (from moving). It did, and all was well.
The doctor came in, and examined me, telling me what we already suspected. At my last appointment the previous Thursday, Sky was going to attempt a “stretch and sweep” of my cervix and membranes to try and get things moving, but I wasn’t even dilated enough for that. Things hadn’t changed. The doctor said that given my positive test that evening, and the good results from the ultrasound on Friday, he would be comfortable letting me go to 42 weeks, if I wanted. He recommended I continue with a NST on Tuesday, another ultrasound on Wednesday, and a further NST and Cervadil insertion on Thursday, with the view to inducing me on the Friday (if necessary). (Before your cervix can even begin to dilate, it has to soften and thin, which the Cervadil should cause it to do. Mine was still too firm and long – they can’t even start the Pitocin drip until your cervix has softened, hence the Cervadil the day before induction.) That way, if things got too busy in the hospital for them to induce me on Friday, he’d still feel comfortable letting me go until Saturday or Sunday. So that became the plan, but I was still hoping that the baby would come on his own.
Another NST, another ultrasound. Everything still looked healthy with baby, and I was still feeling lots of movement from him, so I knew he was fine, but why wouldn’t he come out???
Finally, Thursday rolled around. I was feeling like this was my last chance – Sky had told me that for 40% of women, the Cervadil alone was enough to kick them into labour. I was really hoping to fall into that 40%! Steve and I went to the hospital again, and had to start with yet another NST. So far, so good. Then, we had to wait for the OB on call to do the Cervadil. So we waited. And waited. The thing about Triage in the maternity ward is, if neither you nor your baby are in any real trouble, you are a low priority. That day, there were three different pregnant women who had been in car accidents. Thankfully, everything ended up being okay with them and their babies, but we kept getting bumped down the list. Finally, they tracked down the doctor, and I got the Cervadil. Then, I had to do another NST to ensure that the baby was reacting okay to the drug.
About halfway through this NST, we started getting some wacky readings on the monitor – it said the baby’s heart rate was up around 200, then down about 40. I think it was because he was moving, and the monitor couldn’t read him properly. But because of that “deceleration” down to 40, I had to start all over with the time measurement, to ensure this was a one time thing. All in all, we spent about 4.5 hours at the hospital on Thursday, and when we finally left to go home, I was exhausted.
We got home just before 7 pm, and nothing was happening. Sky called around 9 to see how I was doing, and I told her I had just started feeling some really mild cramps, but they weren’t regular, and they were barely even noticeable. She said that was the drug working away, and to try and get some rest, because Friday would be a long day if I didn’t get some sleep. I went up to bed around 10, and dozed. By the time Steve came up around 11:30, I was up and rocking in the chair in the baby’s room. I was still feeling cramps, they were still mild, but they had gotten into a pattern: two minutes apart, and lasting for about a minute. We had been told to call the midwives when contractions were less than 5 minutes apart, but these were still just mild cramps – I wasn’t sure if this was worth calling about or not, but I paged Sky anyway. She decided that she and Tracy would come check on me.
They arrived about 1 a.m., and I was still just feeling those regular, mild cramps. Sky examined me, and I still wasn’t dilating. Nothing happening. She said it was just the Cervadil working away, and repeated her advice to try and get some sleep, because Friday was going to be a long day. Steve and I went to bed. I dozed on and off for about an hour, and Steve fell asleep.
By about 3 a.m., the cramps had gotten a little stronger, and were no longer so close together. I got up and heated my barley sock (literally, a sock filled with barley – makes a great heating compress!) in the microwave and lay in bed with it against my back – that helped a lot. By about 3:30, I couldn’t take the cramps lying in bed anymore – I would get up with each one and go into the bathroom and lean down against the countertop, then in between I’d rush back to bed to lie down and rest. By 3:45 I was really working hard to relax between contractions (they definitely weren’t cramps anymore!) and had decided that I would try to make it to 4 before waking Steve and calling the midwives. I was worried that things were getting a little tougher, but what if I was working this hard to relax through contractions, and nothing were happening still? Would I be able to make it all the way to 10 centimeters?
At 4, I woke Steve. Before calling the midwives, he ran me a hot bath, and helped me into the tub. I really thought that I would enjoy labouring in water, but while the hot water felt great and really helped me relax between contractions, I hated being in the tub during contractions. I wanted to be back in my standing bent-over position by the countertop! When Steve got off the phone, I had him help me out of the tub. Then I thought I’d try the shower. We have a bench in there that I could lean on, and I thought I’d really like the water beating on my back. And I did… until I had another contraction, and then I wanted nothing to do with it!
By the time I got out of the shower, it was 4:30, and Tracy and Sky had arrived again. They checked me – I was 3-4 cm dilated! The Cervadil had worked! I quickly found that the best way to labour was leaning over the bed, and it really helped to have someone putting pressure with a single hand on my lower back, right near the base of my spine. Anything else was distracting – I wanted no additional touching! In between contractions, having two hands on my back on either side of my spine helped me to relax. Steve got the hang of this “one hand, two hands” switch very quickly, and was great.
By 5, the contractions seemed to be pretty intense, so Sky examined me again. In that half hour, I had progressed to 7 cm! Time to think about getting to the hospital. It took a while to get organized between contractions, but eventually, I was dressed, down the stairs, and ready to get into the Jeep. I was pretty nervous about the ride to the hospital – I had been labouring standing up and leaning over, and was handling things pretty well, but I wasn’t looking forward to having to sit with my seatbelt on for the ride to the hospital! Steve was nervous for other reasons – my water hadn’t broken yet, and one of the last things Sky said before she got into her car to follow us was that if I felt the urge to push, not to! I’m sure he had visions of the baby coming in the Jeep!
The ride to the hospital was actually not as bad as I had been dreading. One of the books I had read had mentioned that the transfer to the hospital can sometimes slow labour down – it has to do with the body’s fight or flight response. If you’re on the move, your body doesn’t think it’s a good time to have a baby, and tries to slow things down. I’m not sure if that’s what really happened, but I found a few of my contractions were milder during the drive – I was just panting through them, rather than moaning and using my relaxation techniques.
We arrived at the hospital at 5:45. Sky put me in a wheelchair and took me up to the maternity ward while Tracy waited for Steve to park and brought him up. Before we left the house, Sky had called Joan to let her know we were on our way to the hospital, and she arrived shortly after we did. I had to get blood drawn just after we arrived, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done was sit still through a contraction while the technician had the needle in my arm. (How does anyone sit still through a contraction while getting a needle in the back for an epidural??)
At about 6, I was really feeling pressure, and the urge to push was quite strong. Joan told me to go ahead and push with the next contraction, and pushing with the contraction made all the pain go away! It felt so good. They checked me out – 10 cm, definitely ready to go!
They decided to break my water, since it still hadn’t happened, and when they did, there was meconium in it (the baby had had his first bowel movement while still inside – not a huge deal, but there can be some concern if he breathes some of it in). Because of the meconium, they strapped the monitor to me to keep an eye on his heart rate.
I kept pushing with each contraction. There wasn’t time to break the bed down to get the squat bar set up, even though I had wanted to push in an upright squatting position. Instead, Sky supported me on one side, and Steve on the other, holding me in a squat on the bed between the two of them. When he was getting close, they had me lie back down, and Sky and Steve each held one of my legs. Steve had to remind me to breathe, I was concentrating so hard on pushing with each contraction!
I remember Sky telling me not to worry, but the baby’s heart rate was dropping a little with each contraction, so they’d like to get him out soon. She said that she might want to do an episiotomy if needed to get him out faster, and would that be okay, if he needed it? (One of the things we’d discussed previously was that I didn’t want an episiotomy unless it was absolutely necessary for the baby.) I said yes, if it was for him, she could do it. But I also found a little bit of extra strength to push even harder with the next contractions – my baby needed me to get him out!
And at 6:16 a.m., get him out I did! The episiotomy never happened – I got him out before they really got worried about him (although I did tear a little, and needed a few stitches). I remember them telling me that he was coming, and feeling him crowning (I remember thinking, oh, so this is the “ring of fire”. It’s not actually that bad… it’s definitely not excruciating…) and then Sky was telling me to reach down and grab my baby! I reached down, and there he was! They helped me lift him up to my chest, and covered us both with a sheet. He was here! He was finally here! I was so happy, I remember just looking up at Steve and saying, “He’s here!”
Owen Edward Howard was born at 6:16 a.m. on July 7, 2006. He weighed 8 lbs, 8 ozs and was 22 cm long. He had wispy brown hair, dark grey eyes, and long fingers and toes. He was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.
It was an overwhelming moment. Lots of crazy thoughts ran through my head: “He’s finally HERE!”, “He doesn’t have a funny-shaped head!”, “He’s so little!”, “I DID IT!”, and “Wow, I feel really good now that he’s out!”
I held on to my little guy and snuggled him tightly while I delivered the placenta (when I had to push for the placenta, I didn’t even realize I was tense about more pain until Tracy said “It’s okay Cari, there’s no bones in the placenta”, and then I relaxed.) I remember saying to Steve, “Isn’t he beautiful?” and telling Steve that I loved him, and Steve telling me he loved me. We were finally a family of three!
Because of the meconium, they had to have the pediatrician on call check out our little guy. She did his APGARs (measurements out of 10 of how healthy the baby is at 1 and 5 minutes after birth) and he scored 9 and 9. While Sky gave me a few stitches, Steve dressed Owen in his first clothes, and snuggled him for a little bit, then brought him back to me.
We’d left our cell phone at home (on the charger!) in the rush to get to the hospital, but Joan found a phone for us to use, and we called our parents to tell them that our little guy was finally here. (We had to wait until we got home to call our friends, because we didn’t have a phone list – all the numbers were programmed in the cell!)
Then I was able to try to feed Owen for the first time, and he actually latched on right away! I was so happy, another reason I’d wanted to avoid the drugs was to help get breastfeeding off to a good start with an alert baby. I remember saying again at this point, “I did it! And without any drugs!” and Tracy said, “You sure did, and you didn’t even ask for them!” I was pretty proud of myself. Steve was proud of me too – I can be a bit of a suck around the house, if I hurt myself. I know he was pulling for me, but had his doubts about my pain tolerance.
After his first feeding, I gave the baby back to Steve and ate some breakfast. Then I got up and Joan helped me to the washroom to get cleaned up and dressed. Sky was just working on some paperwork, and we were nearly ready to go. Steve had to go back to the car to get Owen’s car seat (they don’t let you leave the hospital with your baby until they can see you have a proper car seat). Just before he left, his mom arrived, so she held Owen while Steve went to the car for his seat. Then we packed everything up, and headed down to the Jeep. Tracy had to leave for class that morning, so just Sky was coming home with us. We said goodbye to Steve’s mom in the lobby, and put our little guy in the Jeep. He cried a bit on the ride home – I think he wanted to be held some more.
We got home about 10 a.m. We’d spent more time in the hospital the day before than we had that morning having the baby! I was so happy to be able to come home right away. All three of us just got into bed together. Sky helped me feed Owen again, and when she was sure we were settled and comfortable, she headed out, letting us know she’d be back with Tracy later that evening to check in on us. We just snuggled down, the three of us, and Steve and I sang softly to Owen:
"A man and a woman had a little baby, yes they did. They had three in the family. It’s a magic number: three."
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