Sunday, May 19, 2013

Molly's birth story...

After 6 false labour alarms (thankfully she's my third baby so I didn't go rushing to the Hospital with any of them) I started to second guess myself if when the time came, would I really know I was in labour? I guess I just expected it to be like Charlie's. Start out with contractions 20 minutes apart, start timing them and they slowly creep closer together. Wake up my husband and 'lovingly' say "it's time to go" and off we would go to meet our daughter.

Molly was a little different.

The roads prior to Molly's arrival were nothing short of horrendous. I mean, we would look at the road condition report and some nights all highways to the Hospital were closed. The news would say the road conditions were "deadly". Lovely. So imagine 6 false labours in the midst of these storms. Nothing short of stressful.

Except for the day Molly was born.

I had false labour that night until about 3 am. I was uncomfortable, back was aching, contractions that were sporadic and to be quite frank- I was miserable. My dear husband was able to sleep through all of this since I didn't see the point of us both being up. He had joked to me MANY times that 6 am is when contractions should start so we could get a full night's sleep.

Bring us to 6 am. I hear Jack crying from his room, so I jolt out of bed to see what's the matter. He peed the bed. Did I mention that I was still uncomfortable but something felt different this time. So here I was, fighting contractions and fighting a 3 1/2 year old who NEEDS to wear a shirt with a "red button" so he can still be Buzz Lightyear. I was fed up. Kelly enters. I say "deal with this child" still not fully
aware of maybe why I was so crusty (because I was in labour).

I start figuring out this this hurts. I mean really hurts. So I start to time and within 1/2 hour I realize, ok, this is different and text my friend to see if she can come over and look after the boys while we just check in at the local Hospital to see what the heck was going on. I was getting jabbing chest pains with every contraction and was having a hard time breathing because of it.

We get to the local Hospital and all the nurses are more than ecstatic to see a pregnant woman in labour. Apparently, there are not too many births at the Hospital so there is always a buzz when one enters. I had a hard time breaking it to them that this was just the pit stop to RUH. After a couple hours of monitoring, visiting my doctor (who just happened to be at the Hospital making rounds), we concluded that this defiantly was the real thing and to start heading in. My chest pains disappeared and we chalked it up to anxiety. I really wanted to go home and have a shower first but they advised since this was my 3rd, to just get motoring. I was only 3 cm but my contractions were 3-4 minutes apart.

We got to RUH with some speeding in record time. We started out at about 110 km/hour, picking up speed as the contractions picked up speed.

Once we got to the Hospital, they assessed me which took a couple hours it seemed. Try asked if I needed an epideral and at the beginning I said "no, not now". Not 1/2 hour later, the same nurse came in and could see the pain on my face and asked again, to which I greatly said "YES!".

And then we were off to the birthing room! It was about 9am, 3 hours in and I was already 4 cm- able to get epideral and out of assessment. To get to this point with the boys it took at least 7-8 hours so I was way ahead of the game! Mom, dad and Kim visited. I talked to friends through Facebook. This birthing stuff was easy..... So far.

I predict that if they would have broken my water sooner, Molly would have been born way sooner. But since I was comfortable, it took hours for a resident to check me. They finally broke my water, saw that there was meconium in the fluid (to which Kelly and I panicked as we have never dealt with that
before). I went for 6 cm to 10 in an hour.

Now, the hard part. You see my fear was that they wouldn't be able to top me off before I got to the pushing stage, as there wouldn't be enough time. Well, my fear was a reality. The hardest part for me is always 10 cm and the "pressure" they talk about. Pressure my a$*. A little discomfort? HA. After a little bit of screaming (okay a lot of screaming), begging for them to just cut me open (yes, this happened and I believe I saw Kelly smirking at the nurses), and a few "I CAN'T DO THIS!", I came to the realization the only way it's going to stop is to push with all my might and get her out. Which I did. And so did she.

Love at first sight. She was beyond perfect.

The NICU team were there to check her over because of the meconium but said she looked great, got an Apgar score of 9, wrapped up our 7 lb, 6 oz bundle and placed in my loving arms.

My girl.

They needed to check her once again after 15 minutes but when they came in and saw her nursing like a natural, they said that was all the reassurance they needed. She really WAS perfect.

So there it is. Fairly uneventful. No fainting, no blood pressure drops, no heart rate drops, no real haemorrhaging, no blood transfusions, no bones breaking all like my previous labours.

Just 10 hours and a baby in the end....


Moments to remember

There was a picture circulating Facebook a few weeks back that made me tear up a bit. It was a Mom holding her twin babies in bed and to the side of the picture was a scrapbook of memories that she wanted to remember. Boy, do I know how she feels. With every one of my sweet babies, I cannot even begin to tell to you how many times I have stopped and thought- I need to remember this. I need to remember this smell, this feeling, that touch. There is nothing more fulfilling and nothing that fills your heart with more joy; than how your baby makes you feel. It is the closest thing to heaven we have here on earth.

Here is the picture.



The memories she wanted to remember were:


  • How do you capture the tiny, delicate sound of their sleep breathing?
  • The way they pat your arm, only half conscious, to make sure you're still there?
  • The way their little hands are the warmest, softest, gentlest things you've ever felt?
  • The way their warm little bodies are at once the snuggliest and the heaviest objects on earth?
  • The way the tops of their heads smell so sweet?
  • The way they laugh like Christmas morning about 2 minutes after falling asleep?
  • The way they melt into your embrace like they've always been there?
  • The way you close your eyes, and pray to remember every single detail?



YES, to all of these. But I have some more in their first few months of life .....


  • The smell of their milk breath. Only a mother could truly appreciate that soft sweet smell.
  • Their warm neck. Just try not to kiss it.
  • The 'sucking sigh'. After every suckle, there is a satisfying sigh. That sound makes me melt. Makes me proud. Makes me feel like everything is right in mine and their world.
  • The way their head fits in the nook of your neck.
  • The way they sink into your hands after a burb.
  • Their sharp little nails, scratching your chest, and small little hands cradling your finger.
  • When you kiss their cheek, how they move their lips to yours.
  • Their panic whimpers to pick them up and how they sigh once you do.
  • Their huge stretches, every limb extended.
  • Their smell. If only you could bottle that smell.
  • The way their mouth makes an '0' shape when you are talking to them.
  • Their first smile. A picture doesn't do it justice. That picture doesnt show how you feel knowing that your baby knows you.

How could I ever live without a baby in my life? What am I going to do if Molly is my last and all these precious moments are the last time I'll experience them? How do you remember all these? 

You write them down. You live in the moment. Experience it. Notice it. Embrace it. And vow to never forget.