A Baby Is Born

It really is a life or death situation, childbirth. While I thankfully don't know anyone personally who has died doing it, I know of a couple people who've tragically lost their babies in the process. In fact, one of my great aunts lost her baby during childbirth and never had another one. When I was born she gave me the christening dress she'd had for her own baby. The older I get, the more I realize the miracle of certain things. And the more babies I've had, the more I've feared childbirth.

But, whew, I'm on the other side now! I don't have looming thoughts day and night of, "How is this baby gonna come out?"...done!! And...I'm remembering how postpartum is kinda like the 4th trimester. My self isn't quite back, and baby isn't quite wanting to be on the outside world just yet, and things hurt, and everyone is adjusting, and crying is common. But, here and there as I write this, baby is napping NOT in my arms for a small portion of this day, and so I want to record this before I start to develop childbirth amnesia. (*Why would anyone do it again if they DIDN'T get childbirth amnesia?!*)

I've written about each of my births on my family blog, and copied over I think one of them here. This one I'll put in both spots too. Cause many of you readers have been on the journey with me! So...here we go...

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Well Hosea is the one who predicted Baby Joey would be born on September 11. Greta thought the 4th, Simon thought Labour Day (!) to start the 6th and finish the 7th, I'd been guessing September 10 (the day I worked up until), his due date was the 12th, and Therese guessed the 13th (to which I told her, "You better be wrong!"...but MY birthday is on the 13th of a month so I also thought hey maybe that'd be nice!). 

I'd been having ever more intense practice contractions the last week or so leading up to the birth. Often waking me at night, and leaving me laying there thinking ok is this it? Keep going? When should I get up and tell Simon?? But then they'd stop within an hour, never getting very intense. I lost my plug, all that, a few days prior to as well. You moms know at the end every night you're kind of like, is it going to be tonight? Please not tonight?! Let me sleep and let's do this in the MORNING! 

So, on the 10th the kids and Simon went to the neighbourhood movie in the park. It'd been cancelled last year, due to the pandemic, but this year it was back on! I would've gone, but...yeah 9 months pregnant no thanks. I did, however, feel a little wistful, knowing I was missing out on yet another thing due to this pregnancy!!! But also, wow I had a "get out free" card for so many things! Gotta admit, that was kinda nice too. 

While they were gone I sat in my favourite place--the green chair in the living room with my feet propped on the exercise ball, reading my phone and watching informative videos about the pandemic! Ha! That's totally my thing these days, never to be forgotten. As I sat there I suddenly had a really strong contraction and thought it was gonna be time. I let Simon know to really be on standby in case I needed him home sooner. He'd been on pins and needles the last few weeks, the poor guy! He got his hopes up yet again, but when he contacted me a bit later and I told him nope it wasn't going anyway oh he was so disappointed. 

Around 9:30/10pm they all came home and we all went to bed. I woke again that night to strong contractions, and this time they lasted an hour and didn't stop---only got stronger---and started to be 3 minutes apart. So as I lay there I was pretty sure it was time. After this hour of it, that started at 2am, I went out to tell Simon (he often sleeps in the living room much of the night cause, for one thing, hey I'm picky when I'm pregnant!!!) and I could tell he didn't want to get toooooooo too excited yet, and also that he was taking it seriously cause he actually said maybe he should rest a bit more as things progressed. I agreed. I'd contract and stand by the slider by the balcony, looking at this light outside to help me focus. Gradually, as Simon got up, if he DARED to block that light or whatever I was looking at during the contraction, or if he DARED to speak to me during a contraction well I would have NONE of it! Real labour this time? Indeed!!

He very soon stopped resting and got in the kitchen and tidied things up. I didn't even suggest it! That's what kinda man that guy is most of the time! I felt so grateful listening to that as I paced around waiting for the next pain.

After the hour and a bit of this I decided it was time to call the midwife. Simon phoned and we got a call back and I let her know what was going on. Now, I'm not all that happy with the care I received this time around, and here's where it began: she suggested I give it another hour and a half and then phone her again! I'm thinking what?! This is my 4th baby, I can't talk thru the contractions, they're 3 minutes apart and have been so for more than an hour and you think I should WAIT?! I'd get that if it was my first, but....anyway, I did as she said, but phoned her in an hour, not an hour and a half. I was increasingly anxious about the journey to the hospital, and being there with access to pain meds before things got much more intense. Thankfully at 4:00am-ish she told me to come to the hospital and she'd be there in a bit to meet me.

Now was the time to phone around and see who'd be able to get us there! I didn't want to take a taxi cause I wanted the familiarity of a friend driving me, and I had a few who'd offered. The first one I called didn't answer! Twice! So I tried another! Twice! A couple of her numbers! Simon phoned his brother! No answer! I mean what could we expect it was like 4am. Ha! Oh but soon the second friend, Katharine, phoned back and was well on her way to get me. What a relief!

What to do with the kids? Well we'd told them that if they woke in the morning and we weren't here, and if I'd put Baby Joey's bouncy chair on the coffee table ("Why would you do that? Wouldn't we know where you were without you doing that?!") then to know we were at the hospital. I'd checked and their dad would be home the next day (thank you, Joey, for coordinating this for a Saturday!) and they could just walk over there in the morning. It was great not having to get someone to come over for the kids. And I knew they'd be SO EXCITED when they woke and we weren't home!!!

So! We get to the hospital. And yeah the bumps were horrible during contractions, just as I'd remembered from past labours. I was breathing through them alright, though, and it was so so nice to have a good friend take us there. She dropped us at the front and I was a bit jealous of her getting to go home and sleep...knowing what was in store for me! But I was also really excited and hopeful that it'd be smooth labour. 

The hospital was quiet, the nurses were so nice, they checked me in and got me the laughing gas immediately upon my request! YESSSSSSSSSSS!!! Oh that stuff is great. Just how I'd remembered it from years back.

Then a bit later the midwife showed up. And oh no she had to check my progress. Mamas...you know this drill. It's horrible, isn't it?!!!!!!! HORRIBLE!!!!!!! And this was THE MOST HORRIBLE CHECK EVER and I was even huffing on the laughing gas throughout! I had to tell her to stop I could not handle it anymore.

She seemed flustered and like she felt terrible cause I was sobbing. And angry. She said she couldn't quite get all the info but that it seemed I was only 1cm dilated.

WHAT?!!!!!!!!!! After weeks of practice contractions? 2 hours so far every 3 minutes? PAIN? 4th BABY?!!!

Then! She suggested I take some morphine for the pain and GO HOME SO I CAN NAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GO HOME?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yeah No Way. I outright refused, scoffing at the ridiculousness of the suggestion. I mean how would I even get home? What would happen while I was sleeping???!!!!! Was she out of her mind? (*Later I discovered this was standard practice for being at 1cm. Ok, makes sense for a first baby but a fourth? I keep myself pretty informed on these matters and it absolutely seems completely outlandish to me still.*) 

So did I mention I refused? Ha! I'm pretty assertive when I need to be and let me tell you during this labour I practiced my assertiveness a whole lot.

Ok so she goes and meets with the nurses so they can discuss what to do with their unruly patient! Awhile later she comes back and confirms I can stay (you BET I can!), and that they're gonna move me to my room upstairs, and it's a bit of a walk but I can't take the gas with me. So I'm dreading it.

Eventually they get me on a wheelchair and whisk me upstairs! I have a couple contractions in the process and practice vocalizing through them. In that moment I realize oh hey that really helps, the vocalizing! A small part of me thinks well maybe I should do THAT more often?! But then I get to the room where the gas is and lunge for it before another contraction hits. I'd set my mind to it that I'd use the gas, and then get the epidural before things got too crazy. With the girls I went full on natural (till my emergency cesarean with Greta) and did NOT want to experience that pain again if I didn't have to. 

The youngish and friendly anesthesiologist comes in not too long after all that and gets me hooked up. We all make some jokes in the process, and I can see my reflection in the mirror in the washroom there--the washroom I never used, ha! Thinking wow there I am, wow this is happening...they're sticking a needle in my spine. 

After the epidural I lay down and doze off for the next several hours. It was probably about 8am by this time and the midwife who'd been there went home and I was waiting for the next one to come in. This, too, was different than what I'd expected/experienced before! In the past the midwife stays with you the whole time, no changeover?! I hadn't anticipated this shuffling, but whatever I didn't really trust that first one anyway. See there are about 5 or so in the practice, that I'd been meeting with, but I swear I'd NEVER met her! And, because of the pandemic I had less appointments than one normally would, so I didn't feel a connection or familiarity with any of the midwives this time around, which was really unfortunate. 

Anyway, I napped, and Simon napped (kind of) and he brought me snacks like a cliff bar and the nurses brought me iced apple juice which was AMAZING!!!!!!

The other midwife arrived and after a bit, maybe at 10:30ish, she checked my progress--which was fine this time cause I was on the epidural AND topped myself off with the gas during the check, for good measure! She said, "Good for you, for advocating yourself", which I really appreciated. Then she told me she couldn't feel my cervix! So she was confused like hmmm maybe I'd made no progress (I swear that's what she'd implied) OR I was fully dilated! So, she went and got the OB to confirm and indeed I was FULLY DILATED. (Gee good thing I didn't go home on morphine to sleeeeeeeeeeeep!) 

Only thing was, no one could feel baby's head. He was too high up. They'd said that earlier as well. In fact, they'd been saying that for days. He was too high up.

So here...here's where I ALSO wonder well why didn't anyone do anything to try and get his head to come DOWN more? I didn't think of it at the time, but in hindsight it seems obvious. They wanted me to push now that I was fully dilated, and I had the use of my legs a bit even with the epidural, so they supported me in all these weird positions as I pushed for like an hour and a half. So why didn't they have me moving BEFORE the time to push? Why didn't they have me moving as I dilated?!...... Anyway, now they wanted me to push, and I had no urge to do so, but I knew when contractions were hitting me...it's just, well he was so high! The OB said his head was LOA (whatever that means) which was making it tricky so he suggested to push in one position in particular, which the midwives barely had me doing, after he left. And I didn't really know what the position was! Before he left, though, he said, "You've had big babies before, this is your 4th, you've got this. I hope I don't have to see you again!" with a smirk on his face. I basically said, "Yeah, likewise!" and felt encouraged.

But the pushing wasn't getting me anywhere except completely worn out. On a routine temperature check the nurse discovered that I now had a fever. No WONDER I was so worn out!! She gave me Tylenol. And THEN! She told me I had to do a covid test!!!!!!!!!! Cause of the fever!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was worn out but not too worn out not to be PISSED about this! I knew I didn't have covid. I just had a fever induced by the labour/epidural! I refused the test over and over, I asked for the gargle test and they said they didn't have it (ha! they're a CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL too!) I asked what would happen if I didn't take the test and they said they'd treat me as if I had covid and I'd be put in a special ward and all the staff would have to wear all their extra stuff. Yes, Simon could be with me but he'd have to wear extra stuff too. Yes, I could keep my baby with me and all that but I'd be treated as if I had covid. 

??????????????????????????????????

"So there's really no choice, is there?!" I raged. The nurse said it was just policy and to not blame her she was just enforcing the policy. I eventually told her I understood. Go ahead and do it. 

She did. And I think they started pumping me with antibiotics of some sort. Thank goodness I made my penicillin allergy clear to them! GEEEEEEEEEEESH.

Ok, so I rest a bit, I push some more. In between each push my sweet Simon gave me sips of water or juice, he held it right up to my mouth for me. At one point the nurse told me not to have anymore cause my bladder was getting too full. But I was SO THIRSTY!!! She said ok fine just a sip at a time. Simon was so sweet, cheering me on, giving me drinks, staying calm and being right there where I needed him. 

The OB came back--the nurse and midwife had been worriedly mumbling things about the baby's heart rate. It didn't sound good. The OB checked me again, said baby was still way too high up and no way could he do forceps even though he was the best at forceps in the whole province (ha!) and I was like yeah no that's fine. He said, "We need to get this baby out. We need to do a cesarean."

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I didn't fight it. I knew he was right at this point and didn't want to take any chances. 

What a disappointment, to say the least!!

And this is when things got dark for me. Very dark! All of the sudden people were rushing around all about me, new faces I hadn't seen before, everyone was masked. They put a mask on ME! I was so HOT AND SO THIRSTY AND THEY PUT A MASK ON ME! Then they covered me with blankets! I kept saying how hot and thirsty I was but no one seemed to care. They were telling Simon to go do this and that it seemed, as he wasn't anywhere near me anymore. They were reaching over me right over my face, covering my breathing even more and making me hotter. My epidural was wearing off, even though I'd pressed the button for an extra hit. I could now feel more of the contractions, more and more as each one came. Then they said I had to move to a different bed. I realized I wouldn't be in this nice room anymore, the room I'd hoped to give birth in. They moved me somehow and it was just horrible. I thought to myself just let me die, I can't do this. I'm going to die. I'm so hot. I'm going to feel the pain get worse and worse and all I can do is lay here as the epidural wears off. No one's giving me anything to drink and I'm so hot and I'm covered in all these things and they're going to cut me open next! (Simon this is why I'm never doing this again!!!) 

They wheel my bed out of the room and through all these hallways and I just stare at the ceiling and walls and try to think it's ok you've done this before it's ok maybe you'll just die soon it's ok they do these surgeries all day it's ok soon it will be over it's ok soon you'll have more pain meds it's ok it's ok it's ok. I saw the kind OB's face and he clarified again my penicillin allergy. I told him I was so hot and so thirsty. I don't think he did anything about it but his facial expression at least showed he'd heard and he cared. He was so kind and compassionate, that man. 

I got in the operating room and guess what they had to move my poor hugely pregnant body over to ANOTHER bed! Oh my goodness. So much rushing! And putting things in me! Then I finally see Simon--he'd changed into his OR clothes and there he was next to me. They put a curtain up at my midsection and I gradually started to feel more relaxed and less pain as I was filled with more meds. Oh those anesthesiologists I love them so very much!!!

Soon, so soon, I hear a baby cry! I yell for Simon does he hear that?! Does he see the baby is out?! Simon is like shrieking with absolute joy over and over and over again!!! He's videoing the whole thing! We got it all on video those first few moments of Joey being out and the joy in our voices! Oh I could watch that video over and over again it's so wonderful. And I can't help but draw parallels to how we got our first few moments on audio, the first few moments Simon and I met! And now we've got the first few moments of our son's life on video! 

What a relief to my body when he came out. I felt such a huge weight lifted off of me--having been laying flat on my back while getting all prepped for that. Completely squished! 

The joy and relief I felt were quickly surpassed, though, by the overwhelming nausea I suddenly felt. 
Simon was in pure heaven videoing Joey and I was saying to people, "I think I'm gonna puke! I'm so nauseous!" so someone got me a bucket and I dry heaved over and over into it while the surgeons forcefully put me back together on the other side of that curtain. No I couldn't feel any pain, but I felt like the scarecrow in Wizard of Oz when they're taking out/rearranging his stuffing. Ugh. It's disgusting and I felt all too aware of what was happening as I was dry heaving. 

But then finally it was all over. And I was stitched up, not puking, and I was holding baby right there with Simon lovingly next to me.

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Now I can say with certainty that Hosea was my easiest delivery, even at 9lbs 8oz! This guy was my smallest baby at 8lbs 7oz and...probably the most difficult (I mean, does first baby even count?! of course it's technically the most difficult but with Greta I never pushed...with Joey I DID and THEN I had to have a cesarean!). Too, TT was my most beautifully natural birth, but recovering from a third degree tear is just as bad as recovering from a cesarean. Probably worse, actually.

So this smallest and last of my babies, well he came when his brother wanted him to. He waited till I was done with work. He didn't come late. My body did all the things it was supposed to do. He's just a bit chill and wouldn't fully come down! Probably cause his head was big (37cm circumference when average is 34cm circumference) and he wasn't in the most optimal of positions and well the midwife and nurse should've had me moving around WELL before pushing time if they knew he was up so high...I mean, who knows, it might've still turned out this way, but...this way is fine. He's here. I'm here. We're adjusting. He eats like a champion. No issues there. He's gaining like a champion. He sometimes even sleeps on his own long enough for me to write this whole thing with minimal interruptions! He's adorable! And the softest thing to ever have existed! He looks very much like his dad, and he obligingly also resembles me. He squawks and screams when he needs to. He's wonderful.

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Last complication to mention: they sent me home from the hospital with some really strong painkillers. I'd been taking them off and on for the two days at the hospital, and then they gave me a high dose for our gong show of a taxi ride home (oh Simon was so lovely doing his best with the car seat, trying to install it in the taxi while I reminded him my meds were wearing off! then the older driver, who seemed like a perfectly placed patient as could be ANGEL, said yeah it's fine just hold the baby in your lap we don't need to install the seat! and he drove so carefully but yes over way too many bumps.......I closed my eyes and gripped the seats trying not to jostle my poor abdomen). So we got home, gradually introduced baby to the kids as they excitedly returned from school (what sweet moments those were!!) and Simon ran an errand for other pain meds etc for me. As he did that I started to feel that ominous tongue swelling I've felt before. I tried to push it out of my mind and tell myself it was all in my head. But chewing and swallowing were not quite right. Then I noticed my bottom lip swelling 50%. It wasn't in my head. Turns out I have an allergy to the pain meds after they've been in my system for a bit (hmmm this happens with another drug as well...who knows what else it will happen with!). I didn't mention to anyone about my tongue, cause it scares me too much and I don't want to admit it when it's happening...but I did let my mom and midwife know about my lip. At one point over the next couple of days the midwife thought I'd need to go to the ER! (With my newborn?!!!!! HORRIBLE!) But it ended up all resolving itself with 24 hours of an allergy med, and no more of that pain med. I spend that 24 hours worried I was going to die, worried my throat was going to close up and I'd have to try my epipen or I'd have to try to make it to the ER in a taxi in time and what would I do with the baby or the other kids? What would happen?!!!

Thank goodness for allergy meds. Really. Groggy when you're already exhausted, and in such pain, and nursing a newborn religiously waiting for your full milk to come in as he becomes more and more agitated it hasn't? Worrying the whole time you might not make it the next few hours? Oh, well that was horrible.

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So yeah. I'm very grateful. And I'm never doing this again.

I keep thinking what would've happened if Simon and I stayed broken up over this back in December? Would he have found someone else to have a baby with?!!! What a painful idea! What I would've been giving up, for all of us. I mean, this was a huge thing, but it feels so much different now between us.

He even almost bought me a toy ring at the hospital gift shop, when he went and bought toys for all the kids while I rested. He said, for not the first time, "Maybe we should get married." He was so sweet and sincere, and seemed so beautifully vulnerable--to me--at that time. And I was too emotional to answer.

Haha that'll have to be another chapter, another blog post. For now, married or not, we've got each other, and we've got our Baby Joey. I'm healing up. (I'm not pregnant anymore!!!)

And there's absolutely no other way I'd want things to be.

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PS In case you're wondering, I was put in the covid OR for the cesarean.

PPS Thankfully, and as I knew--I didn't have covid. Ha!