I cannot believe how busy I am.
I was in my pajamas until 1pm today. Not because I'm lazy and slept in, oh no. I was stuck in my pajamas because I didn't have even one spare second to put on real clothes this morning. Baby girl keeps me so busy, I am finding it a real challenge to do regular day-to-day things (like shower, eat, blink) let alone keep up with my blogging properly. I have been experiencing so many things that I've wanted to write about - milestones, breast feeding developments, baby acne, etc. - but have had nary a second to check my email let alone update my blog.
However, since Maya is currently sleeping right next to me I actually have a minute to check in here. I am reading other blogs but not commenting as much as I would like. As for updating my own blog, rather than try to backtrack and cover all the developments that I've missed documenting over the past week or so, I think I'm just gonna start fresh and talk about what's going on today, now, this minute. Here goes:
D has gone back to work as of Monday. It's been hard without him, I miss him tons. And I know he misses us too because he's CONSTANTLY calling to check in on his "girls". We've been managing but I must admit it is a lot more challenging to keep up with baby girl without those extra set of hands.
Maya is a really LOUD baby. She grunts, growls and snorts like a 65 year old man. It really is the cutest thing. When she stretches, it sounds like a valosa raptor laying an egg. We love it. She is such a vocal little monster.
My daughter absolutely loves her feet massaged. Just like her mummy. Not too hard, not too soft, and she likes it when I play with her toes. She'll flex, clench and stretch her feet in response to the rubbing. It's soooooo cute.
Maya's room is finally finished! I'm going to take some pictures and post them asap. She's currently sleeping between D and I at night in her co-sleeper and I can't bear to put her in her crib just yet. We set her down in there yesterday while we were finishing up her room and she looked SO small in there. Such a tiny girl swimming in sea of crib and bedding. We'll get there. But for now, I like to hear her grunts and growls while she sleeps right next to me.
I know it's far too early to establish a routine quite yet - Maya is only barely three weeks old after all - but I am planting the seeds. Starting yesterday, unless we're out, feedings always take place in the rocking chair in her room. Followed by a burp and a diaper change and a few minutes rocking in the chair...and maybe a story. We started out giving her a bath once a week, and then twice a week, and now we're up to every other night. Starting tonight, we're going to start bathing her every night as part of her bedtime routine. I am convinced that babies enjoy routine. I know that I am excited to have one.
We had a doctor's appointment last week and everything went great. The doctor was happy with Maya's weight gain (up about a pound to 8lbs 8oz). We go back for another weight check on Monday. I think (and hope) she'll be up again by quite a bit. She feels heavier to me. And she seems bigger. She's already outgrown a handful of outfits.
My biggest challenge thus far has been *trying* to accept that she's not as fragile as she seems. Every time I pick her up, I wonder if I've wrenched her neck or pressed a fontanelle. Everyone says it's much harder to hurt a baby than I think it is, but I am so totally consumed with worry about accidently hurting her. She's just so tiny. And I love her so very much. And I think part of it is that we've worked so hard and waited so long to have her, I'm nervous about breaking her. Am I the only one who worries about this?
I am so in love with my daughter. She is really and truly the love of my life. Barely three weeks old and she's already got such a personality. She totally cracks D and I up on a regular basis. This parenting thing is really hard work, no doubt, but I can barely remember my life before she came along. Every fiber of my being just wants to provide for her and take care of her and protect her and make her happy. When she's crying, it makes me crazy, I can't concentrate on anything else. I don't know how else to explain it other than to say that right now - I am Maya's mum first, Hilary second.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
we're off to see the wizard
Or rather, the amazing doctor that got us pregnant. We named Maya's middle name after our wonderful fertility doctor who helped us to finally have this baby, so we felt it was really important that Dr. T gets to meet her little namesake! The whole clinic is very excited to have us visit. And I am excited to show off their beautiful handiwork. I have been dreaming of this day for 11 months now.
I was told once in jest that IVF babies are cuter than other babies, and I'm starting to think maybe that's true...
I was told once in jest that IVF babies are cuter than other babies, and I'm starting to think maybe that's true...
Monday, September 8, 2008
they grow up so fast
Wow. I have been meaning to post for the past few days, but my kiddo has kept me so busy I haven't even had time to shower or eat (D has literally had to spoon food in my mouth whilst I am nursing Maya) let alone even think about getting on the computer. I just can't believe how the days are already flying by. But, after a late night with a gassy baby, she is passed out next to me now, giving me a few minutes to finally update.
One of the reasons Maya has kept her mummy running is because this little girl wants to eat ALL THE TIME. We are exclusively breastfeeding her so she is constantly on my boob. At this point, she eats almost every hour. And when you factor in changing diapers, cleaning up spit up, trying to keep up with the laundry, and everything else baby-related, I am quite literally busy morning, noon and night.
But all this feeding is certainly not in vain; baby girl is already about 9 pounds (based on daddy weighing himself on our home scale and then weighing himself again holding Maya and doing the subtraction - so this is not an exact measurement) and is officially in the size 1 diapers. Size 1 is the next size up from newborn (the smallest size). Which means only one thing: Baby's got back. Also notable is the fact that Maya's cheeks are getting chubby and she's got a double chin now. Cute cute cute. I loves me a chubby baby.
Maya is also smiling now, which I personally think means she's super advanced for her age. Sure, most of her smiles are sleep-smiles or gas-smiles, but I can confidently count THREE separate smiling incidences where either D or I were able to elicit a sweet baby smile IN RESPONSE to our smiles. Taking into account that Maya is only 2 weeks old, doubters and naysayers are understandably plenty. But I know my baby and I know what I saw. I was even able to catch one such smile on film:
In our two weeks of trial-by-fire parenting, D and I have come to discover that we both excel at different parenting skills. I find it interesting that with no prior training, both of us have naturally come into our own with certain aspects of parenting.
For example: D is REALLY good at changing her clothes, getting her to fall asleep and distracting and soothing her when she's upset. I am REALLY good at knowing instinctively what she wants, reading to her (we like Goodnight Moon) and getting her to smile. D and I have become such a team when it comes to managing the care of this baby, it makes me wonder how things will be when D goes back to work after this week. Honestly, I am a bit scared. Thank goodness my mum and dad are coming back to town.
This is getting to be a bit of a long and rambling post, mostly due to the fact that I have been wanting to post every day for the past several days and am now just getting a chance to empty my brain here. I should wrap it up. But before I go, I want to leave you with the lessons I've learned from Week Two of being Maya's mummy:
1. There is a thin layer of dried breastmilk/spit up covering nearly every surface of my house at this point. I have learned to accept it.
2. NEVER remove the dirty diaper from under baby's bum before there is a new one unwrapped and ready to go.
3. Meals just don't happen, at least for the first few weeks. It is imperative to have cupboards well stocked with snacks that can be eaten quickly with one hand and no utensils. Even cereal is too much to manage for the most part.
4. Take lots of pictures. Every day if possible. Babies really do change every day.
5. Keep trying on those baby outfits that are a bit too big. By the end of the week, they just might fit.
One of the reasons Maya has kept her mummy running is because this little girl wants to eat ALL THE TIME. We are exclusively breastfeeding her so she is constantly on my boob. At this point, she eats almost every hour. And when you factor in changing diapers, cleaning up spit up, trying to keep up with the laundry, and everything else baby-related, I am quite literally busy morning, noon and night.
But all this feeding is certainly not in vain; baby girl is already about 9 pounds (based on daddy weighing himself on our home scale and then weighing himself again holding Maya and doing the subtraction - so this is not an exact measurement) and is officially in the size 1 diapers. Size 1 is the next size up from newborn (the smallest size). Which means only one thing: Baby's got back. Also notable is the fact that Maya's cheeks are getting chubby and she's got a double chin now. Cute cute cute. I loves me a chubby baby.
Maya is also smiling now, which I personally think means she's super advanced for her age. Sure, most of her smiles are sleep-smiles or gas-smiles, but I can confidently count THREE separate smiling incidences where either D or I were able to elicit a sweet baby smile IN RESPONSE to our smiles. Taking into account that Maya is only 2 weeks old, doubters and naysayers are understandably plenty. But I know my baby and I know what I saw. I was even able to catch one such smile on film:
In our two weeks of trial-by-fire parenting, D and I have come to discover that we both excel at different parenting skills. I find it interesting that with no prior training, both of us have naturally come into our own with certain aspects of parenting.
For example: D is REALLY good at changing her clothes, getting her to fall asleep and distracting and soothing her when she's upset. I am REALLY good at knowing instinctively what she wants, reading to her (we like Goodnight Moon) and getting her to smile. D and I have become such a team when it comes to managing the care of this baby, it makes me wonder how things will be when D goes back to work after this week. Honestly, I am a bit scared. Thank goodness my mum and dad are coming back to town.This is getting to be a bit of a long and rambling post, mostly due to the fact that I have been wanting to post every day for the past several days and am now just getting a chance to empty my brain here. I should wrap it up. But before I go, I want to leave you with the lessons I've learned from Week Two of being Maya's mummy:
1. There is a thin layer of dried breastmilk/spit up covering nearly every surface of my house at this point. I have learned to accept it.
2. NEVER remove the dirty diaper from under baby's bum before there is a new one unwrapped and ready to go.
3. Meals just don't happen, at least for the first few weeks. It is imperative to have cupboards well stocked with snacks that can be eaten quickly with one hand and no utensils. Even cereal is too much to manage for the most part.
4. Take lots of pictures. Every day if possible. Babies really do change every day.
5. Keep trying on those baby outfits that are a bit too big. By the end of the week, they just might fit.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
milk machine has feelings too
I am lucky; Maya seems to be a very good eater, despite her constant spitting up my hard-earned breast milk. As of yesterday, she officially surpassed her birth weight which was cause for celebration all around.
I'm not sure if Maya knows I'm her mummy yet, but she has certainly figured out that I am the one with the milk. And milk she loves. Milk she demands. If I'm too slow on the draw, she will wave her ams and kick her legs in protest. And curse at me loudly in baby-ease. Just like her mum, Maya does not like to be made to wait.
When I am finally able to still her punching arms and get her to latch on to my breast, she'll immediately start voraciously hoovering up the milk like a wild animal who has gone all winter with nary a snack. She growl, grunt and gulp while she eats and sometimes she'll suck so very hard that it really does hurt. When she gets like that, I admit it: I am afraid of my baby.
The trick is to get her eating before she gets too frantic. That's not to say that she'll feed calmly, but at least my poor nips have a fighting chance. If she wakes from sleep only to discover a nice milky nipple in front of her, she tends to be a little bit more gentle. A little bit.
Maya also enjoys ripping farts while she eats. The more frantic the feeding fest, the more exuberant the farts. Sometimes she will fart so forcefully that she will shake one leg like a dog who is getting it's belly scratched. And there is always the delicious baby sigh that follows after the fart has been let loose, signifying the sweet relief she is experiencing. Breast milk is gassy and laxative by nature, and my baby is proof of that. Baby girl loves to fart. Her daddy is so proud.
The last step in feeding is the aftermath. Inevitably, after 30-45 minutes on the breast, Maya will usually spit up 30-45 times. I have actually wondered if she keeps any milk in her tummy at all. I don't see how there could be anything left after she's done spitting up. Last night, I fed her in bed and after she was finished, I cuddled her close to me and we enjoyed a sweet moment of mother-daughter bonding. It was pure poetry, her warm breath on my neck while I drank in her sweet smell with eyes closed. And then she farted. And after the fart, she then proceeded to projectile vomit what seemed like at least a half cup of milk all over my face and chest.
I am learning it's all par for the course when it comes to new motherhood. I am here solely to give, serve, dote on and attend to this little girl. And honestly, I love her so much I wouldn't have it any other way.
Ah...I hear the creature stirring now. Milk Machine to the rescue...
I'm not sure if Maya knows I'm her mummy yet, but she has certainly figured out that I am the one with the milk. And milk she loves. Milk she demands. If I'm too slow on the draw, she will wave her ams and kick her legs in protest. And curse at me loudly in baby-ease. Just like her mum, Maya does not like to be made to wait.
When I am finally able to still her punching arms and get her to latch on to my breast, she'll immediately start voraciously hoovering up the milk like a wild animal who has gone all winter with nary a snack. She growl, grunt and gulp while she eats and sometimes she'll suck so very hard that it really does hurt. When she gets like that, I admit it: I am afraid of my baby.
The trick is to get her eating before she gets too frantic. That's not to say that she'll feed calmly, but at least my poor nips have a fighting chance. If she wakes from sleep only to discover a nice milky nipple in front of her, she tends to be a little bit more gentle. A little bit.
Maya also enjoys ripping farts while she eats. The more frantic the feeding fest, the more exuberant the farts. Sometimes she will fart so forcefully that she will shake one leg like a dog who is getting it's belly scratched. And there is always the delicious baby sigh that follows after the fart has been let loose, signifying the sweet relief she is experiencing. Breast milk is gassy and laxative by nature, and my baby is proof of that. Baby girl loves to fart. Her daddy is so proud.
The last step in feeding is the aftermath. Inevitably, after 30-45 minutes on the breast, Maya will usually spit up 30-45 times. I have actually wondered if she keeps any milk in her tummy at all. I don't see how there could be anything left after she's done spitting up. Last night, I fed her in bed and after she was finished, I cuddled her close to me and we enjoyed a sweet moment of mother-daughter bonding. It was pure poetry, her warm breath on my neck while I drank in her sweet smell with eyes closed. And then she farted. And after the fart, she then proceeded to projectile vomit what seemed like at least a half cup of milk all over my face and chest.
I am learning it's all par for the course when it comes to new motherhood. I am here solely to give, serve, dote on and attend to this little girl. And honestly, I love her so much I wouldn't have it any other way.
Ah...I hear the creature stirring now. Milk Machine to the rescue...
Monday, September 1, 2008
very rude awakening - or - why beans are off the menu
Maya was a fussy little thing yesterday. She fed at around 2:00pm and I couldn't get her to calm down much after that. I don't think we finally got her to sleep until 8:00pm or so, which is unusual; for the most part she will sleep on and off every couple of hours.
I didn't make the connection until later that night - when she started ripping major farts - that she was probably gassy and uncomfortable. Another connection I failed to make was the fact that the bean and rice burrito I ate for lunch was likely what did her in. After carefully monitoring my diet to an insane degree during pregnancy, it never occurred to me that I'd have to watch what I ate after Maya was born. It was a lesson learned and I realize now I'd better think hard before I eat anything gas-producing for fear of what it will do to my baby.
In the middle of the night, around 4:00am, I heard Maya make a really big poo. I got up to change her, and just as I had removed her dirty diaper and started unwrapping a new diaper, she pooped again - but this time with so much force that it squirted ALL OVER ME AND THE BED. I am seriously lucky it didn't go in my mouth, it was that powerful. It was an incredible blast of poo. I had to yell at D to wake him up to help me get everything cleaned up. What a mess. And now, all our bedding is currently in the washer. You have to ask yourself how a sweet little week-old baby girl could do what she did. Again, I blame the bean and rice burrito. Never again!
---
Yesterday, Maya and I ventured out for the second time. We went to the natural foods market to pick up some Baby Vitamin D drops as instructed by the pediatrician at the hospital. I couldn't help but just gaze at my little baby snuggled in her stroller as I pushed her around. In that moment, like a ton of bricks, it hit me how deliriously and deliciously happy I am. All my dreams have come true in this little girl. I've been so busy during this first week, it hadn't really hit me that wow - I am finally a mother after all these years of waiting and wishing. I have everything I've ever wanted and I just can't imagine being any happier than I am right now. The love and devotion I feel for my daughter is like nothing I've ever known. This must be what heaven feels like.
I really am the luckiest girl in the world, even with the 4:00am poo shower.
I didn't make the connection until later that night - when she started ripping major farts - that she was probably gassy and uncomfortable. Another connection I failed to make was the fact that the bean and rice burrito I ate for lunch was likely what did her in. After carefully monitoring my diet to an insane degree during pregnancy, it never occurred to me that I'd have to watch what I ate after Maya was born. It was a lesson learned and I realize now I'd better think hard before I eat anything gas-producing for fear of what it will do to my baby.
In the middle of the night, around 4:00am, I heard Maya make a really big poo. I got up to change her, and just as I had removed her dirty diaper and started unwrapping a new diaper, she pooped again - but this time with so much force that it squirted ALL OVER ME AND THE BED. I am seriously lucky it didn't go in my mouth, it was that powerful. It was an incredible blast of poo. I had to yell at D to wake him up to help me get everything cleaned up. What a mess. And now, all our bedding is currently in the washer. You have to ask yourself how a sweet little week-old baby girl could do what she did. Again, I blame the bean and rice burrito. Never again!
---
Yesterday, Maya and I ventured out for the second time. We went to the natural foods market to pick up some Baby Vitamin D drops as instructed by the pediatrician at the hospital. I couldn't help but just gaze at my little baby snuggled in her stroller as I pushed her around. In that moment, like a ton of bricks, it hit me how deliriously and deliciously happy I am. All my dreams have come true in this little girl. I've been so busy during this first week, it hadn't really hit me that wow - I am finally a mother after all these years of waiting and wishing. I have everything I've ever wanted and I just can't imagine being any happier than I am right now. The love and devotion I feel for my daughter is like nothing I've ever known. This must be what heaven feels like.
I really am the luckiest girl in the world, even with the 4:00am poo shower.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
labour of love
Babies are hard work. Like really hard work. Duh. Just had to put that out there.
Breastfeeding challenges have continued, though they are getting better. Maya still has the occasional bloody meal, which I absolutely hate. She seems to be doing well on my breast milk, though; she seems content after feeds and sleeps well. The big test will be on Tuesday when Charlotte (our nurse) comes to weigh her. She has been down about 4% from her birth weight and I am really hoping she'll come up again by Tuesday.
Maya's umbilical cord fell off this morning. What a milestone! Now she has a real belly button and it's oh so cute. I considered taking pictures of it but I think I'm the only person who would enjoy them.
Things Maya likes:
1. Eating
2. Eating
3. Eating
4 Spitting up
5. Being swaddled
6. Making monster sounds
7. When I talk to her
8. Being cuddled in bed
Things Maya dislikes:
1. Waiting to eat
2. Wondering when that boob is coming
3. Waiting for mummy to take her shirt off and get that boob ready already
4. Waiting for the next meal
5. Being changed
6. Being naked
7. Being bathed
8. Being burped
Sorry for the disjointed post. My brain is all over the place this morning. Here are some photos from this week...
Baby Feet: I like them.
"Miss Spit Up Queen Vancouver 2008" (note the spit up on baby girl's right shoulder)
Maya and grandma (my mum)
Maya's first adventure going outside (we went to the drugstore for more diapers!)
Breastfeeding challenges have continued, though they are getting better. Maya still has the occasional bloody meal, which I absolutely hate. She seems to be doing well on my breast milk, though; she seems content after feeds and sleeps well. The big test will be on Tuesday when Charlotte (our nurse) comes to weigh her. She has been down about 4% from her birth weight and I am really hoping she'll come up again by Tuesday.
Maya's umbilical cord fell off this morning. What a milestone! Now she has a real belly button and it's oh so cute. I considered taking pictures of it but I think I'm the only person who would enjoy them.
Things Maya likes:
1. Eating
2. Eating
3. Eating
4 Spitting up
5. Being swaddled
6. Making monster sounds
7. When I talk to her
8. Being cuddled in bed
Things Maya dislikes:
1. Waiting to eat
2. Wondering when that boob is coming
3. Waiting for mummy to take her shirt off and get that boob ready already
4. Waiting for the next meal
5. Being changed
6. Being naked
7. Being bathed
8. Being burped
Sorry for the disjointed post. My brain is all over the place this morning. Here are some photos from this week...
Baby Feet: I like them.
"Miss Spit Up Queen Vancouver 2008" (note the spit up on baby girl's right shoulder)
Maya and grandma (my mum)
Maya's first adventure going outside (we went to the drugstore for more diapers!)
Friday, August 29, 2008
birth story
On Saturday August 23rd (40w6d), I woke up in tears because I still hadn't gone into labour and was certain I would have to be induced. My husband D tried to console me by reminding me that our long awaited baby girl was coming out by Wednesday, no matter what, and I should just try to focus on that. I decided that he was right and to get my mind off things by cleaning the house and going over to my parents' house for a visit.
By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was feeling much better. Weirdly calmer and more peaceful. I realized that there was nothing I could do so I may as well just try to relax.
I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since my membranes were stripped for the second time the day before. But they were generally irregular and mild so I wasn't paying much attention. At my parents' house I started noticing that they were happening about 6-8 minutes apart, but every so often I would skip a contraction altogether, so I didn't think anything significant was happening.
Wow was I wrong.
I stood up to leave to walk home from my parents' house. As I went from sitting to standing, I felt a trickle of what I thought was urine come out. I laughed and announced, "ooh, feels like I peed myself again!" This was an ongoing joke because I had developed a bit of incontinence since around 38 weeks. Late pregnancy is funny by nature, and when you've finally lost all dignity and can't put on your own socks, wipe your own ass or control your own bladder, it's time to laugh.
I walked home and went to the washroom. Usually, when I had an episode of incontinence, it was only a couple of drops at the most. But this time, I noticed it was more like a couple of tablespoons. I casually mentioned this little development to my husband and he said it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to call the hospital and check with them, just to be sure. I was totally certain I had only leaked pee but thought he was right, a call to the hospital was probably prudent. Better safe than sorry, I thought.
So I called and talked the the doctor on call. He said, "at 41 weeks, leaking fluid is largely academic, especially if you're GBS negative. However, it would be my recommendation to have you come in to be assessed so we can see what's what." I am laughing at myself now because my first thought was, "But I have dinner reservations!"
I called my dad and asked him if he could drive me to the hospital for a quick check up. D decided not to join us for our hospital excursion because he had worked hard that morning and had just got home. And honestly, neither one of us had anticipated the craziness that was about to happen.
My dad showed up about 15 minutes later and we headed for the hospital. As we were driving over the Granville Street bridge, I felt a two weird "clicks" in my pelvic floor. It felt like something had suddenly popped. Before I knew what was happening, warm fluid just started gushing out of me. Gushing. Uncontrollably. Tons of fluid. All over my dad's Lexus. Fluid everywhere, on the seat, the floor mats, my clothes. My water had broken.
I started freaking out, shouting, "Dad! We need to get to the hospital now! Drive faster!" I called my husband on the way and told him what was happening. I think he was shocked. I was too. I couldn't believe that my water broke. It was all so surreal.
Dad and I arrived at the hospital about 10 minutes later. Meanwhile, fluid was still pouring out. I am not exaggerating when I say that there was probably over a gallon of amniotic fluid gushing out of me. When I got to the assessment room, they had to follow me around with a mop. I changed into a gown right away and they got me checked into an exam room for assessment. The contractions - the REAL contractions - started happening right away. I went from zero to a thousand in terms of pain in about 5 minutes. I'm not sure, but I think when your water breaks, you kinda skip the first two stages of labour and pretty well go straight into transition. I felt like my body was being ripped in half and I was screaming, crying, foaming at the mouth even before the doctor could come in to check me out.
Finally, after what felt like a week, the doctor arrived and did a quick exam. He said, "Well, your cervix is only dilated to about 2cm, so my recommendation would be for you to go back home and come back in a few hours and we'll check you again to see where you're at." As if possessed by a demon, my head spun around and I snarled back, "There is NO F-ING WAY I could get in a car right now, please let me stay!" I remember the doctor sighing and saying, "OK. You're obviously in a lot of pain. We'll bring you some gas and you can stay. But I have to warn you, this is just the beginning of your labour. You probably won't be giving birth for at least another 12 to 20 hours. But I'll come back to check your cervix in about 30 minutes and we'll see how you're progressing, sound good?" I am quite sure I spit out some obscenity in his direction. Meanwhile, my dad raced home to pick up my husband, my mom and the birth bags.
The nurse brought me a birth ball and some nitrous oxide. The gas didn't even come close to touching the pain, all it did was make me feel stoned and help me to not panic as much in between contractions. I didn't like it. Every minute that passed was absolutely pure hell. I was screaming bloody murder for an epidural.
The doctor came back 30 minutes later as promised. A quick cervical check revealed that in 30 minutes, I had dilated to 5cm, much to the surprise of everyone. The doctor admitted that it was good I didn't go home because this baby was coming - and fast! The epidural was ordered, the delivery room was readied, and by the time they hooked me up to all the machines and and the IV, everything started happening. Within about an hour I was fully dilated and ready to start pushing.
And push I did. For about an hour. D coached me all the way through it, he did such a great job. The nurses and doctor were amazing, and I felt very supported. They offered me the mirror so I could watch my baby being born. At first I declined, but then I changed my mind and asked for it. And I'm so glad I did. It was so incredible to watch my own baby's birth, and it was an incredible motivational tool for pushing. With every contraction and every push, I could see Maya's head coming down further and further. It was happening!
On Sunday, August 24th at 2:03am, our daughter Maya was born. 7 pounds, 10 ounces, 20 inches long. Gorgeous and perfect in every way. My dreams all came true in that instant.
And now, we start a new life with our long awaited baby girl. This new blog will serve as a journal of sorts, so that I can record and remember the details - big and small - of how it feels to be a new mum. Maya's mum.
Here we go.
By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was feeling much better. Weirdly calmer and more peaceful. I realized that there was nothing I could do so I may as well just try to relax.
I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since my membranes were stripped for the second time the day before. But they were generally irregular and mild so I wasn't paying much attention. At my parents' house I started noticing that they were happening about 6-8 minutes apart, but every so often I would skip a contraction altogether, so I didn't think anything significant was happening.
Wow was I wrong.
I stood up to leave to walk home from my parents' house. As I went from sitting to standing, I felt a trickle of what I thought was urine come out. I laughed and announced, "ooh, feels like I peed myself again!" This was an ongoing joke because I had developed a bit of incontinence since around 38 weeks. Late pregnancy is funny by nature, and when you've finally lost all dignity and can't put on your own socks, wipe your own ass or control your own bladder, it's time to laugh.
I walked home and went to the washroom. Usually, when I had an episode of incontinence, it was only a couple of drops at the most. But this time, I noticed it was more like a couple of tablespoons. I casually mentioned this little development to my husband and he said it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to call the hospital and check with them, just to be sure. I was totally certain I had only leaked pee but thought he was right, a call to the hospital was probably prudent. Better safe than sorry, I thought.
So I called and talked the the doctor on call. He said, "at 41 weeks, leaking fluid is largely academic, especially if you're GBS negative. However, it would be my recommendation to have you come in to be assessed so we can see what's what." I am laughing at myself now because my first thought was, "But I have dinner reservations!"
I called my dad and asked him if he could drive me to the hospital for a quick check up. D decided not to join us for our hospital excursion because he had worked hard that morning and had just got home. And honestly, neither one of us had anticipated the craziness that was about to happen.
My dad showed up about 15 minutes later and we headed for the hospital. As we were driving over the Granville Street bridge, I felt a two weird "clicks" in my pelvic floor. It felt like something had suddenly popped. Before I knew what was happening, warm fluid just started gushing out of me. Gushing. Uncontrollably. Tons of fluid. All over my dad's Lexus. Fluid everywhere, on the seat, the floor mats, my clothes. My water had broken.
I started freaking out, shouting, "Dad! We need to get to the hospital now! Drive faster!" I called my husband on the way and told him what was happening. I think he was shocked. I was too. I couldn't believe that my water broke. It was all so surreal.
Dad and I arrived at the hospital about 10 minutes later. Meanwhile, fluid was still pouring out. I am not exaggerating when I say that there was probably over a gallon of amniotic fluid gushing out of me. When I got to the assessment room, they had to follow me around with a mop. I changed into a gown right away and they got me checked into an exam room for assessment. The contractions - the REAL contractions - started happening right away. I went from zero to a thousand in terms of pain in about 5 minutes. I'm not sure, but I think when your water breaks, you kinda skip the first two stages of labour and pretty well go straight into transition. I felt like my body was being ripped in half and I was screaming, crying, foaming at the mouth even before the doctor could come in to check me out.
Finally, after what felt like a week, the doctor arrived and did a quick exam. He said, "Well, your cervix is only dilated to about 2cm, so my recommendation would be for you to go back home and come back in a few hours and we'll check you again to see where you're at." As if possessed by a demon, my head spun around and I snarled back, "There is NO F-ING WAY I could get in a car right now, please let me stay!" I remember the doctor sighing and saying, "OK. You're obviously in a lot of pain. We'll bring you some gas and you can stay. But I have to warn you, this is just the beginning of your labour. You probably won't be giving birth for at least another 12 to 20 hours. But I'll come back to check your cervix in about 30 minutes and we'll see how you're progressing, sound good?" I am quite sure I spit out some obscenity in his direction. Meanwhile, my dad raced home to pick up my husband, my mom and the birth bags.
The nurse brought me a birth ball and some nitrous oxide. The gas didn't even come close to touching the pain, all it did was make me feel stoned and help me to not panic as much in between contractions. I didn't like it. Every minute that passed was absolutely pure hell. I was screaming bloody murder for an epidural.
The doctor came back 30 minutes later as promised. A quick cervical check revealed that in 30 minutes, I had dilated to 5cm, much to the surprise of everyone. The doctor admitted that it was good I didn't go home because this baby was coming - and fast! The epidural was ordered, the delivery room was readied, and by the time they hooked me up to all the machines and and the IV, everything started happening. Within about an hour I was fully dilated and ready to start pushing.
And push I did. For about an hour. D coached me all the way through it, he did such a great job. The nurses and doctor were amazing, and I felt very supported. They offered me the mirror so I could watch my baby being born. At first I declined, but then I changed my mind and asked for it. And I'm so glad I did. It was so incredible to watch my own baby's birth, and it was an incredible motivational tool for pushing. With every contraction and every push, I could see Maya's head coming down further and further. It was happening!
On Sunday, August 24th at 2:03am, our daughter Maya was born. 7 pounds, 10 ounces, 20 inches long. Gorgeous and perfect in every way. My dreams all came true in that instant.
And now, we start a new life with our long awaited baby girl. This new blog will serve as a journal of sorts, so that I can record and remember the details - big and small - of how it feels to be a new mum. Maya's mum.
Here we go.
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