Felix's Birth
So...were was I?
Oh yeah.
Bumpy boat rides, hour long walks, over a litre of raspberry leaf tea a day, entire evenings of bouncing on the exercise ball during Master Chef (yay Luca!!!) and other choice shows all did nada to help this baby on his sweet little way. I even borrowed my cousin's youth-sized bike to cruise around on whenever I got sick of walking in the evenings (translation of the word "cruise" in this instance: hunch over huge 38 week tummy while shocks send you wildly bouncing up and down at every tiny bump in the road - doing so may earn you some sympathetic cheers from teenage boys on their skateboards while you struggle up a slight incline and then whiz majestically down the hill after). Most of the real enjoyment from that period of time was being able to tell people it was my due date...yesterday...and watch their faces go from smiling to utter horror, and back away nervously, lest my water broke and they would have to personally deliver my baby.
Ok, so doing all that stuff didn't necessarily put me in to labour, and in my heart of hearts I knew it wasn't going to - in the end it's all about chemical reactions, hormonal shifts, blah blah blah. But I'm convinced it made some small difference, even if all it did was help me feel like I was participating in the grand event.
Let's settle in to Wednesday, July 31st. I had a doctor's appointment in the morning, which I was both excited about and disappointed for because I knew we would be discussing the "I" word (induction), if I didn't go in to labour on my own that week. I was two days overdue at this point, and feeling every second of it, but I most certainly wanted to avoid an induction if at all possible.
The great Dr.Kornelsen (funny story - my doctor here in Mission spent the first 5 years of his life in Rosenort, and his parents still live in the area! His dad was actually the principal of my mom-and-dad-in-law - but apparently there is no real relation to my husband's family. The Abbotsford-Manitoba connection is absolutely uncanny. Cooky in fact.) gave me and the baby the usual checkover and then announced that I was still only 2 cm (where I had been already for three weeks), and there were no other real changes. Then he proceeded to book me a non stress test for the next week, told me I had another week for the baby to come on his own, and that was that.
I drove home displeased and sulky. When I got there, Ty announced that we were going to get out of the house and see Despicable Me 2 in 3D with Hudson, and I'm so super glad we went! Turns out it was our last little family outing before the little one arrived, and is a fantastic memory (even though I wasn't in my finest form at the movie theatre when the attendant tried to stop me from going and buying a coffee - rest assured, he got the death stare, and from a giant pregnant lady nonetheless).
Later that evening I was feeling a little more positive. Braxton Hicks were going strong, but they had been for a couple of months, so it was nothing of concern. I took a long walk by myself and was planning on settling in for some Master Chef, when all of a sudden an idea flew in to my funnel (sorry, I've been watching too much Thomas and Friends apparently) :
I hopped on You Tube and looked up "accupressure for jump starting labour" and found a video that showed which spots to press and massage for getting your body to go in to labour (well...tipping it over basically...the baby still needs to be "ready" in order for this to work). So during the show, I kept pressing these different points (so hard I had bruises from it, in fact!) and I SWEAR I felt the baby move down. The pressure in my lower tummy just all of sudden felt different. I was skeptical though, and went to bed like normal.
However, at midnight my contractions were all of a sudden causing me to moan, groan, and curl up on my side...and I knew something was happening. I got out of bed and in to the bath, then had to get up and walk around when they started getting even worse. I bounced on the ball, ate some frozen blueberries, then decided I would get back in to bed and try to rest in between (they were about 10 minutes apart still), just in case this was the real deal and I was going to be in for a long day. After I lay down, they calmed down and were about 15 minutes apart, but I was still convinced that this was HAPPENING. And this is the part where after several weeks of pleading to go in to labour, I all of a sudden took it all back. I was experiencing back contractions again, which are seriously painful - even at that point I was asking Ty to squeeze my hips just to get through them.
At about 5 a.m. I called my mom and let her know that we would be dropping Hudson off when he woke up, even though I knew that we probably wouldn't be heading in to the hospital for awhile (I didn't want him to see me hunched over in pain all morning long, especially if he figured out that the baby was somehow involved). By 7:30a.m. Hudson was up, and after pretending I was "singing" through two contractions so I wouldn't freak him out, we quickly got him dressed and out the door. Once Ty was home again, we took a short walk around the block where I had to clutch on to his arm with my I'm-having-a-baby death grip and after we returned home and breathed through a few more contractions (about 5 minutes apart at this time), I decided it was time to call maternity triage and see what they wanted me to do. The nurse I spoke to said we should come in fairly soon, as this was my second baby, and things may go faster than the first time around. I was relieved that things were moving along, and so went to finish packing the hospital bag with the little things you can only pack at the end, and then I went and cleaned the bathroom because for some reason I got it in my head that there was no way I was bringing my baby home to a house with a smudgy bathroom mirror.
We arrived at the hospital at 11:00a.m. and was assessed by the nurse I spoke to on the phone, and she gave me the news that I was now 5cm, which I was happy with. I was shown to my room, and told I would meet the doctor shortly, so while we waited, we took a stroll around the ward (translation of word "stroll" in this instance: waddle several steps, then grab on to husband's arm with your garbage compactor hands and bury face in shoulder while saying through gritted teeth, "No not again. Not again. Please no," while wide eyed onlookers pass by and say things like, "Awww, she's having a baby!").
Back at my room, I met my doctor (not Dr.Kornelsen, boo, but a fantastic doctor nonetheless, yay), who told me she had some c-sections to take care of, then would come see me by 3:00p.m. to break my water if it hadn't happened on it's own yet. It was noon by now, so I convinced myself that I could probably handle three more hours of contractions, though they were about 3 minutes apart and only getting worse. I also met my nurse, Heidi, who was the best nurse I could have asked for. She was SO supportive of me wanting to have a drug free labour, as she had done so herself with her own babies, but told me any time I changed my mind, all I had to do was ask. She reassured me that my gas tank would never be empty if that's what I wanted, and if I planned on spending the whole day in the tub, then that was fine too.
Check and check. Mr.Gas and I were like this (cross first two fingers) most of the day, and I did indeed spend most of my labour in that giant bathtub. Ty was so great during that time, helping me with whatever I needed him to do, no breaks allowed (he made an effort to go sit on the couch and read Harry Potter once but I called him back immediately!). His job was a little easier than last time though - instead of needing him to apply mega pressure on my hips every 3 or less minutes, all that was required of him was to faithfully dump warm water on my lower back whenever I had a contraction while I bit the gas pipe with my teeth (it was permanently wedged in between the edge of the tub and my mouth ) and went into la la land for the briefest (and sweetest) moment.
3:00pm came and went, but Heidi assured me that Dr.Aiton was on her way up to the ward soon, and just kept encouraging me through the process.
Finally, at long last, the doctor was ready to check on my progress, which was music to my ears because at this point the contractions were one on top of the other without any break. I actually told my nurse I didn't think I'd be able to make it to the bed, but step by step I made it. Dr.Aiton checked me over and told me I was 8cm. I practically shouted, "Thankyou Jesus!!!" which earned me a laugh from the doctor and the nurse, though I didn't intend to - I was just SO relieved that all those contractions were getting me somewhere. Dr.Aiton then asked if she could break my water, which I obviously agreed to, and right afterwards asked if I could get back in the bath, thinking I had a whole afternoon of contractions to contend with before push time. I didn't know it at the time but everyone in the room was giving each other looks of confusion at my request, but all my nurse said to me that yes, that would be fine if that's what I wanted. Apparently they all knew something that I didn't - that after the water was broken, this baby would be coming! I said I would wait until the next contraction had come and gone before making my journey back to the tub, but when it hit, I finally figured out what everyone else already knew. I hurriedly scrambled back on to the bed and announced that I felt like I needed to push. The doctor checked me again, and told me that I was now 10cm, and it was time to get that baby out.
I pushed for 2.5 hours with Hudson, and I was getting all ready for more of the same, so I was surprised (and a little horrified) that this time the pushing was so much more intense. I can't describe it. All I remember is that I kept saying "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't" whenever another contraction would roll over me and I knew it was time to use everything within to bring that baby down and out. I recall looking wild-eyed at the doctor and nurse, just hoping and praying someone would tell me that I didn't need to do this anymore, that I could just opt out and go home. Ty began to speak at one point and I shushed him (later I found out that he was trying to pray out loud for me!!), knowing that I needed complete concentration to get the task done. A couple more pushes came and went and I could tell things were progressing, and Heidi kept complimenting me on my pushing technique (this one I'm owing to all that raspberry leaf tea!), which helped a little. Dr. Aiton then said that she had to check on a couple other patients, but would be back in a few minutes, and to just keep doing what I'm doing.
But she wouldn't be gone for long.
The next contraction hit and evidently my pushing was TOO efficient, because all of a sudden the baby was coming out, with only my one nurse present. She immediately put pressure where the baby's head was and told Ty to ring for the doctor. He was a tad flustered and did not want to bother with the call bell so ran to the hallway to yell for her. The doctor ran back in with another nurse, and did not even wait for the next contraction before telling me to push gently.
A head here, and a shoulder there, and at 4:23pm he was out!
Oh yeah.
Bumpy boat rides, hour long walks, over a litre of raspberry leaf tea a day, entire evenings of bouncing on the exercise ball during Master Chef (yay Luca!!!) and other choice shows all did nada to help this baby on his sweet little way. I even borrowed my cousin's youth-sized bike to cruise around on whenever I got sick of walking in the evenings (translation of the word "cruise" in this instance: hunch over huge 38 week tummy while shocks send you wildly bouncing up and down at every tiny bump in the road - doing so may earn you some sympathetic cheers from teenage boys on their skateboards while you struggle up a slight incline and then whiz majestically down the hill after). Most of the real enjoyment from that period of time was being able to tell people it was my due date...yesterday...and watch their faces go from smiling to utter horror, and back away nervously, lest my water broke and they would have to personally deliver my baby.
Ok, so doing all that stuff didn't necessarily put me in to labour, and in my heart of hearts I knew it wasn't going to - in the end it's all about chemical reactions, hormonal shifts, blah blah blah. But I'm convinced it made some small difference, even if all it did was help me feel like I was participating in the grand event.
Let's settle in to Wednesday, July 31st. I had a doctor's appointment in the morning, which I was both excited about and disappointed for because I knew we would be discussing the "I" word (induction), if I didn't go in to labour on my own that week. I was two days overdue at this point, and feeling every second of it, but I most certainly wanted to avoid an induction if at all possible.
The great Dr.Kornelsen (funny story - my doctor here in Mission spent the first 5 years of his life in Rosenort, and his parents still live in the area! His dad was actually the principal of my mom-and-dad-in-law - but apparently there is no real relation to my husband's family. The Abbotsford-Manitoba connection is absolutely uncanny. Cooky in fact.) gave me and the baby the usual checkover and then announced that I was still only 2 cm (where I had been already for three weeks), and there were no other real changes. Then he proceeded to book me a non stress test for the next week, told me I had another week for the baby to come on his own, and that was that.
I drove home displeased and sulky. When I got there, Ty announced that we were going to get out of the house and see Despicable Me 2 in 3D with Hudson, and I'm so super glad we went! Turns out it was our last little family outing before the little one arrived, and is a fantastic memory (even though I wasn't in my finest form at the movie theatre when the attendant tried to stop me from going and buying a coffee - rest assured, he got the death stare, and from a giant pregnant lady nonetheless).
Later that evening I was feeling a little more positive. Braxton Hicks were going strong, but they had been for a couple of months, so it was nothing of concern. I took a long walk by myself and was planning on settling in for some Master Chef, when all of a sudden an idea flew in to my funnel (sorry, I've been watching too much Thomas and Friends apparently) :
I hopped on You Tube and looked up "accupressure for jump starting labour" and found a video that showed which spots to press and massage for getting your body to go in to labour (well...tipping it over basically...the baby still needs to be "ready" in order for this to work). So during the show, I kept pressing these different points (so hard I had bruises from it, in fact!) and I SWEAR I felt the baby move down. The pressure in my lower tummy just all of sudden felt different. I was skeptical though, and went to bed like normal.
However, at midnight my contractions were all of a sudden causing me to moan, groan, and curl up on my side...and I knew something was happening. I got out of bed and in to the bath, then had to get up and walk around when they started getting even worse. I bounced on the ball, ate some frozen blueberries, then decided I would get back in to bed and try to rest in between (they were about 10 minutes apart still), just in case this was the real deal and I was going to be in for a long day. After I lay down, they calmed down and were about 15 minutes apart, but I was still convinced that this was HAPPENING. And this is the part where after several weeks of pleading to go in to labour, I all of a sudden took it all back. I was experiencing back contractions again, which are seriously painful - even at that point I was asking Ty to squeeze my hips just to get through them.
At about 5 a.m. I called my mom and let her know that we would be dropping Hudson off when he woke up, even though I knew that we probably wouldn't be heading in to the hospital for awhile (I didn't want him to see me hunched over in pain all morning long, especially if he figured out that the baby was somehow involved). By 7:30a.m. Hudson was up, and after pretending I was "singing" through two contractions so I wouldn't freak him out, we quickly got him dressed and out the door. Once Ty was home again, we took a short walk around the block where I had to clutch on to his arm with my I'm-having-a-baby death grip and after we returned home and breathed through a few more contractions (about 5 minutes apart at this time), I decided it was time to call maternity triage and see what they wanted me to do. The nurse I spoke to said we should come in fairly soon, as this was my second baby, and things may go faster than the first time around. I was relieved that things were moving along, and so went to finish packing the hospital bag with the little things you can only pack at the end, and then I went and cleaned the bathroom because for some reason I got it in my head that there was no way I was bringing my baby home to a house with a smudgy bathroom mirror.
We arrived at the hospital at 11:00a.m. and was assessed by the nurse I spoke to on the phone, and she gave me the news that I was now 5cm, which I was happy with. I was shown to my room, and told I would meet the doctor shortly, so while we waited, we took a stroll around the ward (translation of word "stroll" in this instance: waddle several steps, then grab on to husband's arm with your garbage compactor hands and bury face in shoulder while saying through gritted teeth, "No not again. Not again. Please no," while wide eyed onlookers pass by and say things like, "Awww, she's having a baby!").
Back at my room, I met my doctor (not Dr.Kornelsen, boo, but a fantastic doctor nonetheless, yay), who told me she had some c-sections to take care of, then would come see me by 3:00p.m. to break my water if it hadn't happened on it's own yet. It was noon by now, so I convinced myself that I could probably handle three more hours of contractions, though they were about 3 minutes apart and only getting worse. I also met my nurse, Heidi, who was the best nurse I could have asked for. She was SO supportive of me wanting to have a drug free labour, as she had done so herself with her own babies, but told me any time I changed my mind, all I had to do was ask. She reassured me that my gas tank would never be empty if that's what I wanted, and if I planned on spending the whole day in the tub, then that was fine too.
Check and check. Mr.Gas and I were like this (cross first two fingers) most of the day, and I did indeed spend most of my labour in that giant bathtub. Ty was so great during that time, helping me with whatever I needed him to do, no breaks allowed (he made an effort to go sit on the couch and read Harry Potter once but I called him back immediately!). His job was a little easier than last time though - instead of needing him to apply mega pressure on my hips every 3 or less minutes, all that was required of him was to faithfully dump warm water on my lower back whenever I had a contraction while I bit the gas pipe with my teeth (it was permanently wedged in between the edge of the tub and my mouth ) and went into la la land for the briefest (and sweetest) moment.
3:00pm came and went, but Heidi assured me that Dr.Aiton was on her way up to the ward soon, and just kept encouraging me through the process.
Finally, at long last, the doctor was ready to check on my progress, which was music to my ears because at this point the contractions were one on top of the other without any break. I actually told my nurse I didn't think I'd be able to make it to the bed, but step by step I made it. Dr.Aiton checked me over and told me I was 8cm. I practically shouted, "Thankyou Jesus!!!" which earned me a laugh from the doctor and the nurse, though I didn't intend to - I was just SO relieved that all those contractions were getting me somewhere. Dr.Aiton then asked if she could break my water, which I obviously agreed to, and right afterwards asked if I could get back in the bath, thinking I had a whole afternoon of contractions to contend with before push time. I didn't know it at the time but everyone in the room was giving each other looks of confusion at my request, but all my nurse said to me that yes, that would be fine if that's what I wanted. Apparently they all knew something that I didn't - that after the water was broken, this baby would be coming! I said I would wait until the next contraction had come and gone before making my journey back to the tub, but when it hit, I finally figured out what everyone else already knew. I hurriedly scrambled back on to the bed and announced that I felt like I needed to push. The doctor checked me again, and told me that I was now 10cm, and it was time to get that baby out.
I pushed for 2.5 hours with Hudson, and I was getting all ready for more of the same, so I was surprised (and a little horrified) that this time the pushing was so much more intense. I can't describe it. All I remember is that I kept saying "I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't" whenever another contraction would roll over me and I knew it was time to use everything within to bring that baby down and out. I recall looking wild-eyed at the doctor and nurse, just hoping and praying someone would tell me that I didn't need to do this anymore, that I could just opt out and go home. Ty began to speak at one point and I shushed him (later I found out that he was trying to pray out loud for me!!), knowing that I needed complete concentration to get the task done. A couple more pushes came and went and I could tell things were progressing, and Heidi kept complimenting me on my pushing technique (this one I'm owing to all that raspberry leaf tea!), which helped a little. Dr. Aiton then said that she had to check on a couple other patients, but would be back in a few minutes, and to just keep doing what I'm doing.
But she wouldn't be gone for long.
The next contraction hit and evidently my pushing was TOO efficient, because all of a sudden the baby was coming out, with only my one nurse present. She immediately put pressure where the baby's head was and told Ty to ring for the doctor. He was a tad flustered and did not want to bother with the call bell so ran to the hallway to yell for her. The doctor ran back in with another nurse, and did not even wait for the next contraction before telling me to push gently.
A head here, and a shoulder there, and at 4:23pm he was out!
My perfect baby.
He was plunked on my chest, crying, and so amazing. He was EXACTLY the baby that I pictured growing inside of me for the previous 40 weeks, and suited his name, Felix David, perfectly. He nursed almost immediately, and we spent the next hour skin-to-skin (an amazing policy of the Abbotsford hospital...if there is no immediate concern, they don't take the baby at all until that first hour is up, and even then it's only for a brief assessment, weight, etc.). Amazingly I felt pretty good almost right away (though shaky and sore!), and was able to get up and shower and have supper.
Later that evening one of the nurses assessing Felix thought she heard an extra heart sound when she was listening to his chest, and said she would make note to tell the doctor the next day. When the next day came around, several doctors were in and out listening to our brand new baby's heart, as well as a tech doing an EKG, and finally he was seen by a pediatrician who told us he had a heart murmur, which likely meant a hole in his heart, and would need follow up with BC Children's hospital. I was a little worried, until the doctor assured me that if it was an immediate concern, they wouldn't be sending us home. He told us what to look for, should the heart issue affect Felix's health, but otherwise we would need to take Felix for an echocardiogram sometime the following week.
First time meeting Big Bro.
We took Felix home later that day and settled in to that newborn whirlwind that tends to sweep you up for the first while (though it was much much easier this time around, even with a toddler in the mix!).
Things went by nicely for a few days - I was even up and out of the house without too much effort - and then came day 6.
We had been out at the splash park with our boys all afternoon, and then came home to a phone call from the Abbotsford health unit that went something like this, "Some ass came into the hospital with a known case of measles while you were there and coughed on all the doorknobs and now you and your baby have to come get a bunch of needles before you keel over." Something like that, if I remember correctly.
Basically a visitor of one of the other moms came in to the maternity ward on August 1st with a known case of measles, and now all of the moms and babies from that time period were being collected so that we could get inoculated with immunoglobulin (basically a high dose of antibodies to boost your immune system through the roof, not the measles vaccine), just in case we were exposed to this very serious disease.
Seriously.
So Felix and I hustled over to the health centre in Abbotsford and met a whole bunch of other families and their babies who all needed the same thing done for (to?) them. I met with a nurse who explained everything I needed to know about the injection (I asked a lot of questions!), and then decided that it would be worth it for Felix and I to take it. I hadn't had a recent measles shot, though I remember having a titre done in Winnipeg when I worked at the Grace Hospital, but thought I should get this just in case. I don't know if it was worth the four giant intramuscular needles I got in my hips and thighs that hurt for days afterwards, but whatever. It's done. As for Felix, I had to watch my 6 day old baby get a giant needle in his tiny little leg and scream, and all the while just wishing that the perpetrator could be sitting in the room (in a giant bubble of course) and see what they had caused.
Ok, so that was day 6.
Day 10 marked the day of our ultrasound for Felix's heart. We headed in to BC Children's in Vancouver that Monday to meet Dr.Human, a top pediatric heart specialist. First they did the ultrasound, which involved Felix and I spooning on an exam bed in a dark room while a technician used a doppler to take pictures of the various structures of the heart. Soon after, I met with a student doctor who took Felix's health history and assessed the murmur. Finally Dr.Human came in and, after grilling the nervous student on his assessment while I sat back and watched in amusement, told me that he had taken a look at the ultrasound, and all was well.
Nothing to worry about.
Apparently Felix does have a small hole in his heart, but it is very tiny, between the walls of the ventricles, and not near any valves. Basically it will grow closed as Felix grows, or if doesn't completely disappear, it will never have an effect on his health. We were, of course, thrilled at the news, and went home feeling so relieved.
Ok, so I feel like I can stop there. Phew! That was a bit of a journey. Thanks for hanging in there. As for me, I'm off to calm my less than newborn who is currently draped over Ty's arm crying and giving me the stink eye.
We had been out at the splash park with our boys all afternoon, and then came home to a phone call from the Abbotsford health unit that went something like this, "Some ass came into the hospital with a known case of measles while you were there and coughed on all the doorknobs and now you and your baby have to come get a bunch of needles before you keel over." Something like that, if I remember correctly.
Basically a visitor of one of the other moms came in to the maternity ward on August 1st with a known case of measles, and now all of the moms and babies from that time period were being collected so that we could get inoculated with immunoglobulin (basically a high dose of antibodies to boost your immune system through the roof, not the measles vaccine), just in case we were exposed to this very serious disease.
Seriously.
So Felix and I hustled over to the health centre in Abbotsford and met a whole bunch of other families and their babies who all needed the same thing done for (to?) them. I met with a nurse who explained everything I needed to know about the injection (I asked a lot of questions!), and then decided that it would be worth it for Felix and I to take it. I hadn't had a recent measles shot, though I remember having a titre done in Winnipeg when I worked at the Grace Hospital, but thought I should get this just in case. I don't know if it was worth the four giant intramuscular needles I got in my hips and thighs that hurt for days afterwards, but whatever. It's done. As for Felix, I had to watch my 6 day old baby get a giant needle in his tiny little leg and scream, and all the while just wishing that the perpetrator could be sitting in the room (in a giant bubble of course) and see what they had caused.
Ok, so that was day 6.
Day 10 marked the day of our ultrasound for Felix's heart. We headed in to BC Children's in Vancouver that Monday to meet Dr.Human, a top pediatric heart specialist. First they did the ultrasound, which involved Felix and I spooning on an exam bed in a dark room while a technician used a doppler to take pictures of the various structures of the heart. Soon after, I met with a student doctor who took Felix's health history and assessed the murmur. Finally Dr.Human came in and, after grilling the nervous student on his assessment while I sat back and watched in amusement, told me that he had taken a look at the ultrasound, and all was well.
Nothing to worry about.
Apparently Felix does have a small hole in his heart, but it is very tiny, between the walls of the ventricles, and not near any valves. Basically it will grow closed as Felix grows, or if doesn't completely disappear, it will never have an effect on his health. We were, of course, thrilled at the news, and went home feeling so relieved.
Ok, so I feel like I can stop there. Phew! That was a bit of a journey. Thanks for hanging in there. As for me, I'm off to calm my less than newborn who is currently draped over Ty's arm crying and giving me the stink eye.
Stink eyed baby. P.S. isn't he huge?
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