We pride ourselves on having the friendliest
and most welcoming forums for moms and moms to be! Please take a moment
for free so you can be a part of our growing community of mothers.
If you have any problems registering please drop an email to firstname.lastname@example.org.
Our community is moderated by our moderation team so you won't see spam or offensive messages posted on our forums. Each of our message boards is hosted by JustMommies hosts, whose names are listed at the top each board. We hope you find our message boards friendly, helpful, and fun to be on!
Hey everyone! Well, adjusting to motherhood was quite something. I've had my share of breastfeeding challenges which has taken up so much of my time.
Funny how life is. There was a long stretch of time in my life where I thought I didn't want kids and but now that I've planned and am currently living motherhood, I would never trade it in.
Anyway, here is the story.
Hubby's birthday Sep. 9. He is a big Bret Hart fan (wrestler) and Bret is playing in the musical Aladdin coming to town in December. Tickets are not on sale yet but I know I want to give Nick this as a gift. I think it is the ULTIMATE gift to go see his idol. So I make him a card, Bret's body on the cover and Hubby's face on the body. The card tells him that this is going to be his gift as soon as the tickets go on sale. We have a romantic dinner and go to bed around 11pm. Midnight I am up for a pee. Nothing unusual there, when you are 8 months pregnant. All seemed normal. 3:10 am, Sep. 10, I wake up feeling a trickle. Again nothing too unusual, but they wake me up lately since I never know if it's finally going to be THE TRICKLE. Well, sure enough, it's THE TRICKLE, no missing it, it is super obvious.
I poke my hubby who doesn't get up right away. I poke again... poke, poke... more insistently. Finally I just say "Nick, my water broke". And that did it. He jumps out of bed. "Your water broke, ohmigod!" He turns on the lights and puts on his pants and then sleepy-eyed, he looks at me for the next thing to do. I haven't moved from the bed yet as I dare not. I am leaking and leaking and don't want to damage our $12 000 (cdn) hardwood floor. So I stay put. I tell Nick that we should telephone triage at the hospital. He runs downstairs to get the number. Can't find it. Calls telehealth instead (number to call for medical information, advice and direction). I hear him stammering on the telephone as he tells the nurse "my water - uh, my wife's water broke". *teehee* Guess he's been taking this whole "we're pregnant" thing too far, he has us mixed up! The nurse wants to talk to me. I take the bedroom extension. The nurse is a man. Not that this has anything to do with anything but I'm pointing it out because the sociologist in me is glad that the genders are mixing more and more in home and work. The gentleman asks me a few questions and even though I tell him no pain, no anything BUT my water breaking, he still recommends that I make my way to the hospital. He also recommends putting towels down on the car seat. Good advice.
We get in the car and although I probably feel well enough to drive, Nick takes the wheel, just in case. Well, that normally wouldn't be a big deal to anyone reading the story of a wife in labour, but the thing is, Nick doesn't have his license. He's working on it, but with a history of epilepsy, he just never got it. And now he'll be driving his pregnant wife in labour to the hospital. Thankfully it is only 10 minutes away. And thankfully it is now 4am and the streets are empty.
So we get to the hospital, sopping towels and all, and I transfer onto a wheelchair. I wait while Nick goes to park the car. We decide that I am well enough for him to park it a block away from the hospital to save us the parking fee. He comes back. Wheels me to the front desk of the emergency room. I tell them with a smile that my water broke and the gentleman at the counter seems more stressed than me. (Haha, I don't know what's coming yet, this is my first baby) He hops up from his seat and gets the security guard to wheel me to the maternity ward.
There, they are calmer when I tell them my water broke. I wonder why?
They put me under observation and test that the liquid is indeed THE WATER. It is. Duh. They admit me after about an hour. I am now transferred to the birthing room with some mild cramping. Nick calls my friend who is my coach. Haha, she is also 8 months pregnant, I hope we don't get mixed up in our roles.
She arrives and we do funky things like walk up and down the halls (wow, two bellies but only one who is writhing with the cramps). By 10am the nurse tells me that it is not safe for the baby to be dry for so long, so now they will provoke the contractions with medication. I tell her I am really sensitive to medication, particularly to hormones and she tells me that it doesn't act too quickly. She puts the med in my IV and goes on her break. When she comes back I am hanging off my husband's neck crying in pain. Hey, I may never have done this before but I know my body.
Time goes by, the nurse teaches me to relax and breathe. My husband and my friend put the movie "The Wedding Singer" on but it's hard for me to enjoy and laugh. We do other funky things like sit on a birthing ball or perch myself on Nick's neck or between his legs while he's sitting. I tell my husband off to which my friend tells him not to take it personally; then I tell her off too. Then, I take a bath... While in the bath I miss my favourite part of the movie: when Robie sings "Somebody kill me please". His song was about the pain he felt since his fiancé has left him. I'm singing it because I have never experienced so much physical pain in my life.
I tell the nurse that I have the urge to go to the washroom for a number two. She comes with me, just-in-case. No poo. But I put on a nice show of screams, what with the echo in the washroom. I didn't think I had it in me to scream so much, you know? We come back to the bed and she checks me. 4cm dilated, fully effaced and whatever else that says I'm almost there but not quite there yet. So she calls for the epidural. The anestheologist is stuck in an emergency ceasarian. What!?!? You mean the world doesn't revolve around me right now?!?! How could I not be THE EMERGENCY!! So I am now thrashing in pain on the bed and the nurse gets in my face and says "Renee, you lost control in the washroom just now, now you cannot push just yet or else you will swell up and end up in a ceasarian. Now your baby is counting on you, don't push!" Yeah, easy for you to say. But you know, I wasn't pushing, I was holding in at this point.
Finally the anestheologist gets here. A woman. Do I still care about the gender role reversal at this point? She explains the risks of the epidural to me. What a weird time to explain those risks. Does any woman care about the risks at this point? Yes, yes, just give me the ###### thing.
I chose the "self-controlled" epidural. My idea was that if I can control the numbing, then I can decide to keep just enough pain to know when to push and not miss out on the experience, you know? But I'm told that they need to put in the initial dose to make sure it works. So I get it. Oh, it works. Whew, what a relief!
I lie back on the bed and "dose" for a while (I never actually slept, but you know, relaxed despite the shivers). Medication didn't work as well on my right side. Oh, well...
Nurse says she is going on a break and that we will start to push when she gets back. I don't remember if it was before or after she left that we had determined that I was now 10cm dilated. I'm told that because baby is coming early, that a team will be in here to examine him or her, in case there is something wrong. They won't put him or her on me right away, he or she may not cry right away... Funny but I'm not too worried. I agree that this is the best thing for baby's health. An ultrasound is done to confirm the baby's position.
Nurse comes back and we start to push. I ask for a mirror so that I can see. I'm weird like that, I like to see stuff. Little gray head is showing. This motivates me: I push and push. I'm told that baby is a bit stuck, that although I have ripped a bit it would be best to cut. Hey, whatever makes things easier for baby. I'm just glad I can't feel too much. Funny how only that initial dose of the epidural was enough. Finally I hear people exclaim and cheer. It's a boy! My girlfriend tells me she got it on video. I'm very happy about that.
It is 3:51 pm. They examine him and I can tell that things are fine since the members of the team all have a smile on their face. 995 on the APGAR test. 6 lbs. 6 oz. They work on me so long I think I'll never get to hold him. Finally they put a diaper and blanket on him and I get to hold him and nurse him. My friend takes more pictures. What a wonderful birthday present for Nick! Welcome little Logan!