Hellobee

With the chill of the morning air coming through our open bedroom windows, I got dressed in my “labour outfit,” which had been hanging on my closet door for weeks waiting for the natural beginning of labour to take place. I wanted to feel like myself and look like myself even though the fact that I was going in to the hospital that day to have a baby seemed very odd to me.  Dressed  in my navy chevron skirt and a white t-shirt, I helped my husband load up the car with our hospital bags just in case. The car seat was already in place in its base.

The lobby of the hospital was very quiet that morning because it was a holiday and two nurses actually laughed and smiled at us as we checked in, saying to us that we must be here to be induced. At 40 week and 6 days my belly was quite the sight! We headed up to the second floor and two nurses greeted me and asked me to get changed into my hospital gown so they could monitor our little one before the procedure. I remember standing in that tiny washroom and looking in the mirror at how blue my eyes were. I have no idea why it was so surprising to me, but I stood there and stared for a moment or two wondering if my little girl would have the same eyes.

After 30 minutes of listening to our babies’ heartbeat later, we headed in for the foley induction procedure and were out and back on the monitors before I knew it. At another time, I want to write a full post about my experience with a foley induction. I will say in the meantime however, that the procedure itself was no big deal for me. Before we left the hospital 30 minutes later to head home and wait, I had already started having contractions.

Then the waiting game started. I relaxed at home all day, trying to keep calm and at one point I did manage to fall asleep for about an hour. The whole process was quite surreal to me and still is looking back on it. I watched Olympic event after Olympic event as my contractions came and went. Eventually, mostly to focus on something, I started to time them on my phone.

I wondered out loud to my husband if I would make it until the morning when they called me back in to check how much I had progressed. I had dinner, a shower and tried to lay down to sleep, but at around 1 am the pain kept me standing and trying to breathe through the contractions as they came and went every two minutes or so. I eventually woke up my husband at around quarter to two, and after some considering we headed to the hospital.

As I  got dressed, I tried to concentrate on breathing and was coming in and out of what I now call Momma consciousness. Momma consciousness can only be described as similar to that exact moment when you realize that you have fallen asleep and you jerk awake. The contraction would come and I would lose all ability to be aware of the world around me. I would close my eyes and breathe as slowly as I could and then when it had passed, I would return to my own body again. I never realized that between contractions I would feel so normal. It is such an odd sensation to have something so unique and intense happening in your body, only to be followed by total normality.

We climbed into the car for the short trip and I struggled to get comfortable, wishing I could get up and walk around. As we neared the hospital, I remember the street lights flashing in the windows; the same ones that would shine in our car windows on the night we brought Norah home. I remember thinking how peaceful all the houses looked, dark and closed up for the night and I longed to be home in my own bed, but knew that it was no longer an option.

We arrived at the hospital and we were once again greeted by quiet. We immediately went upstairs and returned to the triage area where I had been just yesterday morning. A nurse was eating her lunch, and there were distant pings of machines, but not the rush you would imagine on the labour and delivery floor. I once again changed into a  blue hospital gown and laid down on the bed under the blaring fluorescent lights. The machines were hooked up and once again the small curtained area was flooded with the sound of my little girl’s heartbeat.

The nurses checked me and although they could feel the head, they could not tell how dilated I was. However, one quick tug and the folly came out so that was a good sign. My contractions came and went quickly, but I could feel myself relax as I had made it here and things were happening. The decision came from the doctor on call — I would be admitted. The relief washed over me as I started the slow walk with my husband to our labour and birthing suite. A nurse smiled at me as we passed the nurses’ station. Little did I know at the time that she would be the nurse that would care for me for the next few hours — the one who would hold my hand as the epidural was put in and keep me laughing for the next few hours until her shift ended.

I can remember the chill that was in the air in the hallway and thinking how lovely it would be inside come the afternoon, as the weather was calling for humid and hot temperatures. I never thought I would consider a hospital so comforting, but in that moment to me it was a five star hotel and I was its star visitor. Our room, where we would spend our next day and half, was ready for us. Lights dimmed and the television was on quietly in the background. The night sky was a dark black outside the curtains.

I laid on the hospital bed and for the next hour or so my husband and I answered questions. Was I diabetic? Did I have any trouble with my pregnancy? Had I traveled to any other countries in the past two weeks? Had I been exposed to mumps or chicken pox? The questions blurred together as I shook my head no, time after time pausing every two minutes to breathe through a powerful contraction travelling through my body. What do they feel like? It’s difficult to really compare them to anything, but they begin as tightening and then progress to something I would relate to a long muscle spasm. With my eyes closed, and my hand squeezing my husband’s the nurse talked me through it… long deep breaths…

“What is your birth plan? ”

“Healthy baby and epidural please and thank you”

The nurse laughed gently.

The doctor that administered my epidural was about one hundred and three. Seriously. He was a great- randfather as I learned through our chats during the procedure. However he was gentle and kind and clearly very knowledgeable. We talked about the fact that he was a twin and his mother gave birth to them in a farm house, that he liked cats and thought they were much more intelligent then we give them credit for and of course, we are Canadian after all, the weather.

The epidural did take longer then I would have expected, but the most difficult part of it was that my husband had to leave. My constant supporter through the process, it was difficult to see him go even for just an hour. Once the dose was appropriate, the epidural was wonderful and I was able to relax and try to wrap my head around what was happening. The Dr wished me the best and said he’d see me back next year with the twins. Ha!

They checked me again and I was 4 to 5 cm dilated and in active labour.

At this point they started a pitocin drip and things started to progress quickly. At around 8 o’clock they checked me again and I was 6 cm dilated. I kept telling myself to close my eyes and try to get some rest but as I watched the sun rise and shine strong beams through the windows, I was far too scared, anxious and excited to think about sleep.

My parents came by to visit and I thought about what an unusual sight I must have been for them. Still dressed in my hospital gown, I was propped up on a large bean bag sitting cross legged to help the baby drop. Despite how it sounds, it was actually rather comfortable. The contractions came and went frequently while they visited, and my Dad watched the monitor nervously as they made “mountains” on the paper. He asked me several times if I could feel it, and I replied that yes I could but it wasn’t painful — just a reminder of what my body was doing. The Olympics played softly in the background and I found the bike racing in the Olympic Pringle to be quite relaxing to focus on. My parents had brought breakfast for my husband and I looked longingly at the tea as I snacked on my ice chips.The conversation was light, the room peaceful and I finally was able to close my eyes and listen happily for a short time. That was the last rest I would get for quite a while.

Before long my new nurse came to check me again for progress and I was fully dilated. My doctor arrived to check how I was and she brought a medical student with her who had never seen a birth take place before. When she checked the baby’s position and my water broke, the look on her face was one I will never forget! Let’s just say I don’t think she will be choosing obstetrics as her future career path!

My doctor told me that she would return soon for delivery and that I should rest for a few minutes. I would be pushing soon I told myself and tried to ready myself for the adventure to come. The room began to be set up. Tables of instruments and sterilized items were wheeled in and the overhead lights, not unlike those at a movie theater, turned on.

My husband and my wonderful nurse helped me put my legs up in the stirrups. My left leg, completely numb from the epidural at this point, felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I remember my husband putting lip balm on my lips for me — the best thing I had put in my hospital bag.

“When you feel a contraction coming, take a deep breath, grab the back of your legs and push for 10 seconds, breathe again and push once more…”

It was the hardest work I have ever done, and yet it felt so natural and relieving to do it.

After pushing for about 2 and half hours, I started to have some pain in my right leg, like a strong cramp that wouldn’t go away. They shifted my position and nothing. I couldn’t push anymore because of the pain and it frightened me. There was talk about the baby’s heartbeat. I felt panicked. I was tired and the pushing was getting more and more difficult. However, I knew what I needed to do.

My doctor arrived again and asked me once again to push. With a burst of adrenaline I pushed as hard as I could and soon after, during a water polo match on the television, our little one arrived at 3:57 pm — the time my life changed forever.

Hello there little Tea cup! Welcome to the world!

My first moments as a Mom!