Inquiring minds want to know.

Because some people asked for it, below is a (very) long account of the labour and delivery of my baby Alexandra-Joy.

FOR ALEXANDRA-JOY... your birth story.

August 8^th 2007 –Your due date, but you didn’t arrive. This wasn’t a big surprise to me or your Daddy, because your Gramma gave birth to both myself and your Tia Caz two weeks late. I was bracing myself for two more weeks of difficulty sleeping and anxiousness over meeting you. I didn’t think that after a textbook perfect pregnancy I would hear your doctor say the words “I’m a bit concerned about her size. I think we need to get you an ultrasound a.s.a.p.” My uterine measurement hadn’t changed in three weeks, which wasn’t abnormal, but the doctor wanted to check. Plus it’s pretty much standard procedure to order an ultrasound once a baby is “late”, just to verify that all is ok. Still, I was a bit worried.

August 9^th 2007 – Your Daddy, godmother Danielle and I went to Monfort Hospital in the early afternoon for your bio-physical profile ultrasound which, much to our relief, you passed with flying colors (8/8). I didn’t realize how stressed out I was about the whole process until I woke up from my late afternoon nap that day. I had slept a solid two hours without even moving to turn over once! It was the best sleep I had had in weeks… maybe even months. That should have been my first sign.

The last note I made in my pregnancy journal that day was the following:

“I’m going to the doctor’s tomorrow to schedule my induction… I just hope I deliver naturally before then.” That should have been my second sign.

At 11:45pm, your Daddy took what was to be the last “belly shot” of me before I was no longer pregnant. It seemed incredibly important to me at the time to have this photo taken. That should have been my third sign.

August 10^th 2007 – Even though I had an incredible nap, I was exhausted by midnight. Your Daddy, completely obsessed with Facebook (and its movie trivia and Scrabble games) was lying next to me in bed playing on his laptop until he finally turned off the light at 12:30am. A few seconds later, he was snoring. A few seconds after that, I had my first contraction.

1:30am – I chose not to wake your Daddy right away because a) I wasn’t 100% sure what I was feeling were contractions and b) all the books say that you should try to rest as much as possible in the beginning stages of labour. So, I tried to sleep between contractions (which were about every 15 minutes apart and more uncomfortable than painful). Since sleep was impossible, I woke your Daddy at 1:30am by gently touching him and saying “Stewart, I’m having contractions.” Contrary to all the sitcoms and stereotypical daddies-to-be, your father simply turned over to face me and said “Ok, I’ll hold your hand”… which he did and promptly fell back asleep. This, much to my surprise, was to be a trend for the rest of the labour.

2:07am – I started timing my contractions by using the battery operated Sudoku machine – it had a timer on the screen and playing it allowed me to be distracted between contractions. The Sudoku machine was eventually replaced by your Daddy’s watch, or the Weather Channel’s clock on channel 21. For the next hour, my contractions were every 8-10 minutes apart and lasted around 45 seconds to a minute.

3:20am – Almost three hours had flown by already and I decided that it was time to call your Gramma and Grandpapa. I figured they would want some advance notice and not have to rush to meet us at the hospital. Your Gramma was surprised at how calm I sounded. Immediately after I made the call, your Daddy ran me a bath. While I soaked in the tub (which was a huge pain reliever, by the way), your Daddy tried to nap on the bathroom floor. That’s when he realised why only drunk or sick people sleep in bathrooms… it’s not very comfortable. So he returned to his computer games and continued to time contractions for me.

4:33am – My contractions were now between 4 and 6 minutes apart, lasting around 1 minute, and had been this way since shortly after making the call to your grandparents. By this point, I could feel a definite wave of pain with a strong peak in the middle. My acting and vocal classes came in handy. I never yelled. I never lost control. I was able to stay focused on managing the pain, relaxing my face and jaw, and breathing through a low moan. “They” (meaning “the books”, “the internet”, “the know-it-alls”, etc.) say that visualization is an excellent tool…That if you visualize your baby moving down with every contraction it makes the work more manageable because you remind yourself of its purpose. Well, I tried that, and all it did was make me feel nauseous at the thought of your melon-sized head fitting through such a tiny space. Needless to say I didn’t try that tactic more than once.

5am(ish) – Gramma and Grandpapa arrived at the house. I was now sitting on the toilet facing the tank which (thanks to advice from mommies Robin Guy, Dalelle Mensour and Jennifer Demers) was an amazingly comfortable position to labour in. I think it’s due mostly to the built-in shelf you can sleep/rest on between waves of nastiness. But my new position of relief was not to last. Your Gramma got what we could only describe as “sympathy pains” and needed to use the toilet to get relief herself. We laughingly exchanged positions off and on for quite a while. During this time, your Grandpapa took a snooze on the couch and your Daddy made himself a full breakfast (which I was very jealous of since all I’d had to eat since the night before was a berry Popsicle that your Daddy brought me while I was in the tub!)

6:08am – In true Natalie fashion, I started weighing the pros and cons of continuing to labour at home versus going to the hospital. I had been in labour for 5 and a half hours by this point and my contractions had been 4-6 minutes apart (lasting a minute) for 2 and a half hours now. The hospital and all the books say that you should leave when your contractions are 5 minutes apart, lasting a minute and have been doing so for an hour. I had been in that state for twice that amount of time. So I stopped debating with myself and got ready to go to the hospital.

6:30am – We arrive at Monfort Hospital. I calmly walked up to the “Labour and Delivery” counter on the second floor and said to the nurse “J’aimerais accoucher s’il vous plait” (which translates to “I’d like to deliver my baby now please.” I think the staff is used to first time moms coming into the hospital too early because the nurse didn’t want to transfer me to a birthing room right away and instead chose to send me to an examination room first. I was slightly insulted. I knew I was in full labour. When she examined me I was 3cm dilated and 75% effaced. This was quite disappointing considering I was 2cm dilated and 50% effaced two days earlier… not exactly much progress. However, the nurse said that your head was really low and that I would probably progress quickly. I was transferred to a birthing room right away.

6:30am to 9:29am – This chunk of time is a bit of a blur because I was so focused on managing the pain (and accompanying nausea). We met our nurse, Kathleen, an incredibly calm and sweet woman with 20 years of experience. She read my birthing plan (which Gramma gave to the nurses, attached to a huge bar of chocolate for good measure) and started the Jacuzzi tub straight away. I had to remind your Daddy to come sit by me. I think he was so tired he just assumed that I would want to lounge in the tub and relax by myself. Not the case… I needed the support. While I was in the tub, your Daddy read a quiz to me from a Cosmo magazine I had brought, but I could barely focus on what he was saying. I eventually got out of the tub and Kathleen asked if I wanted some pain medication. She gave me a shot of Nubain, a narcotic that I would happily recommend to any labouring woman. It didn’t take away the pain completely, but it definitely took the edge off and allowed me to doze between contractions. Kathleen, being the intuitive nurse she was, converted the lounge chair into a bed for Stewart and your Daddy slept soundly while I was in my narcotic induced haze. You Gramma never let her eyes leave me the entire time. Whether I needed a sip of water or a hand to hold, she was there. Your Grandpapa was almost always in the room with us too, quietly sitting in a corner reading a newspaper or running back to the house to grab my pillow or going to the Tim Hortons (again, I was jealous I couldn’t have a double-double myself!)

9:30am – I was surprised and relieved to see Doctor Luc Clément come through the door to examine me. It’s not uncommon for women to have an unexpected doctor deliver their baby, especially since Dr. Clément had to drive from St.Isidore to see me or could have been on call elsewhere. It was especially relieving since he had just returned from his holidays two days previous. He checked me and found out that I was 4cm dilated and 100% effaced. He broke my water and told me he’d return later on in the day to check up on me. Little did I know that he told Gramma and Grandpapa in the hallway that he didn’t expect me to deliver until much later on in the evening, maybe even overnight.

10:05am – I was given an I.V. in preparation for the epidural.

10:30am – Your Daddy held on to me as the very nice (and handsome) anesthesiologist gave me the epidural. It only hurt for a few seconds when he froze my back. However, I wasn’t immediately comfortable because the epidural didn’t take (as it probably hit a vein) and only froze the left size of my body. The right side was still experiencing full-on contractions… a very odd and off-balancing feeling.

11:30am – The anesthesiologist returned again, removed the epidural and inserted another one. Even though my right side was finally numb (and much more numb than my left side now) I was relieved that I could still move my legs and feet. Some women are completely immobilised almost from the chest down, but I didn’t feel that way. It was just right enough for me to be able to sleep for a while.

11:40am – Kathleen checked me and discovered that I was already at 7cm. I think that’s when she called our doctor to let him know that it wouldn’t be too long before I was fully dilated.

11:55am – I was given Oxytocin, a hormone that helps labour to progress. This is pretty much standard procedure for women who get the epidural. For some women, an epidural stalls their labour. We were to find out soon that this was not the case for me.

12:50pm – Kathleen checked me and found out that I was fully dilated. Luckily, I had the epidural so I wasn’t in a ton of pain waiting for my doctor to make the 45 minute drive from St.Isidore. It was still quite odd to feel like I had a five pin bowling ball ready to push out of my backside though.

1:30pm – Our doctor returned, checked me briefly and left to get changed out of his street clothes and into scrubs.

1:45pm – While the doctor was out of the room, Kathleen asked me to start pushing. Even though I wasn’t totally numb from the epidural I still couldn’t feel any contractions, much less how well (or where!) I was pushing. Dr. Clément returned to the room, took one look down below and said “whoa” and, all of a sudden, started moving a lot less casually. I’m told your head was already crowning. Kathleen held my left leg. Your Daddy held my right. Grandpapa was near the head of the bed and Gramma sat on a chair at the foot so she could have a clear view of the action. I kept being assured that I was pushing correctly, but I could barely feel a thing except like my head was going to explode from holding my breath and forcing so much. Once I had started pushing Kathleen took the epidural off which gave me a weird pins and needles feeling in my legs. Your Daddy at one point was rubbing my leg between contractions, telling me how well I was doing and how proud he was of me. I asked him nicely to stop doing that because of how odd it felt with the pins and needles. Sure enough, your Daddy’s short attention span took over and he rubbed my leg again after the next contraction. True to form, I punched him (lovingly, but hard) in the stomach. Everyone laughed and he didn’t rub my leg again after that. A few minutes later I realised that I nearing the end and I couldn’t believe how calm I had been the entire time. A woman across the hall who was labouring naturally had yelled constantly and I was proud of myself for not losing total control (though I don’t fault her at all for going the natural route). Before one of the last pushes, I still had my wits about me, and said “I haven’t had the chance to say this yet, so I’d better get it in while I still can.” I looked at your Daddy and yelled “YOU DID THIS TO ME!!!” We all had a good laugh.

2:02pm – You were born and immediately put onto my chest. I looked at you with confusion and elation… and I finally cried. I can’t say that it was love at first sight (you were all gooey after all!) Your Daddy couldn’t stop staring at you. Your Gramma was in tears and hugged the nurse at the first chance she got. Grandpapa just simply seemed amazed. We weren’t sure originally if he was going to be in the room with us, but I think both he and I were glad he was there to watch you come into this world. When the doctor gave you a thorough check-up, he held you up and guessed that you weighed 7lbs. Sure enough, you came in at 7lbs 0.6oz. This was only 4 oz. larger than the estimate we got from the ultrasound the day before… not exactly a tiny baby! Before Dr. Clément left, I jokingly apologised to him for missing my 10am appointment that morning. He smiled and said I’d be charged for it and would be getting the cancellation invoice in the mail.

After 2:02pm – Everything was a blur again. I fed you for the first time, which didn’t go as smoothly as I had hoped but at least you got some nourishment. I filled out some forms. Dalelle and Pier came to visit you in the delivery room. I was moved to a post-partum room. Your godparents Danielle and Craig came to meet you. I fed you some more. I slept. I ate. Your Daddy changed your all diapers.

At 8:15pm I tried to feed you, but you wouldn’t latch on. The nurse expressed some of my milk and fed it to you via medical syringe only to find that your stomach was full of mucus (which is quite common for newborns) and you spat everything up. In the middle of the night, you were wheezing and crying. Your Daddy slept so soundly he didn’t hear you. A nurse came in before I could get out of bed. When I told her you were full of mucus earlier, she took you away for a check-up before I could even wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I panicked. I had never seen this nurse before. I didn’t see if she had an I.D. badge. And the way she spoke to me before taking you away made me feel like she was chastising me for not taking good enough care of you. I quickly woke up your Daddy who, the minute he saw you were gone, left to find out where you were. Sure enough, you were in the nursery, completely safe in the arms of a nurse giving you saline solution to loosen up the mucus in your sinuses. She brought you back within 10 minutes and reminded me to cuddle with you as often as I (or you!) wanted because skin-to-skin contact is good for your development. It turned out she was a very kind nurse, but my doziness in the middle of the night clouded my perception. Once she left and you were quiet in your bassinet, your Daddy and I cuddled on the couch in our room and I cried like I had never cried before. I cried because I was worried about you. I cried because I was scared about the future. But most of all, I cried because I knew I had fallen in love with you.