Monday, January 9, 2012

Let's Try This Again

Ok, I'll admit it...when I sat down to write my last blog entry, I fell asleep.  Hence the short post with a somewhat abrupt ending.  I could have gone back to it once I woke from my restless slumber on the now 8 year old Ikea couch, but I decided that I should try to sneak upstairs, get in my flannels and try to get some real sleep (you know, all 23 minutes of it) before our newest addition decided he needed me....NOW MOTHER!

So let's try this again.  The last weeks of my pregnancy went quickly and fairly smoothly.  I finished work a few days before Madison's 5th birthday (which was celebrated with her, surrounded by a gaggle of girls and a couple of boys from school, doing gymnastics to their little hearts' content).  I was SUPPOSED to have 2 weeks at home with my kids to enjoy some time with them before Wayne made his debut.   True to family offspring fashion, little Wayne decided he needed to one up his sister and brother and make an early appearance.

My wish was that I made it past Madison's birthday so that she could have her birthday all to herself.  Granted.  Just barely.  Baby brother (aka Ewan) was born in the wee hours of October 29th.  Here's his story...

Thursday I had yet another check up with the doctor, who promptly informed me that he could have sworn I would have been at the hospital and home with my boy days earlier...wrong!  That was at 38 weeks.  He had informed me early in the pregnancy that I was not going to be "allowed" to get to 40 weeks due to my history of rapid fire deliveries.  So, in order to avoid a repeat performance of my husband having to deliver my son and save us the expense of a new mattress (again), Dr. H. told me to head to the L&D ward on Saturday morning.  He wasn't going to book me for an induction as there was a good chance I would get bumped down the list as I AM a machine after all.  Basically, he told me to just head in there and tell them I was having contractions, tell them my previous delivery story and there was no chance they would let me go home after that.  Sneaky, but truthful.

In the end, all of that was irrelevant as I had my 1st contraction just after 11pm Friday night.  I sort of ignored it, but kept it in mind as I went up to take a nice long bath before heading to bed...except I never got there.  At 1am I woke Andrew up and told him to call his parents.  We needed to head to the hospital.  "WHA?? Are you serious?".  I can understand his confusion as he'd only just gone to bed about an hour earlier thinking everything was fine and we'd head to the hospital at our leisure in the morning.  Kids always have a way of messing with your well laid plans.

So, we called his folks who live 25 minutes away at about 1:20.  Our neighbour had said they would brave the long walk across the lawn if we needed anyone to get to the house immediately to stay with the kids until the grandparents arrived...yeah...except it was Hallowe'en weekend and they were out at at party.  Awesome.  If they weren't such amazing people and wonderful neighbours, I might try to keep the guilt going on that one. ;)  

We also could have called our dear friend and former cruise ship singing roomie Andrea, but by the time she would have arrived the in-laws would likely have been there anyway.  So, we waited it out...and out...and...well, in their defense, they thought someone was going to be at the house for the kids while we left for the hospital should we have a middle of the night thing happen.   I think Andrew was more worried than I was.  Oddly, I was fine...in full on labour, but somehow totally fine.  Talking through contractions (even though I fully remember that the stage I was at meant imminent delivery).  

We broke all land speed records...of course should Andrew's employers be reading this or any local police...followed all posted limits to the tee and not going through a single red light (in truth, the only one we really hit was the ONLY light we have in our town...and of course it had to be red)...and got to the hospital in an amazing 20 minutes.

Moving on...we arrive at the hospital at 2:20am, get through the door we were told was going to be locked and begin to make our way through the lobby (I'm sure there is a fancier name for it that the hospital uses like atrium), when we are stopped by what I can only assume is a security guard.

"Hi folks.  You going to work?".  Yes Captain Obvious, my husband, our ridiculously oversized traveler's backpack, my enormous belleh and I are heading up to work...in the WOMEN'S HEALTH building, which is basically only used for LABOUR AND DELIVERY.  My shift starts at 3a.m.

After very nicely stating (while still in full stride) we were heading up to L&D, he yells at us saying "Hey, get back here...you're not in labour!!".  I'm sorry WHAT???  Did you seriously just tell me that I'm not in labour?  I'm sorry to tell you Honey, but Hollywood has played up the whole woman crawling on floor clutching belly while performing primal scream therapy routine a little too much.  Because I was walking upright and smiled, apparently my son WASN'T trying to rip his way out of my lady parts.  Sorry, my mistake.  Thank you so much for clearing that up for me.

In my usual full of class fashion that makes my Momma so very proud, I offered a "Screw You" and kept on walking...upright and smiling.  We were followed up to L&D by some woman in another elevator, were checked in and had a triage room in a matter of seconds.  At that point I believe I was at 4 or 5 cm.  After a short stay there, we were given a delivery room (quite nice actually...huge, with a couch for Andrew to crash on and a view of the city).  Doctor arrives on his bicycle shortly after, letting us know that for any other patient he would have told the nurses to just keep calling him with updates, but I'm special.  Oh, I should also mention here that moments before he entered our room we heard another woman performing that primal scream ritual I just mentioned with a gusto.  Man, somebody get that woman some drugs!  Our nurse tried to ignore it, I laughed and the doc came in smiling saying that he was glad that wasn't me.


My water was broken and with a whoosh and a "whoa, can we get some more towels over here...man, that was a lot of water" from the doctor, all dignity was gone.  He waited around a bit, I wasn't able to talk through contractions anymore at that point.  Andrew asked if I wanted an epidural or a piece of wood to bite down on as I was close to shattering my left hand with my right with each uteral surge, I said not yet.  

To cut this insanely long post short, I asked to be checked a short while later, the doc came back in the room, slapped on a glove, took a quick peek and said "GET ME ANOTHER GLOVE!!!".  In 2 or so pushes, Ewan was born at 4:22a.m. weighing in at a miniscule 6lbs 11oz (almost 2 full pounds smaller than his brother and sister).



Everyone was happy and healthy and Mommy was pleasantly surprised that she A) didn't need a single stitch and B) the gluten free hospital food wasn't shyte like I thought it would be.

I'll save all of my other anecdotes for future posts, mostly because the kid has been wedged into his swing for 3 hours now and my left hand is cramping from holding in the decrepit power cord to my laptop.  

Good night, fair readers, until we meet again.  Hopefully not in a short few hours. 

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