Posts
Big Boo Cast: Episode 421
3 days ago
Is it only me?
Sometimes I do have to wonder at myself. Am I the only one who does weird things? ok, ok, not just normal weird things, but, like, really weird things.
Last night, for example, a group of girlfriends and I were planning on hitting the movies...Twilight: New Moon (yes, I'm that kind of loser and you still love me).
My first thought wasn't on food, or transportation or timing; no...'cause that would be *normal*. My first thought was on what kind of chair the movie theater has.
No really, I'm serious.
The kind of chairs a movie theater has is a vitally important bit of information!!! This essential, critical, vital, indispensable, crucial, and for lack of a better word, all consuming bit of information is needed to determine...
which pair of underwear to wear.
Think about it for a second. Women have such a vast plethora of underwear styles to choose from, and to be frank not all of them are suitable for every activity.
Thongs? Not for marathons.
Granny panties? Not for anniversary dinners.
Boy shorts? Not for movie theaters!
Most older movie theaters have chairs without the additional head support, causing most normal people to alternate between a slouched, head-resting-on-the-back position, and sitting upright to relieve back crampage.
Am I right or am I right?
This constant sliding up and down friction (while enjoyable, but that's for another blog entry!) on the buttocks area really affects the undies abilities to stay OUT of the butt crack! Boy shorts, not having that bottom elastic, just really cannot cling for life, like a good granny panty can.
And have you ever tried to pick a wedgie in a movie theater? Not comfortable!!
Really, it's all very logical, if yes, weird. Older theater = granny panties. No and's if's or but(t)'s about it!
Last night, for example, a group of girlfriends and I were planning on hitting the movies...Twilight: New Moon (yes, I'm that kind of loser and you still love me).
My first thought wasn't on food, or transportation or timing; no...'cause that would be *normal*. My first thought was on what kind of chair the movie theater has.
No really, I'm serious.
The kind of chairs a movie theater has is a vitally important bit of information!!! This essential, critical, vital, indispensable, crucial, and for lack of a better word, all consuming bit of information is needed to determine...
which pair of underwear to wear.
Think about it for a second. Women have such a vast plethora of underwear styles to choose from, and to be frank not all of them are suitable for every activity.
Thongs? Not for marathons.
Granny panties? Not for anniversary dinners.
Boy shorts? Not for movie theaters!
Most older movie theaters have chairs without the additional head support, causing most normal people to alternate between a slouched, head-resting-on-the-back position, and sitting upright to relieve back crampage.
Am I right or am I right?
This constant sliding up and down friction (while enjoyable, but that's for another blog entry!) on the buttocks area really affects the undies abilities to stay OUT of the butt crack! Boy shorts, not having that bottom elastic, just really cannot cling for life, like a good granny panty can.
And have you ever tried to pick a wedgie in a movie theater? Not comfortable!!
Really, it's all very logical, if yes, weird. Older theater = granny panties. No and's if's or but(t)'s about it!
Our feeding Triad
When my son, our first, was born he wanted to get right down to business. I swear he came out shouting "Boob, mother, boob me now!" And boob him I did, after spending vital minutes trying to figure out how to hold this itty bitty newborn, and then how to hold these not so itty bitty...big boobs. Yeah. I remember having a blind faith in the simple equation of baby + breasts = happiness. For me, what was not factored into that was learning how to *hold* the baby to make the baby + breast = happiness equation as effortless as it looked on TV and in books.
First, i tried the cradle hold. The hold that is immortalized in paintings such as "The virgin with the green pillow" by 16th century painter Solario. One has got to reason that if the hold's been around for at least 500 years, it has to work, right? Well. Not so much for us endowed breastfeeders. Unknowingly I had entered the boobmuda triangle. The desire and commitment to breastfeed, but the lack of knowledge on how to do so.
To my rescue came not a shiny knight in armour (and let's be frank, who wants knights in armour when you're just pushed out a bouncing watermelon size child through your lady bits, after sweating and swearing for 26 hours? Not me!) but rather a Lactation Consultant who took one look at me, one look at my husband and introduced us to each other all over again. "Wife, meet husband. Husband, meet wife. Together you are now going to feed your child!"
Wait, what?
"You, you and you, cutie pattotie (not the husband, thankfully), are now a feeding Triad. Congratulations!"
The Lactation Consultant Goddess handed our son to my husband, handed a stack of pillows to me and got us set up in what we both soon learned were our "positions". Me, pillows built up to support the baby and my generous mammary glands, and my husband, in charge of positioning and holding our son where he had to be until we got the act on the road.
I know, isn't simplicity awe-inspiring?!
My husband, the maker of half this child, had a role in feeding our son! A vital role, one in which you could just see him puff up in pride! And me, his loved wife, had a partner to help figure out how object A inserts into slot B while supporting objects C, D, and E.
That first time was magic. Once I was positioned, my husband brought over our son and held him in the football hold which I got lined up and latched on and then he made sure he was fully supported while I learned how to tuck his bum into my side with my elbow and cradle his head in one hand. I could not have done it solo, there were just too many things to hold onto in those early days, and worrying about dropping my brand spanking new child was not something my hormone flooded brain needed to be worried about!
We soon settled into a routine, and we all thrived by working together. My husband wasn't left to sulk in the corner while I "bonded" solo with our son. His role left him feeling involved, and needed and all the other good stuff that new Dads sometimes are missing. I loved the fact that at our son's first hint of hunger, my husband was eager to get us set up in our triade and feed his son. My Husband wasn't just any old guy - to his son he was the bringer of the food!
Those first few days flew by, as all moms know, and I soon found myself more adept at baby wrangling and tucking in arms and legs and lining up nose to nipple. Slowly my husband was able to take a step back and watch us soar high, just my son and I.
The thing was...even once I could do it all solo, my husband was so integral to our nursing relationship that he picked up other jobs. Finding my nursing pillow. Changing mid-feed diapers to help keep sleepy babies awake. Writing down feeding times and lengths to show the midwife. Tickling toes, massaging shoulders and finally just being in awe that his help had made it possible for his son to get the best start in life with a minimal stress on his wife.
I know, isn't simplicity awe-inspiring?!
Almost 4 years later, my husband still speaks proudly of our Feeding Triade. And I get to share with new dads that breastfeeding doesn't have to be all about mom and baby. They still need, and want, you.
Want to know more about Natural parenting, breastfeeding and cloth diapering? Check out one of my favourite sites, www.parentingbynature.com
and www.ecobabysteps.com
First, i tried the cradle hold. The hold that is immortalized in paintings such as "The virgin with the green pillow" by 16th century painter Solario. One has got to reason that if the hold's been around for at least 500 years, it has to work, right? Well. Not so much for us endowed breastfeeders. Unknowingly I had entered the boobmuda triangle. The desire and commitment to breastfeed, but the lack of knowledge on how to do so.
To my rescue came not a shiny knight in armour (and let's be frank, who wants knights in armour when you're just pushed out a bouncing watermelon size child through your lady bits, after sweating and swearing for 26 hours? Not me!) but rather a Lactation Consultant who took one look at me, one look at my husband and introduced us to each other all over again. "Wife, meet husband. Husband, meet wife. Together you are now going to feed your child!"
Wait, what?
"You, you and you, cutie pattotie (not the husband, thankfully), are now a feeding Triad. Congratulations!"
The Lactation Consultant Goddess handed our son to my husband, handed a stack of pillows to me and got us set up in what we both soon learned were our "positions". Me, pillows built up to support the baby and my generous mammary glands, and my husband, in charge of positioning and holding our son where he had to be until we got the act on the road.
I know, isn't simplicity awe-inspiring?!
My husband, the maker of half this child, had a role in feeding our son! A vital role, one in which you could just see him puff up in pride! And me, his loved wife, had a partner to help figure out how object A inserts into slot B while supporting objects C, D, and E.
That first time was magic. Once I was positioned, my husband brought over our son and held him in the football hold which I got lined up and latched on and then he made sure he was fully supported while I learned how to tuck his bum into my side with my elbow and cradle his head in one hand. I could not have done it solo, there were just too many things to hold onto in those early days, and worrying about dropping my brand spanking new child was not something my hormone flooded brain needed to be worried about!
We soon settled into a routine, and we all thrived by working together. My husband wasn't left to sulk in the corner while I "bonded" solo with our son. His role left him feeling involved, and needed and all the other good stuff that new Dads sometimes are missing. I loved the fact that at our son's first hint of hunger, my husband was eager to get us set up in our triade and feed his son. My Husband wasn't just any old guy - to his son he was the bringer of the food!
Those first few days flew by, as all moms know, and I soon found myself more adept at baby wrangling and tucking in arms and legs and lining up nose to nipple. Slowly my husband was able to take a step back and watch us soar high, just my son and I.
The thing was...even once I could do it all solo, my husband was so integral to our nursing relationship that he picked up other jobs. Finding my nursing pillow. Changing mid-feed diapers to help keep sleepy babies awake. Writing down feeding times and lengths to show the midwife. Tickling toes, massaging shoulders and finally just being in awe that his help had made it possible for his son to get the best start in life with a minimal stress on his wife.
I know, isn't simplicity awe-inspiring?!
Almost 4 years later, my husband still speaks proudly of our Feeding Triade. And I get to share with new dads that breastfeeding doesn't have to be all about mom and baby. They still need, and want, you.
Want to know more about Natural parenting, breastfeeding and cloth diapering? Check out one of my favourite sites, www.parentingbynature.com
and www.ecobabysteps.com
A really useful engine...err...costume
I don't like to toot my own horn...much...but in this case, I feel obliged. I deserve it 'yo. Cause I am THAT good, I tell you.
This, here, is the product of hours and hours of sweat. tears. blood and yes, swearing. I earned a new brownie badge... Hand to hand combat with a temperamental (my guess is hormonal) hot glue gun. My nemesis. Arch nemesis if you will. We danced the funky chicken and I emerged victorious!!
Here that glue gun?! I WON!! wipe that smirk off your little glue gun face, I won baby, i won. But yeah, I do have my war wounds. 8 war wounds, nice shiny burn marks.
The things I do for my loved ones, i swear.
Shit happens
Today, my son was bitten while at Preschool.
Today, we both learned some things about people.
I learned that no matter how protective I am of my son, and no matter how much I love him, he will still get hurt.
My son learned that playing with others can sometimes bite you in the ass...err...arm. While I do wish neither of us had ever had to learn these lessons, after some angry words and even angrier thoughts, I realized I have to keep in mind that I am thankful my son was able to live for 3 1/2 years without that lesson. And I had 3 1/2 blissful years where I was blissfully naive enough to think that I could ALWAYS protect my son.
But I can't.
He's growing up
And you know what? That sucks.
So. Today. Shit happened.
What matters now is what we do with the things that today offered us, good AND bad.
There is no logical explanation for this.
This...this is a praying mantis.
In my backyard.
In October. Mid October.
In Canada
(that's in the northern hemisphere, just so's we're clear)
Never, EVA in my many years walking these streets, have I ever seen a praying mantis. Until this little guy started insisting that my kids outdoor playhouse was *his* house, thankyouverymuch, goodbye.
wait, what?
yeah, dude was all macho trying to get us to leave his little green butt alone. I tried to point out to him that he would fit comfortably under my big, descending foot, but he dissented.
So the big softie that I am, I used the fly swatter to....move him. yes, move him, I promise! He now resides under my sage plant.
He's a weird dude.
*edit*
Do yourself a favour, and do not wiki praying mantis. The words "sexual cannibalism" should never ever be linked. Ever. like...ever. Save yourself, and you sex life. No wiki-ing, please. You're welcome.
Life is like a china tea cup.
There's nothing stopping you using it everyday but fear.
haha, got you there, didn't I? Ok, so I am no philosopher ut I sure do love my formal china, and since I had some pieces out taking pictures of it, I thought I'd try and be all philosophical and impress you. So...did I? Impress you?
No?
well. Tough crowd!
Wait, can one person be classified as a crowd? I'd like a verdict on that when you get a moment. Thanks.
no? well. tough person!
So. Did you miss me? Mourn my long absence? Tear your hair out, bite your nails to the quick?
no?
well. Tough crowd!
I've been...well, I've been right here, at my new house, just not blogging. Why, I have no real reason. Procrastination, business, laziness...yup, all of the above. It's classic me - go gung ho into something, then drop it like a hot potato. My bad. Did that with student politics in University. Drawing. Knitting. Personal hygiene. ha! Kidding...on that last one. Promise.
I'm clean, I swear! My pits smell...yum, vanilla.
ok, ew. sorry.
Was there even a point to this? I'm feeling all discombobulated. ohhh, fun word. AND I spelt it without aid. I'm a rockstar, I know.
wait, what was I saying? I'm confused. Confused should be my middle name.
Red Confused Canuck.
Has a certain ring to it, doens't it?
The "Mommy, make "him" STOP!" face.
or maybe...
The "mommy, put down the black box and pick me UP!" face
...or both. They kinda blend together, lol
We have arrived, oh we have arrived!
The day I have been waiting for for about14 3/4 months. ponytail.
WOOT WOOT!!
ok, so it's a pretty sorry excuse for ponytail, and it was ripped out by it's wearer nanoseconds after this picture, but it was there. It was photographed. Therefor...
it counts!!
Isn't it cute?
I've been dreaming about the ponytail days since this little muchkin shot straight outta my girlie bits. The ponytail. and then in a bit we'll graduate to the frenchbraid (*shivers of excitement*) and then...wait for it, wait for it...NAILS!
I love having a daughter :D
Oh yes I did!!
All that glorious red goodness is indeed what you think it is.
Prime, in season, local strawberry JAM!! Which I made all by myself!
...with my MIL's help, of course, lol. what, you think I'm superwoman or something? Ha! Nope, just superwoman-in-training
Now that my freezer is stocked full of glorious red goodness, I can cross jam making off my life's list, and proclaim myself an expert!
P.S - Do experts wear white shirts while making bright red strawberry jam?
Dog Psychiatrist?
I have no doubt there is such a thing. I know dog people. You all are a crazy bunch of mofo's, did you know that? Cause ya'ar. You crazy nutbars. C-razy with a capital C. Back away slowly and show no fear kinda crazies. Oh yes you are and YOU KNOW IT. Which is why I have no doubt there are Dog Psychiatrists. The rest of you "norms" (aka not dog obsessed people) aren't surprised either, eh? haha, didn't think so.
You know what else might not surprise you? That I had a long and in depth conversation with this beauty's "parents" *cough cough owner cough cough*. We talked about how the poor guy has some issues. He has some Identity issues. You see, people... mean, ignorant non-dog people...think he's a Mixed breed Dalmatian.
*gasp*
*choke*
*sputter*
*wheeze*
I know, *I* might need a psychiatrist now too.
Orrrr not.
Yup, poor guy just cannot shake that "D" label. How horrible life must be to always be thought of as inferior, not what you truly are. The shame, the confusion. Makes you want to cry.
orrrr not.
But still. He's pretty damn gorgeous, even if he's not even a fraction Dalmatian!
Har har, i kid I kid.
You're the dog buddy, YOU da dog. You big ol' Great Dane you
Oh yes he did!!
I am the cool mom.
I encourage my son to jump in muddy puddles.
He damn well better remember that I am the cool mom in the throws of teenagehood. Maybe that's why i take the pictures. To remind him I am the cool mom and he needs to be nice to me.
I also let my kids eat chocolate cake for morning snack
TOLD you I was the cool mom.
Do yourself a favour.
Tonight, after dinner, before you wash any dishes...
Throw your damp sponge in the microwave for a minute
It'll kill all those nasties living in those enticing little holes. Ew nasties.
And while you're at it, do ME a favour and come wash my dishes, M'kay?
Damn those nonstick pans that can't go in the dishwasher!!!
Throw your damp sponge in the microwave for a minute
It'll kill all those nasties living in those enticing little holes. Ew nasties.
And while you're at it, do ME a favour and come wash my dishes, M'kay?
Damn those nonstick pans that can't go in the dishwasher!!!
"They" say...
Who "they" are is still a mystery to me, but "they" might have this one right.
People look like their dogs.
I am now very confident in this assessment. (haha, I wrote out ass). You see, this past saturday I had the honour, nay the priviledge (name that movie!) to be one of the hordes that attended Toronto's "Woofstock".
Are you done laughing yet?
How about now?
Ok, good.
Woofstock was actually really cool. Even given the fact that we, I, do not own a dog. But my big brother does, and he came with us, so we had dogs by proxy. Except when I attempted to get him to change Miss A's diaper citing the proxy argument he shot me down, so it might not stand up in court. He's an almost dr you know.
But I digress.
There were dogs. Dogs as far as the eye could see. 
Much to my amusement, the hubs and I soon started a "find it's owner" game where we matched the crazy ass owners with their dogs.
I know, we're cool.
This dude up there? Yeah, BINGO!!
Check out this guy.
He's got the sappy "love me or I'll DIE!" golden retriever face down nicely, eh?
This dude...well, he was just plain scary. And his dog could lick my sunglasses clean, so to say he was a bit intimidating was putting it lightly. They went together well
Which brings us to these beauties. 
Cute, aren't they?
Hairy, aren't they?
Red, aren't they?
who on earth could these hairy red furballs belong to?
3 guesses, and the first two don't count.
If you guess my big brother, you are RIGHT!!! Cute, hairy and red...Just a bit of resemblance, no?
If you guess someone else, dude, you suck.
I am no longer a loser...or would that be anti-establishment
I signed up for itunes.
Yes, I did it, I gave in. I now pay for my music. I gladly join the masses of teenie boppers and geriatrics worldwide that buy music online.
*sigh*
When did I get this old?
Since I already opened myself up to countless hours of teasing, ribbing, sassing and outright hate mail, I may as well strip naked and show you...
my play list, you dirty birds.
Prepare to laugh your ass off and feel far, far superior to me. It's ok, I allow it.
I kissed a girl - katy perry
Boom Boom Pow - Black eye peas
I know you want me - Pitbull
Disturbia - Rhianna
Single ladies - Beyonce
Naughty girl - Beyonce
Amazing - Janelle (for my daughter's Slide show)
Circus - Britney Spears
Give me more - Britney Spears
Bill Withers – Ain’t no sunshine
Katrina and the waves – walking on sunshine
Elizabeth Mitchell – you are my sunshine
Lenard Skynard – Sweet home Alabama
The temptations – my girl
Jet – are you gonna be my girl
Ray Orbison – Pretty Woman
ColdPlay – Fix you
I"m going to go curl up in bed in shame. While listening to my rockin' new playlist. And then tomorrow, when I'm working out to my new playlist, I shall laugh. And maybe cry a little, cause working out sucks.
Yes, I did it, I gave in. I now pay for my music. I gladly join the masses of teenie boppers and geriatrics worldwide that buy music online.
*sigh*
When did I get this old?
Since I already opened myself up to countless hours of teasing, ribbing, sassing and outright hate mail, I may as well strip naked and show you...
my play list, you dirty birds.
Prepare to laugh your ass off and feel far, far superior to me. It's ok, I allow it.
I kissed a girl - katy perry
Boom Boom Pow - Black eye peas
I know you want me - Pitbull
Disturbia - Rhianna
Single ladies - Beyonce
Naughty girl - Beyonce
Amazing - Janelle (for my daughter's Slide show)
Circus - Britney Spears
Give me more - Britney Spears
Bill Withers – Ain’t no sunshine
Katrina and the waves – walking on sunshine
Elizabeth Mitchell – you are my sunshine
Lenard Skynard – Sweet home Alabama
The temptations – my girl
Jet – are you gonna be my girl
Ray Orbison – Pretty Woman
ColdPlay – Fix you
I"m going to go curl up in bed in shame. While listening to my rockin' new playlist. And then tomorrow, when I'm working out to my new playlist, I shall laugh. And maybe cry a little, cause working out sucks.
Continuing the pink powder puff motif...
I present you with how her royal highness travels - in style. Only the best for Ms. Pink, with her driver, her fearless older brother, driving her to the party.
Having an older brother myself, I applaud her early, and consistent, training of her big brother. He doesn't see it, but as a younger sister I certainly do. It starts innocently enough... he gives up a toy to make her stop crying. Then it graduates to fetching her a toy when she points. THEN it moves on to the big leagues. Sharing the last piece of his birthday cake, tucking in her blanket...chauffeuring her around. She's a natural, as only a princess little sister can!
I screamed out loud.
I was just meandering through my flickr account seeing if I had already uploaded birth pictures, when I ran across....
this.
OH THE HUMANITY!!!! Good god no, NOOOOOO!
The reality check that that, *sceams*, is how we spend 6 months of the year was NOT welcome when...
this
is what I looked at today. Same chairs. 6 months apart.
that's more like it.
Ahhhh.
P.S. Nope, did not find any birth pictures, but am remedying that right this second.
this.
OH THE HUMANITY!!!! Good god no, NOOOOOO!
The reality check that that, *sceams*, is how we spend 6 months of the year was NOT welcome when...
this
is what I looked at today. Same chairs. 6 months apart.
that's more like it.
Ahhhh.
P.S. Nope, did not find any birth pictures, but am remedying that right this second.
My home birth story
In honour of my best friend's home birthed daughter's one-week-iversary (did you catch all of that?) I thought it was finally time to share my own, well planned, home birth.
Be prepared - I talk about my girlie bits. There, you have been warned, I have no shame :D
Miss A’s birth story
Welcoming a second child into the world is just as unique an experience as the first time. You may think you know what you are doing, but each child shows you that they have their own personality, distinct even to the point of how and when they want to enter the world! To be blessed with creating and nurturing a life again, after knowing the love there exists between mother and child, is overwhelming. Love is not divided; it is multiplied with each child. Miss A’s birth was an amazing event. I had hoped and planned and had everything I could set up ahead of time, all that was left was for her to decide she was ready to enter the world and be welcomed into our lives – she was already a part of our hearts and our family the moment she was conceived.
Writing a birth story is a challenge and a privilege. Writing it means you are a mother, it means you have an amazing little person who needs you and loves you for being *you*. It means that you have gone through the most life changing event I can imagine. Giving birth is powerful. It can push a woman beyond any level of imagination possible. It is the most physically charged, basic human function I can imagine, and its rewards cannot be counted. Knowing where to start the story is hard. You want to remember and document everything to show your children when they are older, to show your friends and family, and to reread yourself whenever you need a pick me up. I reread my son birth story frequently. During the sleepless newborn nights, during the sleepless teething nights, as his first birthday approached, when he amazes me and when he frustrates me. It is an instant connection to the beginning of the most fundamental relationship possible.
I am insanely proud of Miss A’s entrance into the world. I fought long and hard to plan a homebirth, where I could welcome my daughter into the safety and comfort of our family in surroundings that were familiar to me, and would be a comfort to both of us. We had numerous roadblocks to overcome to ensure our homebirth, but we did it. I had asked my two best friends to be involved in Miss A’s birth, and as both live over an hour away, we needed to be on the ball about when to call them to be here. Seeing as they have toddlers themselves, timing could have been an issue. Thankfully, it all worked out perfectly!
Thursday April 10, 2008 I had a midwife appt first thing in the morning. My husband had taken the morning off work to be with our son while I went to my appointment. After talking to one of the midwives, B, about the random contractions all week, we decided to do an internal, even though I knew the information wouldn't really tell me anything, I was at the stage of pregnancy that I needed to be reminded that this baby was coming out sooner rather than later. Turns out I was about 1cm dilated and 50% effaced, which made me smile. After my appt, we took Mr. Man to the park to play and for a nice long walk. My husband left for work as Mr Man went down for a nap, and I took the time to myself to have a nice long nap as well. Thursday night we spent the same as usual, watching some tv, puttering around the house, talking to friends and family on the phone. I was optimistic as I was having a lot of activity down under.
Turns out my optimism wasn’t misplaced!
My labour started around 2am on Friday April 11, 2008. I had been having cramps and random contractions all week, but on Friday they began to come at time able distances between then, and were painful enough that I wasn’t able to sleep anymore. I ended up coming downstairs and watching tv, deciding to track my contractions using an online counter, and update my journal. Here is how the contractions looked in the early morning:
Start time - end time – duration - interval
03:54:07 am 03:55:16 am 1 mins, 9 secs - 7 mins, 22 secs
03:46:44 am 03:47:42 am 57 secs - 7 mins, 10 secs
03:39:34 am 03:40:24 am 50 secs - 8 mins, 17 secs
03:31:16 am 03:32:13 am 57 secs - 8 mins, 16 secs
03:23:00 am 03:23:44 am 44 secs - 9 mins, 3 secs
03:13:56 am 03:16:10 am 2 mins, 14 secs - 4 mins, 23 secs
03:09:32 am 03:10:29 am 56 secs - 6 mins, 20 secs
03:03:12 am 03:04:03 am 50 secs - 8 mins, 40 secs
02:54:31 am 02:55:35 am 1 mins, 3 secs - 11 mins, 56 secs
02:42:35 am 02:44:09 am 1 mins, 34 secs
I decided around 5am to wake my husband up to rub my back during contractions, I was feeling a lot of back pressure and pressure in my hips as the contractions wrapped around to my lower abs. Around 6am we decided the contractions were definitely “it”, and so we made the decision to call in the troops! I called (and woke up!) my two best friends, the blonde bombshell duo, and called my mom as she made her way into work to find out when she could come. The plan had been for my mom to come and be with Mr. Man while I laboured, maybe keeping him overnight depending on timing. Turns out my mom wasn’t able to leave work and be at my house until late afternoon, but both AJ and Nat were both able to come out mid-morning.
As luck would have it, having Mr. Man at home during my labour was a deciding fact on how fast I progressed. When Mr. Man woke up at 8am, there was a noticeable lengthening between contractions, and I began to doubt that I was truly in labour. This self-doubt haunted me throughout the day, and coupled with Mr. Man being so close by, was most likely the two largest factors to the long first stage of labour I experienced.
Nat and AJ arrived mid-morning, and we hung out upstairs for a bit while the Hubs was downstairs with Mr. Man. My contractions had spaced out to 30 minutes apart at this point, so we decided we needed to do something to get them going again. The Hubs and I went out into the wet and windy day and power walked (as much as a 39w 5d pregnant woman can power walk while waddling!) around the block. I had a few contractions while we walked, and the low cramping was constant the whole time. When we got back, the contractions had picked up, but not to the point they had been during the night.
I was feeling really discouraged and embarrassed that I had disturbed everybody’s day for what I was now convinced was false labour. I went up into our bedroom by myself and even googled “false labour” to read about it, the results making me even more discouraged. I even avoided updating my journal, thinking how disappointed my friends would be for the false alarm. I ended up in the shower, which was a nice warm haven and I had myself a very good cry. It was soon Mr. Man’s nap time, and to my amazement the contractions really began to pick up! I labored a bit in bed, but then moved downstairs and knelt on the floor. B called at that time to check on me, and after telling her “same old, same old”, she advised to call her if my water broke, or the contractions got stronger and closer together. It was around this time that AJ and Nat decided to go out and get lunch. As much as I love my friends, I was in such distress that they had come all the way out to end up leaving with my “false labour” that it was a bit of a relief to be with the Hubs alone again. I had another good cry, sharing my concern and embarrassment about my “false labour”. The Hubs was wonderful as always and listened to my concerns and then reassured me…although I didn’t believe him! The girls brought back subway for lunch, and the food tasted sooo good! Unfortunately for me, I had a contraction with a full mouth, and that was no fun! Turns out that sub was the last thing I ate all day! It was at this time I decided to stop tracking contractions as it seemed to stress me out more that just letting them happen. Best decision ever. AJ and Nat kept track of them without me knowing, which was so helpful. Every once in a while I would ask if they were getting closer, and they would reassure me they were…turns out they were merely humouring me, and the contractions were staying anywhere from 8-15 minutes apart.
Around 3pm, AJ and Nat convinced me (aka bullied me!) into going to the grocery store to pick up some essentials. I finally had to admit I truly didn’t want to go because I have an insane fear of the embarrassment of my water breaking in public, not to mention looking like a fool in the middle of a contraction in public. But they won, and I was bundled into the car. Turns out this trip to the store was one of the best things ever for labour. I had numerous (embarrassing!) contracting in the store, and after refusing the walk across the parking lot to the coffee house and insisting on driving there, had one of the most excruciating contractions waiting while the girls were inside. I should have known then things were happening. Contractions + car suck!
My mom arrived around 4:30pm, and by that time the contractions were started to pick up again. Having Mr. Man down for his nap, and definitely getting out and walking around the grocery store had allowed me to relax a bit, and this relaxing was what I needed to let my labour start up again. I had briefly entertained the idea of calling my mom and cancelling her, thinking I wasn’t in true labour (that darn self-doubt again!), but decided to just roll with it and hope for the best. I had 2 contractions while she was getting Mr. Man ready to leave, and I remember thinking that I was happy Mr. Man would get to hang out with his Nana, but would they just GO ALREADY! This should have been an indicator to me I was really truly in labour!!
B called soon after Mr. Man left, and let me know she was planning on coming out to see me after another woman who was in the hospital. I jumped into the shower after talking to her, and had the Hubs bring in Mr. Man’s stereo and get me some good rock music. His choice of soundtrack was inspired – my CD of the music fro the TV show “Las Vegas”. I found myself on my hands and knees leaning on the birthing ball in the shower with the massage function pointing at my back, singing along with the CD at the top of my voice. Pure freedom! After a bit I stood up and leaned against the wall, and tried to “dance” along with the music, doing hip sways and rocks. The hot water began to run out after the sixth song, and without the hot water the contractions, which had really picked up, began to be very painful, needing my complete focus to relax through them. I got out of the shower and put on shorts and a long t-shirt. I went downstairs, and the contractions continued on, much to my relief. I found myself laboring on my knees leaning against our black leather chair, and needed AJ to put counter pressure against my lower back/hips. The contractions definitely were getting stronger, I focused on them excluding everything else.
B came to the house around 6pm, and we went upstairs to our bedroom for her to check me. I was 3cm dilated, but about 80% effaced. B was afraid I would be discouraged, but in reality I was happy to have it confirmed I was progressing! I think this was the first time all day I began to believe I was truly in labour! After she checked me, she set up her equipment in our bedroom, and seeing her set up was exactly what I needed to build my confidence that I wasn’t in fact in false labour, and that I hadn’t called in the troops for nothing. I was imagining I would labour into the wee hours of the morning, and said as much to B. She looked at me, laughed and said I’d be calling her in 2 hours, at 8pm. This, I could not believe, instead thinking she was trying to build up my confidence. Little did I know you should never doubt a midwife with so much experience!
After B left, it felt like time was suspended. The contractions started coming closer together and lasting longer, taking my breath away and I had to vocalize to get through them. AJ and Nat again bullied me (I say this with affection, AJ’s ability to pay “bad cop” with me is legendary and one of the reasons I wanted her for the birth!) into going for a walk, but I was stubborn and only consented to walking around our little grassy square with The Hubs. I had to stop 4-5 times in that little distance, the contractions were very strong, and I could not walk through them. When the Hubs and I returned, it was as if a flip had been thrown – I went into a zone and lived from contraction to contraction. I don’t remember anything specific for the next 2 hours. My whole being was focused on staying on top of each contraction. I needed to vocalize through them, I started with words that would help me focus, such as “control”, “low”, and “open”. I remember at one point wondering where everyone was, thinking Nat was in the kitchen and I was scaring her! Poor woman is due with her second in late July, and the thought kept passing through my mind that she would run to the hospital for an epidural!
I was staying in much the same position for the contractions, leaning up against a wood dresser we had just moved to the top of the basement stairs that was the new home for Mr. Man’s diapers. On top of the dresser was a pile of clean diapers and fabric from my sewing projects, and I loved nothing better than burying my face in the soft cloth and to smell the cleanness during contractions. At one point I tried to make a (lame) joke about how glad I was that they were indeed clean diapers! Sometime in here AJ and the Hubs had thought to chew some gum to get ride of some garlic breath, and having them beside me with the mint in my face was so distracting, but I couldn’t waste the energy telling them, until one point when I just yelled at The Hubs quickly between contractions “LOSE THE GUM!” Of course they all found this funny, and I’m sure I will never live that down!
The contractions soon reached a point where my knees would almost buckle from the intensity (dare I say PAIN!). I remember thinking that I was not dealing so well with this pain, and as the midwife was only just here I couldn’t be farther than 4 or maybe if I was lucky 5 cm. I thought of my friend Heidi, laboring all by herself through transition thinking she was in early labour. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that I could possibly be progressing, even when I started losing control and moaning that “I can’t do this!” That should have been my indication I truly was going through transition! Nat, AJ and The Hubs were suggesting that it was time to call the midwives back, but I was in complete denial I could have progressed passed 5 cm, and didn’t want to “cry wolf”, or have the midwives here too early and potentially stale my labour. I was SO delusional!!!
I moved back to the black chair at this point, thinking I should open my hips to move the baby on down. The contractions were so intense I started to lose control, and it wasn’t until I turned my head and focused on AJ’s eyes, maintaining eye contact through the contraction that I felt a bit more in control. Too bad the cats decided then would be a good time to come investigate, and she had to break contact to shush them away. I would gladly have strangled someone at that point to get her eyes back!
The chair wasn’t doing it for me anymore, so I move back to the dresser. Moaning and my control words weren’t cutting it either, and I started to count *very* loudly. Counting really let me control the contractions, knowing I just had to get to 30 before the pain would start to go away. I remember staring at the wall counting at the top of my lungs (dare I say yelling at the top of my lungs?!) and thinking our neighbors must be wondering what was going on! I guess I was counting very slowly because the contraction data Nat (who wasn’t in fact hiding in the kitchen, but was sitting behind me the whole time!) was keeping showed they were 90 seconds long! After the fact, the Hubs old me I wasn’t actually counting in sequence – what to me were orderly numbers were in fact just coming out randomly!
I moved back to the black chair, and it was at this point, as I was shouting out my “numbers” that my mouth opened and I said “Call the midwives”. I still don’t know what it was that made me say it at that time, as that contraction wasn’t noticeably different from the others, but it’s a good thing that something possessed me to say it then. Nat hopped on the phone and called the midwives, and as I moved back to the dresser I felt a “pop” and gush as my water broke! It was 8pm on the dot. My water just kept gushing, almost pulsing out, and my gut reaction was to demand if it was clear or not! Thankfully, it was indeed clear, all was well with baby! I said “my water broke!” and the Hubs and AJ came running with a towel to lay on the floor beneath me. My shorts and under wear were soaked, and it just kept coming. The Hubs asked me what it felt like, and all I could come up with was “like I’m peeing myself”. Classy, no?
Nat had been keeping track of my contractions during this last bit:
08:09:21 pm 08:10:11 pm 50 secs 1 mins, 37 secs
08:07:43 pm 08:08:54 pm 1 mins, 10 secs 1 mins, 44 secs
08:05:59 pm 08:06:49 pm 50 secs 3 mins, 32 secs
08:02:26 pm 08:03:43 pm 1 mins, 17 secs 2 mins, 1 secs
08:00:24 pm 08:01:29 pm 1 mins, 4 secs 2 mins, 38 secs
07:57:47 pm 07:58:55 pm 1 mins, 8 secs 1 mins, 47 secs
07:55:59 pm 07:57:25 pm 1 mins, 25 secs
They were coming closer and closer together and were right up there in intensity. I distinctly remember saying “these feel like pitocin contractions!” because boy did they ever! I can still not believe the whole body experience, how the contractions overshadowed any other sensation/feeling at the time. I was consumed with living from contraction to contraction.
B came in at 8:05pm, and came over to me. She was able to get my attention, and had me change my breathing, from the loud counting to low moaning or singing. She had me go upstairs, which was a production as I had numerous contractions on the way. I ended up going up the stairs on my hands and feet, and thought briefly how funny it was as I was just in my underwear and shirt at this point, the horrid view for those behind me!
Once in our bedroom, B wanted me to lie down on my back to check me. The Hubs took off my underwear, and I know I really resented and dreaded laying on my back. I tried to get her to check me quickly between contractions, but one started just as she finished. I quickly rolled over to my hands and knees to move during the contractions, I had to keep my hips moving to help the pain. At this point B went out of the room to call the second midwife, and I was later told that she said “how fast can you get here?” It was 8:13pm, and I was 9cm dilated, with a lip remaining. As B was on the phone, I tried to stand up to get of the bed, but another contraction hit and I put my head down on AJ’s shoulder and felt my body start to push. I yelled out “I’m pushing!” and B came right back in and said to try to breath through it. Yeah…right. My body was just pushing, I couldn’t stop it anymore than you could stop the tide. At the end of that one push, I felt “the ring of fire”. Ho boy did they name that right!! I know I said “Ring of fire!! RING OF FIRE!” and AJ said “The baby’s coming!” and B said “Pant, I have to get my gloves on!”
But nope, Miss A was not waiting, my body gave another great push and pop, her head was out. Yes, pop, I remember it feeling like a cork popping out of a bottle. Her body just sort of slithered out next, and B put her on the bed underneath me and between my knees. My shirt was so big though that I couldn’t see her, and as B tried to pass her through to me she got snagged in my shirt. I leaned over to the side, untangled my shirt, and there, in all her beautiful glory was my daughter!
She looked so tiny! “It’s a baby!” I cried out, feeling tears running down my face. AJ was at my head and I feel her hugging me. “Is it a girl?!” I demanded, and the Hubs laughed and said yes. I then remember thinking I wanted to lay down, and asked if I could move, but B asked me to wait as the cord was still attached. The Hubs cut her cord after a minute or two, and I flopped to my left on my back. The relief of no contractions felt so heavenly, I blurted out “This feels SO GOOD!” to which B laughed. There was a little debate as to whether she was born at 8:15pm or 8:18pm, but B went with her time of 8:15pm.
I was looking over at Miss A and she was so white because she was so covered in vernix. I was worried because I couldn’t hear her crying and I know I demanded to know if she was ok. AJ was helping B at that point as obviously the second midwife wasn’t there. I demanded “AJ, tell me my baby is alright!” And she looked me right in the eyes and said “yes, she’s absolutely perfect”. Those are, and always will be, the four most beautiful words I have ever heard. I knew I could trust my baby girl to AJ so I laid back and watched all that was going on around me. Nat was taking pictures of Miss A, AJ and B were with Miss A and the Hubs was beside me. I cannot fully explain the feeling of amazement and joy that washed over me in those moments. It was like I was looking down on everything in a golden glow. I couldn’t believe I had just given birth, at home, by myself, and my girl was perfect. B passed her to me and I held her and just soaked in her beauty. She had her eyes open, they were so dark! The contractions started again 5 minutes after Miss A was born, and I pushed out the placenta. B took it over to the end of the bed to check it out, and came back to help massage my uterus. Once that was done, I striped down to get skin to skin with her at this point, as things had happened to fast I was still wearing my bra! The other midwife, Celeste, soon arrived, and she helped me get all cleaned up while I held Miss A. The Hubs looked over at me at this point, while I was holding Miss A, and asked “so is this our little Miss A?”
The name was just perfect for her, and we just knew she was an Miss A. The hard name game was over!
It was then time for B checked me, and it turned out that even with Miss A’s fast arrival, my perineum was completely intact, not a single tear! I credit this to delivering on my hands and knees and letting my body dictate when to push and how to push. I was so happy and weirdly proud (!) to hear I had no tears!
I rolled over to the Hubs’s side of the bed (Miss A was born on my side!) and realized I was shaking a bit, I think I was a bit in shock over how fast everything had happened. I was holding Miss A, and someone got some blankets to cover us with. Nat and AJ were standing beside me, and the Hubs was right on my other side, and it felt like we were all on an adrenaline high, talking and exclaiming ad admiring Miss A. I decided to try nursing Miss A at this point, and she took to it like a champ. She actually didn’t want to unlatch to get her stats checked, so the Hubs called all our family and friends but couldn’t tell them how much she weighted or anything!
Finally I decided I wanted to get cleaned up, so I unlatched Miss A (she was not happy!) and handed her to C to do the newborn physical.
We found out she weighted 7lbs 15oz, and was 21 inches long. She was perfect indeed.
B helped me into the shower, it was quite comical actually, as I had to walk with a whole bunch of towels between my legs to get there! Once in the shower I washed my hair and soaped myself down before B came back to help me out. I got all dried off, got my undercarriage properly adorned and my nightgown on before going back into our bedroom to a clean, made, bed and a dressed baby. Her first clothes were her hot pink monkey doodles diaper and a baby pink bunny sleeper. And of course her striped hat that daddy picked out.
I crawled back into bed and we took some more pictures.
By now the midwives had everything all cleaned up and they went downstairs to write up all their paperwork. I got a delicious muffin that Nat had made earlier in the day and gobbled that down as we all sat around admiring Miss A. It was so cool to have my two best friends, my husband and my brand new baby girl just chilling in bed. I was so happy and relaxed, words cannot describe how wonderful it was! The midwives came back up at about 10:30pm to say goodbye, and the girls went down and got us dinner – turns out Nat had been super busy in the kitchen, not only whipping up muffins but making a ham and scalloped potatoes too! Food never tasted so delicious.
After eating, the girls got all packed up and hit the road around 11pm, they both needed to get back to their families. I was so sad to see them go, it was like sudden end to an amazing day. Having them leave made it a bit more real that it was over. The quiet house was a bit overwhelming. Miss A was fast asleep, and the Hubs and I soon joined her.
Be prepared - I talk about my girlie bits. There, you have been warned, I have no shame :D
Miss A’s birth story
Welcoming a second child into the world is just as unique an experience as the first time. You may think you know what you are doing, but each child shows you that they have their own personality, distinct even to the point of how and when they want to enter the world! To be blessed with creating and nurturing a life again, after knowing the love there exists between mother and child, is overwhelming. Love is not divided; it is multiplied with each child. Miss A’s birth was an amazing event. I had hoped and planned and had everything I could set up ahead of time, all that was left was for her to decide she was ready to enter the world and be welcomed into our lives – she was already a part of our hearts and our family the moment she was conceived.
Writing a birth story is a challenge and a privilege. Writing it means you are a mother, it means you have an amazing little person who needs you and loves you for being *you*. It means that you have gone through the most life changing event I can imagine. Giving birth is powerful. It can push a woman beyond any level of imagination possible. It is the most physically charged, basic human function I can imagine, and its rewards cannot be counted. Knowing where to start the story is hard. You want to remember and document everything to show your children when they are older, to show your friends and family, and to reread yourself whenever you need a pick me up. I reread my son birth story frequently. During the sleepless newborn nights, during the sleepless teething nights, as his first birthday approached, when he amazes me and when he frustrates me. It is an instant connection to the beginning of the most fundamental relationship possible.
I am insanely proud of Miss A’s entrance into the world. I fought long and hard to plan a homebirth, where I could welcome my daughter into the safety and comfort of our family in surroundings that were familiar to me, and would be a comfort to both of us. We had numerous roadblocks to overcome to ensure our homebirth, but we did it. I had asked my two best friends to be involved in Miss A’s birth, and as both live over an hour away, we needed to be on the ball about when to call them to be here. Seeing as they have toddlers themselves, timing could have been an issue. Thankfully, it all worked out perfectly!
Thursday April 10, 2008 I had a midwife appt first thing in the morning. My husband had taken the morning off work to be with our son while I went to my appointment. After talking to one of the midwives, B, about the random contractions all week, we decided to do an internal, even though I knew the information wouldn't really tell me anything, I was at the stage of pregnancy that I needed to be reminded that this baby was coming out sooner rather than later. Turns out I was about 1cm dilated and 50% effaced, which made me smile. After my appt, we took Mr. Man to the park to play and for a nice long walk. My husband left for work as Mr Man went down for a nap, and I took the time to myself to have a nice long nap as well. Thursday night we spent the same as usual, watching some tv, puttering around the house, talking to friends and family on the phone. I was optimistic as I was having a lot of activity down under.
Turns out my optimism wasn’t misplaced!
My labour started around 2am on Friday April 11, 2008. I had been having cramps and random contractions all week, but on Friday they began to come at time able distances between then, and were painful enough that I wasn’t able to sleep anymore. I ended up coming downstairs and watching tv, deciding to track my contractions using an online counter, and update my journal. Here is how the contractions looked in the early morning:
Start time - end time – duration - interval
03:54:07 am 03:55:16 am 1 mins, 9 secs - 7 mins, 22 secs
03:46:44 am 03:47:42 am 57 secs - 7 mins, 10 secs
03:39:34 am 03:40:24 am 50 secs - 8 mins, 17 secs
03:31:16 am 03:32:13 am 57 secs - 8 mins, 16 secs
03:23:00 am 03:23:44 am 44 secs - 9 mins, 3 secs
03:13:56 am 03:16:10 am 2 mins, 14 secs - 4 mins, 23 secs
03:09:32 am 03:10:29 am 56 secs - 6 mins, 20 secs
03:03:12 am 03:04:03 am 50 secs - 8 mins, 40 secs
02:54:31 am 02:55:35 am 1 mins, 3 secs - 11 mins, 56 secs
02:42:35 am 02:44:09 am 1 mins, 34 secs
I decided around 5am to wake my husband up to rub my back during contractions, I was feeling a lot of back pressure and pressure in my hips as the contractions wrapped around to my lower abs. Around 6am we decided the contractions were definitely “it”, and so we made the decision to call in the troops! I called (and woke up!) my two best friends, the blonde bombshell duo, and called my mom as she made her way into work to find out when she could come. The plan had been for my mom to come and be with Mr. Man while I laboured, maybe keeping him overnight depending on timing. Turns out my mom wasn’t able to leave work and be at my house until late afternoon, but both AJ and Nat were both able to come out mid-morning.
As luck would have it, having Mr. Man at home during my labour was a deciding fact on how fast I progressed. When Mr. Man woke up at 8am, there was a noticeable lengthening between contractions, and I began to doubt that I was truly in labour. This self-doubt haunted me throughout the day, and coupled with Mr. Man being so close by, was most likely the two largest factors to the long first stage of labour I experienced.
Nat and AJ arrived mid-morning, and we hung out upstairs for a bit while the Hubs was downstairs with Mr. Man. My contractions had spaced out to 30 minutes apart at this point, so we decided we needed to do something to get them going again. The Hubs and I went out into the wet and windy day and power walked (as much as a 39w 5d pregnant woman can power walk while waddling!) around the block. I had a few contractions while we walked, and the low cramping was constant the whole time. When we got back, the contractions had picked up, but not to the point they had been during the night.
I was feeling really discouraged and embarrassed that I had disturbed everybody’s day for what I was now convinced was false labour. I went up into our bedroom by myself and even googled “false labour” to read about it, the results making me even more discouraged. I even avoided updating my journal, thinking how disappointed my friends would be for the false alarm. I ended up in the shower, which was a nice warm haven and I had myself a very good cry. It was soon Mr. Man’s nap time, and to my amazement the contractions really began to pick up! I labored a bit in bed, but then moved downstairs and knelt on the floor. B called at that time to check on me, and after telling her “same old, same old”, she advised to call her if my water broke, or the contractions got stronger and closer together. It was around this time that AJ and Nat decided to go out and get lunch. As much as I love my friends, I was in such distress that they had come all the way out to end up leaving with my “false labour” that it was a bit of a relief to be with the Hubs alone again. I had another good cry, sharing my concern and embarrassment about my “false labour”. The Hubs was wonderful as always and listened to my concerns and then reassured me…although I didn’t believe him! The girls brought back subway for lunch, and the food tasted sooo good! Unfortunately for me, I had a contraction with a full mouth, and that was no fun! Turns out that sub was the last thing I ate all day! It was at this time I decided to stop tracking contractions as it seemed to stress me out more that just letting them happen. Best decision ever. AJ and Nat kept track of them without me knowing, which was so helpful. Every once in a while I would ask if they were getting closer, and they would reassure me they were…turns out they were merely humouring me, and the contractions were staying anywhere from 8-15 minutes apart.
Around 3pm, AJ and Nat convinced me (aka bullied me!) into going to the grocery store to pick up some essentials. I finally had to admit I truly didn’t want to go because I have an insane fear of the embarrassment of my water breaking in public, not to mention looking like a fool in the middle of a contraction in public. But they won, and I was bundled into the car. Turns out this trip to the store was one of the best things ever for labour. I had numerous (embarrassing!) contracting in the store, and after refusing the walk across the parking lot to the coffee house and insisting on driving there, had one of the most excruciating contractions waiting while the girls were inside. I should have known then things were happening. Contractions + car suck!
My mom arrived around 4:30pm, and by that time the contractions were started to pick up again. Having Mr. Man down for his nap, and definitely getting out and walking around the grocery store had allowed me to relax a bit, and this relaxing was what I needed to let my labour start up again. I had briefly entertained the idea of calling my mom and cancelling her, thinking I wasn’t in true labour (that darn self-doubt again!), but decided to just roll with it and hope for the best. I had 2 contractions while she was getting Mr. Man ready to leave, and I remember thinking that I was happy Mr. Man would get to hang out with his Nana, but would they just GO ALREADY! This should have been an indicator to me I was really truly in labour!!
B called soon after Mr. Man left, and let me know she was planning on coming out to see me after another woman who was in the hospital. I jumped into the shower after talking to her, and had the Hubs bring in Mr. Man’s stereo and get me some good rock music. His choice of soundtrack was inspired – my CD of the music fro the TV show “Las Vegas”. I found myself on my hands and knees leaning on the birthing ball in the shower with the massage function pointing at my back, singing along with the CD at the top of my voice. Pure freedom! After a bit I stood up and leaned against the wall, and tried to “dance” along with the music, doing hip sways and rocks. The hot water began to run out after the sixth song, and without the hot water the contractions, which had really picked up, began to be very painful, needing my complete focus to relax through them. I got out of the shower and put on shorts and a long t-shirt. I went downstairs, and the contractions continued on, much to my relief. I found myself laboring on my knees leaning against our black leather chair, and needed AJ to put counter pressure against my lower back/hips. The contractions definitely were getting stronger, I focused on them excluding everything else.
B came to the house around 6pm, and we went upstairs to our bedroom for her to check me. I was 3cm dilated, but about 80% effaced. B was afraid I would be discouraged, but in reality I was happy to have it confirmed I was progressing! I think this was the first time all day I began to believe I was truly in labour! After she checked me, she set up her equipment in our bedroom, and seeing her set up was exactly what I needed to build my confidence that I wasn’t in fact in false labour, and that I hadn’t called in the troops for nothing. I was imagining I would labour into the wee hours of the morning, and said as much to B. She looked at me, laughed and said I’d be calling her in 2 hours, at 8pm. This, I could not believe, instead thinking she was trying to build up my confidence. Little did I know you should never doubt a midwife with so much experience!
After B left, it felt like time was suspended. The contractions started coming closer together and lasting longer, taking my breath away and I had to vocalize to get through them. AJ and Nat again bullied me (I say this with affection, AJ’s ability to pay “bad cop” with me is legendary and one of the reasons I wanted her for the birth!) into going for a walk, but I was stubborn and only consented to walking around our little grassy square with The Hubs. I had to stop 4-5 times in that little distance, the contractions were very strong, and I could not walk through them. When the Hubs and I returned, it was as if a flip had been thrown – I went into a zone and lived from contraction to contraction. I don’t remember anything specific for the next 2 hours. My whole being was focused on staying on top of each contraction. I needed to vocalize through them, I started with words that would help me focus, such as “control”, “low”, and “open”. I remember at one point wondering where everyone was, thinking Nat was in the kitchen and I was scaring her! Poor woman is due with her second in late July, and the thought kept passing through my mind that she would run to the hospital for an epidural!
I was staying in much the same position for the contractions, leaning up against a wood dresser we had just moved to the top of the basement stairs that was the new home for Mr. Man’s diapers. On top of the dresser was a pile of clean diapers and fabric from my sewing projects, and I loved nothing better than burying my face in the soft cloth and to smell the cleanness during contractions. At one point I tried to make a (lame) joke about how glad I was that they were indeed clean diapers! Sometime in here AJ and the Hubs had thought to chew some gum to get ride of some garlic breath, and having them beside me with the mint in my face was so distracting, but I couldn’t waste the energy telling them, until one point when I just yelled at The Hubs quickly between contractions “LOSE THE GUM!” Of course they all found this funny, and I’m sure I will never live that down!
The contractions soon reached a point where my knees would almost buckle from the intensity (dare I say PAIN!). I remember thinking that I was not dealing so well with this pain, and as the midwife was only just here I couldn’t be farther than 4 or maybe if I was lucky 5 cm. I thought of my friend Heidi, laboring all by herself through transition thinking she was in early labour. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that I could possibly be progressing, even when I started losing control and moaning that “I can’t do this!” That should have been my indication I truly was going through transition! Nat, AJ and The Hubs were suggesting that it was time to call the midwives back, but I was in complete denial I could have progressed passed 5 cm, and didn’t want to “cry wolf”, or have the midwives here too early and potentially stale my labour. I was SO delusional!!!
I moved back to the black chair at this point, thinking I should open my hips to move the baby on down. The contractions were so intense I started to lose control, and it wasn’t until I turned my head and focused on AJ’s eyes, maintaining eye contact through the contraction that I felt a bit more in control. Too bad the cats decided then would be a good time to come investigate, and she had to break contact to shush them away. I would gladly have strangled someone at that point to get her eyes back!
The chair wasn’t doing it for me anymore, so I move back to the dresser. Moaning and my control words weren’t cutting it either, and I started to count *very* loudly. Counting really let me control the contractions, knowing I just had to get to 30 before the pain would start to go away. I remember staring at the wall counting at the top of my lungs (dare I say yelling at the top of my lungs?!) and thinking our neighbors must be wondering what was going on! I guess I was counting very slowly because the contraction data Nat (who wasn’t in fact hiding in the kitchen, but was sitting behind me the whole time!) was keeping showed they were 90 seconds long! After the fact, the Hubs old me I wasn’t actually counting in sequence – what to me were orderly numbers were in fact just coming out randomly!
I moved back to the black chair, and it was at this point, as I was shouting out my “numbers” that my mouth opened and I said “Call the midwives”. I still don’t know what it was that made me say it at that time, as that contraction wasn’t noticeably different from the others, but it’s a good thing that something possessed me to say it then. Nat hopped on the phone and called the midwives, and as I moved back to the dresser I felt a “pop” and gush as my water broke! It was 8pm on the dot. My water just kept gushing, almost pulsing out, and my gut reaction was to demand if it was clear or not! Thankfully, it was indeed clear, all was well with baby! I said “my water broke!” and the Hubs and AJ came running with a towel to lay on the floor beneath me. My shorts and under wear were soaked, and it just kept coming. The Hubs asked me what it felt like, and all I could come up with was “like I’m peeing myself”. Classy, no?
Nat had been keeping track of my contractions during this last bit:
08:09:21 pm 08:10:11 pm 50 secs 1 mins, 37 secs
08:07:43 pm 08:08:54 pm 1 mins, 10 secs 1 mins, 44 secs
08:05:59 pm 08:06:49 pm 50 secs 3 mins, 32 secs
08:02:26 pm 08:03:43 pm 1 mins, 17 secs 2 mins, 1 secs
08:00:24 pm 08:01:29 pm 1 mins, 4 secs 2 mins, 38 secs
07:57:47 pm 07:58:55 pm 1 mins, 8 secs 1 mins, 47 secs
07:55:59 pm 07:57:25 pm 1 mins, 25 secs
They were coming closer and closer together and were right up there in intensity. I distinctly remember saying “these feel like pitocin contractions!” because boy did they ever! I can still not believe the whole body experience, how the contractions overshadowed any other sensation/feeling at the time. I was consumed with living from contraction to contraction.
B came in at 8:05pm, and came over to me. She was able to get my attention, and had me change my breathing, from the loud counting to low moaning or singing. She had me go upstairs, which was a production as I had numerous contractions on the way. I ended up going up the stairs on my hands and feet, and thought briefly how funny it was as I was just in my underwear and shirt at this point, the horrid view for those behind me!
Once in our bedroom, B wanted me to lie down on my back to check me. The Hubs took off my underwear, and I know I really resented and dreaded laying on my back. I tried to get her to check me quickly between contractions, but one started just as she finished. I quickly rolled over to my hands and knees to move during the contractions, I had to keep my hips moving to help the pain. At this point B went out of the room to call the second midwife, and I was later told that she said “how fast can you get here?” It was 8:13pm, and I was 9cm dilated, with a lip remaining. As B was on the phone, I tried to stand up to get of the bed, but another contraction hit and I put my head down on AJ’s shoulder and felt my body start to push. I yelled out “I’m pushing!” and B came right back in and said to try to breath through it. Yeah…right. My body was just pushing, I couldn’t stop it anymore than you could stop the tide. At the end of that one push, I felt “the ring of fire”. Ho boy did they name that right!! I know I said “Ring of fire!! RING OF FIRE!” and AJ said “The baby’s coming!” and B said “Pant, I have to get my gloves on!”
But nope, Miss A was not waiting, my body gave another great push and pop, her head was out. Yes, pop, I remember it feeling like a cork popping out of a bottle. Her body just sort of slithered out next, and B put her on the bed underneath me and between my knees. My shirt was so big though that I couldn’t see her, and as B tried to pass her through to me she got snagged in my shirt. I leaned over to the side, untangled my shirt, and there, in all her beautiful glory was my daughter!
She looked so tiny! “It’s a baby!” I cried out, feeling tears running down my face. AJ was at my head and I feel her hugging me. “Is it a girl?!” I demanded, and the Hubs laughed and said yes. I then remember thinking I wanted to lay down, and asked if I could move, but B asked me to wait as the cord was still attached. The Hubs cut her cord after a minute or two, and I flopped to my left on my back. The relief of no contractions felt so heavenly, I blurted out “This feels SO GOOD!” to which B laughed. There was a little debate as to whether she was born at 8:15pm or 8:18pm, but B went with her time of 8:15pm.
I was looking over at Miss A and she was so white because she was so covered in vernix. I was worried because I couldn’t hear her crying and I know I demanded to know if she was ok. AJ was helping B at that point as obviously the second midwife wasn’t there. I demanded “AJ, tell me my baby is alright!” And she looked me right in the eyes and said “yes, she’s absolutely perfect”. Those are, and always will be, the four most beautiful words I have ever heard. I knew I could trust my baby girl to AJ so I laid back and watched all that was going on around me. Nat was taking pictures of Miss A, AJ and B were with Miss A and the Hubs was beside me. I cannot fully explain the feeling of amazement and joy that washed over me in those moments. It was like I was looking down on everything in a golden glow. I couldn’t believe I had just given birth, at home, by myself, and my girl was perfect. B passed her to me and I held her and just soaked in her beauty. She had her eyes open, they were so dark! The contractions started again 5 minutes after Miss A was born, and I pushed out the placenta. B took it over to the end of the bed to check it out, and came back to help massage my uterus. Once that was done, I striped down to get skin to skin with her at this point, as things had happened to fast I was still wearing my bra! The other midwife, Celeste, soon arrived, and she helped me get all cleaned up while I held Miss A. The Hubs looked over at me at this point, while I was holding Miss A, and asked “so is this our little Miss A?”
The name was just perfect for her, and we just knew she was an Miss A. The hard name game was over!
It was then time for B checked me, and it turned out that even with Miss A’s fast arrival, my perineum was completely intact, not a single tear! I credit this to delivering on my hands and knees and letting my body dictate when to push and how to push. I was so happy and weirdly proud (!) to hear I had no tears!
I rolled over to the Hubs’s side of the bed (Miss A was born on my side!) and realized I was shaking a bit, I think I was a bit in shock over how fast everything had happened. I was holding Miss A, and someone got some blankets to cover us with. Nat and AJ were standing beside me, and the Hubs was right on my other side, and it felt like we were all on an adrenaline high, talking and exclaiming ad admiring Miss A. I decided to try nursing Miss A at this point, and she took to it like a champ. She actually didn’t want to unlatch to get her stats checked, so the Hubs called all our family and friends but couldn’t tell them how much she weighted or anything!
Finally I decided I wanted to get cleaned up, so I unlatched Miss A (she was not happy!) and handed her to C to do the newborn physical.
We found out she weighted 7lbs 15oz, and was 21 inches long. She was perfect indeed.
B helped me into the shower, it was quite comical actually, as I had to walk with a whole bunch of towels between my legs to get there! Once in the shower I washed my hair and soaped myself down before B came back to help me out. I got all dried off, got my undercarriage properly adorned and my nightgown on before going back into our bedroom to a clean, made, bed and a dressed baby. Her first clothes were her hot pink monkey doodles diaper and a baby pink bunny sleeper. And of course her striped hat that daddy picked out.
I crawled back into bed and we took some more pictures.
By now the midwives had everything all cleaned up and they went downstairs to write up all their paperwork. I got a delicious muffin that Nat had made earlier in the day and gobbled that down as we all sat around admiring Miss A. It was so cool to have my two best friends, my husband and my brand new baby girl just chilling in bed. I was so happy and relaxed, words cannot describe how wonderful it was! The midwives came back up at about 10:30pm to say goodbye, and the girls went down and got us dinner – turns out Nat had been super busy in the kitchen, not only whipping up muffins but making a ham and scalloped potatoes too! Food never tasted so delicious.
After eating, the girls got all packed up and hit the road around 11pm, they both needed to get back to their families. I was so sad to see them go, it was like sudden end to an amazing day. Having them leave made it a bit more real that it was over. The quiet house was a bit overwhelming. Miss A was fast asleep, and the Hubs and I soon joined her.
All together now...
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!
What is it that makes sleeping little boys so freaking cute? Cabbage patch doll aside (extra awwwww for that please, thank you) the peaceful expression, the messy hair, the superman pajamas...
Adorable.
But.
You know what is the best part of this photo? It's the sleeping part.
Because all too often,
this
is what I have to take pictures of. Not quite so "awwwww" inspiring, eh?
hehe, wakes up just like his momma!
She hath brung forth new life!!
Miserable no longer, AJ, one of my blonde bombshell best friends (yes, there are two of them. I'm cursed) is now a proud mommy Squared!
Sunday morning she welcome a beautiful baby girl into the world...at home! AJ, being a serious ER nurse, thought I was off my rocker, bonkers, certifiable, when I decided to birth my own dear daughter at home. She came and was with me anyways, but up until Sunday, swore up, down and sideways that *she* was going to birth in the hospital.
Well. Her little bundle of pink joy decided otherwise, making her grand entrance too fast for any mention of hospital - the midwives got there in time to close the windows (bombshell #1 is a bit of a screamer, it turns out!) and catch.
How freaking cool is that?
I can't tell you how proud I am of my little bombshell. She birthed that baby like nobody's business! She had her doubts about whether she could birth au naturel, regardless of the setting, but look, she did.
Because....wait for it...wait for it...
Birth.is.not.scary.
Birth.is.normal.
Oh wow, did I just blow your mind? I bet I did. But it's true. Every one of us is the product of an unbroken line of birthing woman. Woman birthing during wars, famines, in fields, caves, by themselves...all done. All birthed. Birth is not only wonderful, birth is normal.
Isn't that simple normal fact awesome?! I think so too!
Hearing all 'bout AJ's fantastic birth made me all mushy and gushy for my own homebirth. And since the hubs "shipping" department is close for business, reminiscing is all I can do. Want to do it with me? I think it's about time to post my own home birth story. My own birth story full of birthing goodness!
Feels like home!
The hubs and I have been spending practically every minute we're not sleeping, eating, wiping butts, fetching sippy cups, tucking in blankets, stacking blocks, making choo-choo sounds and folding laundry on house projects. So, practically none. D'oh. But we're trying! We did succeed in putting up hanging baskets, which I just adore!! Doesn't the purple just to sign to your heart?
No?
oh. Well, you are just a freak then, because that purple should sign to everyone's heart. It's pretty. It's beautiful. That one plant is doing veyr well.
Now it's brother, on the other post not in view, isn't doing so well. It's not protected by the garage, which means it gets a.lot. of wind. And it's not happy. So while this one makes me happy, it's poor brother makes me sad. It's a rough life.
Moving on...this weekend we are going to tackle - raised flower beds in the back and front!! Pictures will be taken, I promise.
Am I a morning person?
Nope.
OH HELL NO.
Not, might I say, in the least. There is barely anything redeeming about mornings. There's the sluggish feelings, the overwhelming decisions - clothing, shower, beauty products, finding matching socks, and then the food, finding food to feed to not only yourself, but multiple little ones is daunting to say the least.
Not to mention you have to Make, and then wait for the caffeine to KICK IN! Oh the humanity!
Not being a morning person was fine when you are a teenager - hell, it's expected.
What I want to know is when being a morning person all of a sudden became cool. Desired... sought after and worst of all - expected.
For the record, waking up beside this little munckin in the mornings is the one redeeming quality.
29 and holding
Saturday was my 29th birthday. My first 29th birthday. You see, I've been doing a whole heck of a lot of thinking lately, and I've decided something simple. My twenties have been good to me - I graduated University, got married, had 2 babies, bought a house...yup, twenties have been good! Twenties have been so good I decided I just won't leave.
So next year, on May 23rd, feel free to wish me Happy Anniversary.
This lady ain't going anywhere near 30.
I've got to wonder though...Do I get chocolate cake for my "Anniversary" parties? And presents? I sure hope so. And no diaper duty. And breakfast in bed. Because all of that this year was rockin'. My husband did well.
So next year, on May 23rd, feel free to wish me Happy Anniversary.
This lady ain't going anywhere near 30.
I've got to wonder though...Do I get chocolate cake for my "Anniversary" parties? And presents? I sure hope so. And no diaper duty. And breakfast in bed. Because all of that this year was rockin'. My husband did well.
To go, or not to go
That is the question.
I'm about to date myself here. I'm a bit scared, so you'll have to promise me you'l still love me when you find out how old (young) I truly am.
I got an invitation for my high school 10 year reunion
yup.
10 years.
In case the math is deceiving you at the moment, that makes me *almost* 29.
Hey - don't think like that - back when I was in High School, Ontario had a standard 5th year of high school if you were continuing on to University. Dudes, really. Like I would spend more time in High School than absolutely necessary!
Ok. So. the invitation. ugh. To go or not to go.
Thoughts? Experiences? Next post tomorrow I'll expand on my high school experiences...
I was in the band.
I went to band camp.
I was a camp counsellor at band camp.
I played the Baritone and Trombone. No flute, thank god.
I played on the tennis team, soccer team, was on the yearbook committee.
I drank for the big parties, never did drugs or smokes, went to 3 proms with 1 limo and...
I married my high school sweetheart.
I know, i am a conundrum.
But I had some great friends
I'm about to date myself here. I'm a bit scared, so you'll have to promise me you'l still love me when you find out how old (young) I truly am.
I got an invitation for my high school 10 year reunion
yup.
10 years.
In case the math is deceiving you at the moment, that makes me *almost* 29.
Hey - don't think like that - back when I was in High School, Ontario had a standard 5th year of high school if you were continuing on to University. Dudes, really. Like I would spend more time in High School than absolutely necessary!
Ok. So. the invitation. ugh. To go or not to go.
Thoughts? Experiences? Next post tomorrow I'll expand on my high school experiences...
I was in the band.
I went to band camp.
I was a camp counsellor at band camp.
I played the Baritone and Trombone. No flute, thank god.
I played on the tennis team, soccer team, was on the yearbook committee.
I drank for the big parties, never did drugs or smokes, went to 3 proms with 1 limo and...
I married my high school sweetheart.
I know, i am a conundrum.
But I had some great friends
Maybe....
if *I* could fall asleep while eating I wouldn't be stuck with eating carrots and lettuce trying to loose weight.
Someone pass the sedatives please!
So I sayz to it cheese, "Fuhgeddaboutit!"
Some days, I don't cook lunch.
*gasp* *shudder* *faint*
I know, I know, I should go to the box and feel shame.
Some days we've been out all morning running errands, and some mornings we've been inside in our pajamas the whole time. And yet other mornings...wait, is there another kind of morning?
Well, regardless, somedays I just can't bring myself to cook. So we make smorgasborgs.
I love me some smorgasborgs.
A smorgasborg is pretty much whatever you want it to be. In this case, it was some veggie chips, cheese, olives, grapes, pickles and yogurt. Sight unseen was the hard boiled egg, but that never lasts long on a plate! I try to hit as many food groups as time, and my fridge, will allow. And it takes all of 5 seconds, which could be argued as being an even better quality as nutritionally equipped some days.
Try it. You'll love it.
The tongue has it.
Very nice, son, thank you SO much for sharing. SO much. How did you know that your tongue, in all it's glistening glory, was exactly what I needed to see. Seriously, how did you know? Cause I sure didn't know, but now I know. Know I do.
What is with my children and tongues? I swear my co-parent, sperm donor, husband o'-mine has a normal tongue, as do I (promise). So where oh where do these tongues come from?
Please tell me I'm not the only mother honoured in such a way. You have kids who do this too, right? RIGHT?! Anyone, anyone? Bueller, Bueller?
Look! Look look look!!
It's so exciting, i could pee my pants. It's the kind of excitement that keeps you up at night, gets you out of bed in the morning and makes you want to call every contact in your address book.
It's spine tingling, leg jiggling, teeth chattering, tummy tumbling, hair raising, toe curling, finger flexing, lip smacking, thigh clenching... pure, unadulterated joy.
People...
I found my vacuum
Thank you.
It's spine tingling, leg jiggling, teeth chattering, tummy tumbling, hair raising, toe curling, finger flexing, lip smacking, thigh clenching... pure, unadulterated joy.
People...
I found my vacuum
Thank you.
How I do breakfast sandwiches.
I like wearing my pajamas. I like it alot.
A real lot.
The problem with that is I also love the Coffee shop phenomena know as breakfast sandwiches. Oh yum, oh super super yum.
But being a pj lover makes getting my own breakfast sandwiches difficult, seeing as how I'm the new girl on the block and don't want my neighbors to *know* I'm a pj wearing SAHM. Just because the mail man, appliance repair man, tile guy, garbage man, gas guy and Newspaper girl know, doesn't mean it's ok that my neighbors know, ya know? Good, I'm glad you followed the logic on that one. It's simple, I swear.
So where does that leave little old me? PJ clad but with nary a sammie in sight. It's sad.
So I fixed it.
HOBOY did I fix it, yum!
See, i discovered this lone, sorely neglected roll of pillsbury crescent rolls (yum).
And then I found some cheese. And leftover blackforest ham.
And a light bulb went off.
yup, i did that. And they were goooood.
But I didn't stop there.
And if you can keep a secret, I'll tell you. Shhhh, this is between you and me, k? ok.
I made chocolate ones too
It was only logical that I sprinkle some sugar on the chocolate ones, you know, so I could tell them apart when I go to put the leftovers away (haha, leftovers, I so funny)
DEAR LORD were they good. oh man, the melted cheese, the hot ham, the light and fluffy and buttery goodness of the bun....
yeah. YUM.
hey, it's not a Julia Child's recipe. But dammit, it's good.
A real lot.
The problem with that is I also love the Coffee shop phenomena know as breakfast sandwiches. Oh yum, oh super super yum.
But being a pj lover makes getting my own breakfast sandwiches difficult, seeing as how I'm the new girl on the block and don't want my neighbors to *know* I'm a pj wearing SAHM. Just because the mail man, appliance repair man, tile guy, garbage man, gas guy and Newspaper girl know, doesn't mean it's ok that my neighbors know, ya know? Good, I'm glad you followed the logic on that one. It's simple, I swear.
So where does that leave little old me? PJ clad but with nary a sammie in sight. It's sad.
So I fixed it.
HOBOY did I fix it, yum!
See, i discovered this lone, sorely neglected roll of pillsbury crescent rolls (yum).
And then I found some cheese. And leftover blackforest ham.
And a light bulb went off.
yup, i did that. And they were goooood.
But I didn't stop there.
And if you can keep a secret, I'll tell you. Shhhh, this is between you and me, k? ok.
I made chocolate ones too
It was only logical that I sprinkle some sugar on the chocolate ones, you know, so I could tell them apart when I go to put the leftovers away (haha, leftovers, I so funny)
DEAR LORD were they good. oh man, the melted cheese, the hot ham, the light and fluffy and buttery goodness of the bun....
yeah. YUM.
hey, it's not a Julia Child's recipe. But dammit, it's good.
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