As A Mother

This post is dedicated to one of my best friends of all time, who, with the joyous birth of her son this morning, was herself reborn - as a mother. 

I wrote this a few weeks ago but, as I've been neglecting my little blog, hadn't gotten around to posting it yet.  I figure today is the day to hit the "publish" button, since this  everything I want her to know about motherhood.  I only hope it isn't too dark for such a happy occasion.

As a mother, your life will be forever changed.

As a mother, you will have some of the highest highs and lowest lows you have ever experienced in life.

As a mother, you will come to know certain things. You will develop a sixth sense.  You will become just the slightest bit clairvoyant.

As a mother, you will be a small being's source of nourishment, source of comfort, and whole world.

As a mother, you will know if your child is feverish just by brushing your lips against his forehead.

As a mother, you will sacrifice.

As a mother, your best self and your worst self will meet and shake hands. On a regular basis.

As a mother, you will be needed at just the moment when you thought you could give no more.

As a mother, you will dig down, dig in, dig deep.

As a mother, you will hold on.

As a mother, you will sometimes have to let go.

As a mother, you will deliver magic healing kisses.

As a mother, you will know a new, somewhat uncomfortable, level of vulnerability.

As a mother, you will be your own worst critic.

As a mother, you will find hidden reserves of patience you had no idea you possessed.

As a mother, you will worship ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.

As a mother, you will experience an unearthly connection to another soul.

As a mother, you will make mistakes.

As a mother, you will have to forgive yourself.

As a mother, you will know a love like no other.

Henry James: A Birth Story

It's been 2 weeks since the labour and delivery that brought us our beautiful, chubby, snuggly chunk of baby on the morning of August 14th. About time that I tell his birth story.

At almost a week overdue, I was starting to lose my sanity.  I was drinking copious quantities of raspberry leaf tea and doing squats and lunges in front of the TV with no results, so I decided to step things up a bit.  Our doula, who is also a registered acupuncturist, had been doing some preparatory acupuncture, and at this point, she agreed it was time to get serious. So at six days overdue, I had induction acupuncture and was told to stay active that day.  I headed to the gym for some elliptical action and barely sat down all day.  I also saw my doc and had a membrane sweep.  I was fairly confident that all of these efforts, combined, would soon bring me my baby boy.

Sure enough, at 2:30 am, I woke up with mild contractions and a sense of anticipation and crossed my fingers that it wasn't all in my head.  By 3:30 I was sure, and woke up the Hubs, who started timing.  By 6:30, Lilah's grandparents had arrived to feed her breakfast and take her to daycare, and our doula walked in the door around the same time.  By 7:30, my contractions were about three minutes apart and were lasting about a minute. It was time to head to the hospital.

The car ride to the hospital seemed to take forever, and I remember hitting a few bumps in the road while I was mid-contraction.  So painful.  We made it to the hospital and checked in around 8.  Apparently, it was a very busy Tuesday morning, and I lucked out and got the very last room.  The woman who delivered her baby half an hour after me had to do it in an assessment room with only a curtain separating her from the rest of the room.  Word to the wise: don't be afraid to moan and groan your way through contractions while checking in at the hospital.  The squeaky wheel gets the grease.  I was ushered directly into that last delivery room based on the noises coming from deep within me.

Luck was definitely on our side this time.  Things just went so... smoothly.  Doors opened for us, elevators were ready and waiting, and things lined up just the way they were supposed to.  Such a different experience from the one I had with Lilah.

This time, I got my natural, unmedicated, uncomplicated labour and delivery and the whole thing took just seven hours from start to finish.  Henry was born at 9:30 am, just an hour and a half after we arrived at the hospital, and the whole affair was just so beautiful and messy and uninhibited.  As a naturally reserved person, I surprised myself, and if I hadn't been in the midst of it; if I had been just a bystander walking down the hallway of the maternity wing around 9 that morning, I would have thought to myself, "Who's the screamer in room 15?"  The only word to describe it is primal.  And for me, that was perfect.  Just like the beautiful baby boy who was deposited into my arms at the end of it all.

Perfection in a tiny package.

That's 9lbs, 7.7 oz, by the way!

Big sister Lilah thinks he's pretty great too:

 

 

 

 

 

Ten Things I'd Forgotten About Having a New Baby

I'm breaking the rules for this weeks Listicle.  I am completely consumed by this tiny new being and this new way of life that he brings with him.  And I hope the List Master will forgive me for saying this, but in my opinion, new baby smell trumps new car smell any day!

Ten Things I'd Forgotten About Having a New Baby

1. How little sleep you actually get, and what sleep deprivation can do to your brain.

2.  That smell of absolute deliciousness. Even before they've had their first bath.

3.  Fluid retention and cankles.

4.  That I may want to throttle the Hubs when he asks if this is the first time the baby has woken to feed, when in fact it is the fourth.  But that all will be forgiven the moment he hands me a icy cold glass of water while I'm nursing, makes me a sandwich, or takes the baby from me at 4 am when my poor boobs just can't take any more and I need half an hour of sleep.

5.  That "sleep when the baby sleeps" isn't always possible.  There are other things to be done, like eating, showering, laundry, and this time around, there's also a big kid to look after.

6.  The hormone dip that occurs around day 3 after baby is born and reduces you to tears over the fact that the one pair of pants that fits you right now is in desperate need of a wash.

7.  That there is nothing as rejuvenating as 10 minutes to yourself to shower.

8.  Planting kisses on tiny hands and feet.

(Yes, those are flowers and butterflies on his bassinet sheets. Second child syndrome.)

9.  How long it takes for the belly to recede, and how pregnant you still look even a week after your tenant has vacated. 

10.  That friends and family are absolutely amazing.  There have already been so many gifts and offers of food and play dates for Lilah.  And our fridge has never been so stocked!  It reminds me how fortunate we are and makes me want to be a better friend/neighbour/relative when it's our turn to give back.

Henry

The first time I looked into his eyes

I fell in love again.

Tuesday, August 14, 9:33 am

Confessions of a Massively Pregnant Crazy Woman

This is a Monday Listicle on a Tuesday, so clearly I am late.  That seems to be a general theme in my life these days, seeing as today is baby #2's due date, and there is very little indication that he is planning to show up for his own party anytime soon.  Like his older sister was three years ago, he is content to hang out a little longer on the inside.  I'm going to chalk it all up to the fact that I give good womb.  There are worse things in life, I do realize.

Remember a couple weeks ago, when I was all Zen about waiting for baby to arrive?  Well, I'm doing my best to stay in that headspace, and I'm certainly not as manic as I was around this time with Lilah, but hormones, heat, and chasing after a three-year-old are doing things to my brain.  I think I might be turning into that crazy pregnant lady again.  Here are my confessions:

1.  Yesterday I called the Hubs to pick us up in his car because I could not walk three more blocks with Lilah.  In my defense, we had gotten on the wrong bus on the way back from Science World, got stuck on said bus for an extra 15 minutes due to construction, the bus was crowded and cooking in the heat and humidity, Lilah was complaining that she was thirsty and had to poop, and I'd already walked several long blocks after getting off the bus. Aaannnd the last three blocks would have been uphill.  (Okay, a slight incline, but still...)

2.  The other day, I sneeze-peed. That was a new experience for me, and not one with which I am altogether comfortable.

3.  I haven't been sleeping well at night, and last night the Toopy & Binoo theme song taunted me by playing itself over and over again in my head all. night. long.

4.  As much as I want to enjoy Lilah's last moments as an only child and make them special for her, I'm falling down on the job a bit.  Fatigue, heat, and hormones are making it challenging to always be as patient as I would like to be.

5.  Right now, I easily weigh as much, if not more than, my 6'2'' husband. 

6.  The skin over my abdomen is stretched so tight that if this baby doesn't come out the traditional way soon, I am convinced my skin may just tear open.

7.  As uncomfortable as it is, I'd be  more than willing to let my doc get all up in my lady biznaz at my next appointment if it brings me any closer to meeting this little guy.

8.  My feet are dirty, sweaty, and stinky all the time.  The only shoes I can fit my swollen feet into right now are cheap rubber flip-flops, which make them sweat like crazy and pick up all kinds of dirt.  I have to bathe my feet every night before getting into bed.

9.  I no longer fit into any of my maternity pants, so I'm alternating between three or four summer dresses.  It's getting a little old.

10.  People keep accusing me of having had conversations with them of which I have zero recollection.  Either it's one giant conspiracy, or I really am losing my mind!

Looking Forward

1. Share one good thing you're looking forward to.

 



  

Well, obviously:

I am beyond excited to meet this little man. 

But. My doctor (who I see weekly, at this stage) keeps asking me how ready I am to have this baby, like she's expecting me to be tearing my hair out by now. 

My strategy this time around is to just go with the flow.  I made the mistake of trying to steer the river when I was pregnant with Lilah, or at the very least, of fretting and fussing about where the river was taking me. 

Granted, I was more than a week overdue in the middle of a rare Vancouver heatwave and puffed up like a blowfish, but all of my futile flailing meant that I did not enjoy my last couple of weeks of solitude the way I now wish I had.

Now I see this time before baby comes as a precious gift.  He will get here, and our joy will be the same whether he comes tomorrow or three weeks from now.  But these are our last days as a family of three; Lilah's last days as an only child; my last paid vacation days. And I want to savour them. 

I want to spend time with my girl. I want to sit in the rocker in the baby's room and daydream about what it will be like to hold him.  I want to carefully pack and repack my hospital bag until it contains just the right combination of things to surround myself with during labour and things for after his arrival. 

Just as Lilah did, this baby will come when he is good and ready.  So for now, I will sit back, let nature take its course, and let the river take me where it will.

Don’t try to steer the river.

~~Deepak Chopra

Anecdotes from the Delivery Room

As Lilah's first birthday quickly approaches, I can't help but think about the events that took place a year ago as she made her way into the world. Because I started this blog when Lilah was almost seven months old, I have yet to share the story of her birth, and now seems like as good a time as any. I will spare you all the ins and outs of the 50 hour* ordeal and just cut to the "highlights".

*50 hours. For realz, people. "C'mon, you're exaggerating," you say. I am SO not. I started timing contractions just before midnight on Tuesday, June 30th. Lilah was born at 1:30 am on Friday, July 3.

Okay, so I was exaggerating. 49.5 hours. I stand corrected.

• In Labour and Delivery, we somehow ended up with the bum room. No joke. Every thing that could possibly be wrong with this room was. The bed would get stuck in a partially-reclined position and need to be joggled to go all the way down (and if you've ever participated in childbirth, you know that the bed goes up and down A LOT, as a woman in labour is notoriously fickle when it comes to positioning), the portable fetal heart monitor was broken, and worst of all, the sink in the room was plugged. Each time medical personnel entered my room, they needed to wash their hands, so a clogged sink simply would not do. A plumber was called, but apparently this was not a straightforward clog. After what seemed like hours, the guy finally broke out his (very noisy) drill. But of course, the drill battery died, and instead of going to get a fresh battery himself, he called another plumber. So there I was, labouring away behind a thin curtain, with not one but two Mr. Fix-its in the room, discussing their plans for the weekend and expounding the virtues of various drill bits. Awesome.
  

The lower portion of the two pokiest plumbers on earth.

• My doc broke my water to try to speed things up, but there must have been a pocket of fluid that stayed intact because it burst later in quite a dramatic fashion - just as our doula was putting herself in the line of fire to take a peek. Apparently years of helping women birth babies had helped her hone her cat-like reflexes, and she managed to jump out of the way in the nick of time, but she was very nearly collateral damage. It takes a special kind of person to become a birth doula, I tell ya! (And no, I don't have a picture of that.)

• Did you know they let people call through to the labour and delivery rooms while a woman is in labour? After I was given my epidural, just as I was *attempting* to doze off (this after two and a half days of zero sleep, mind you), I heard this faint ringing sound. Like an old rotary phone. It was like something out of the Matrix! The Hubs and I stared at each other for several moments, both at a total loss. Then he started digging and finally found the phone under piles of clothing and bags and random medical periphernalia. It was my mom, calling to say, "Hi honey, how are you doing?" Ummm... I'm in labour, and I have been for almost two days now, how do you think I'm doing?


• Oh, and you know that gas they give you when you're feeling pain from oxytocin-enhanced contractions and you're waiting for your epidural to kick in? That is really good stuff. I highly recommend it. I even made the Hubs sneak some while the nurses weren't looking.
  

I think this picture speaks for itself. I should be a spokesmodel for nitrous oxide.

• After I had been pushing for about two and a half hours and we could finally see and feel the top of Lilah's head, the Hubs points to a clippy-thingy-doodad hanging off the epidural line and says, "Um, is that supposed to just be hanging off there like that?" Having the epidural clip fall out after you have been pushing for hours and are finally making some good headway (hah! see what I did there?) is not a good thing, as I came to find out. Since I was being intermittently bombarded by threats of a C-section by the obstetrician's 5th year resident, they would not let me keep pushing sans anesthetic. (Trust me, I begged.) So the proceedings were halted as we waited for the anesthetist to return and stick a big fat needle perilously close to my precious cerebrospinal fluid. For a second time.
  
• And now I will finally cut to the chase: Lilah was born at 1:31 am on Friday, July 3. With a teeny bit of help from the vacuum extractor. But I swear I really did most of the work myself!

The Li'l Lilahbility at about 10 minutes old.

Congratulations if you've made it all the way through this post. Almost impressive as surviving 49.5 hours of labour.

Nostalgia

I can't believe she was once this tiny...