She's been obsessed with her little tongue for a few months and it was in fine form during the photos. There are few shots without her tongue sticking out or her fingers stuck in, which is perfect because that is just her. 
Showing posts with label Lizzy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lizzy. Show all posts
Monday, January 18, 2016
Family Photos.
We had family photos done a few days before Christmas. We had the same photographer who took our wedding photos come to Erik's parent's house and take them for us. It turns out she lives only a few minutes away from them.
We just did a mini-session and we'd woken Eliza from her nap when the photographer arrived so the poor girl didn't have much time to warm up to the idea. She perked up fairly quickly and, aside from wanting nothing to do with her mother, she was soon up to her usual antics.
She's been obsessed with her little tongue for a few months and it was in fine form during the photos. There are few shots without her tongue sticking out or her fingers stuck in, which is perfect because that is just her.
I can't be the only one who gets stressed when thinking about what to wear for photos! I decided that I wanted our photos to be normal -- I just wanted to look like us. I still went shopping on more than one occasion, but walked around bewildered and returned home with nothing each time. I decided to go with comfort. I hate having photos done and figured I would look most relaxed if I felt comfortable in what I was wearing. The shirt I wore is one I'm particularly fond of wearing on night shift at the hospital. And I didn't wear any makeup because I never wear makeup. As far as matching goes... I just tried to not makes us clash too horribly.
It was great having the photos done at my in-laws. It's a beautiful location that is very special to us and it's home.
I'm so glad we got photos done. I kept putting it off thinking I could do them myself, but I finally admitted that would never happen so I bit the bullet and got in contact with Kelly. These are only a few of the photos she took -- I have many more favourites!
She's been obsessed with her little tongue for a few months and it was in fine form during the photos. There are few shots without her tongue sticking out or her fingers stuck in, which is perfect because that is just her. 
Sunday, January 17, 2016
2015 :: Year in Review :: September to December
September
In September we decided to start the process of purchasing a foreclosed half-duplex. We began by negotiating an initial bid with the bank. The process of buying a foreclosure was... a lot more difficult than I anticipated and this was partly due to our less-than-impressive real estate agent. I won't go into all the details about how she dropped the ball, but suffice to say I wasn't fond of her. The bank accepted our offer and a court date was set for the end of October.
We also made another trip the coast in September for a youth conference that we volunteered at. We had friends visit from up north and we enjoyed Erik's brief break from school. And I slowly packed up our house. Slowly.
We spent an extended weekend in Manning Park with Erik's brother and sister-in-law. We went on a couple hikes (one that nearly killed me), ate copious amounts of food, played countless games of Dominion, and laughed at Eliza.
October
Maelle and Elinor stayed over the first weekend in October and Eliza loved having older kids around -- she watched them play, followed them, and laughed at them. They kept her entertained the whole weekend.
My niece got married over Thanksgiving weekend so the whole family was in town again. She was married on the Friday, which was nice because we had the rest of the weekend to spend time together. I can't imagine how busy holidays will be in years to come when all the little ones have grown. I am thankful that Eliza has so many cousins near her age.
Our court date was October 29 and thankfully nobody else showed up so we got the half-duplex at our original bid! It was stressful having to have a second bid ready as we had to go in blind -- they don't tell you what other people put in as a bid so you just throw an offer in and hope that you aren't outbid and that you don't outbid someone else by something ridiculous like $15,000. We had a couple days to close and then we had possession and renovations to look forward to.
I was going to skip Halloween, but a friend invited us over so I ran out and got Eliza a costume and she was an adorable little ladybug. If you aren't picky about your kids costume (and don't mind squeezing them into something a little bit too small) Costco has them on sale for $5.00 the day of.
November
We moved in with my parents for November. We'd made the decision to do so before our court date because we had to be out of our place on October 31 and our court date was on the 29th. If we didn't get the duplex we were going to look for somewhere else to rent for December 1 and were going to stay with my parents anyway. If we got the house then we would live with them while we started renovating (floors, paint, furnace, windows).
I spent hours and hours painting the entire house. It was nice to be with my parents because they let me borrow their vehicle when Erik was at work so I could go to the house and because they would were home when Eliza went to bed at night so I could paint from 7pm-1am. My mom also helped me when she could which was much appreciated. Erik was busy working and finishing his quarter at school so he was a busy boy.
We made another trip to the coast for school at the beginning of the month. It was the last time I get to go with Erik as I will be working for the remainder of his academic career.
December
I continued painting our house in the beginning of December and we moved in on the tenth. Unpacking with an 11-month-old is not an easy task. It is especially difficult when your cupboard doors aren't on yet because you're painting them. Erik worked his last shift at his job on the eighteenth as he is going to be writing his thesis, doing his practicums, and taking care of Eliza while I'm at work in the new year.
We spent Christmas in Washington this year with Erik's family. We were able to stay for ten days because Erik had just quit his job and I wasn't back at work yet. It was fun to see Eliza interacting with that side of the family. She was a great age for such a gathering and she doesn't get stranger-danger or separation-anxiety so she was happy to be with whoever wanted to be with her. She was particularly fond of her grandma, which made me smile. It is fun having a baby who happily goes to others and I'm sure the "others" appreciate it too.
Eliza turned one! I know most parent says it, but woah, that year passed far too quickly. Eliza is such an easy going girl -- she makes being a mama easy. I know I am biased, but she really is the sweetest thing. We didn't have a party for her (I've always thought first birthday parties are a little silly) but she was surrounded by people who love her, as she will be every year on her birthday (a benefit of being born on Christmas Day).
We had a mini Christmas celebration with the Kelowna Jansens when we returned from Washington. We just had dinner and gave a few gifts to the kiddies. It was nice.
And that was a brief recap of 2015. I'm curious to see what 2016 brings...
In September we decided to start the process of purchasing a foreclosed half-duplex. We began by negotiating an initial bid with the bank. The process of buying a foreclosure was... a lot more difficult than I anticipated and this was partly due to our less-than-impressive real estate agent. I won't go into all the details about how she dropped the ball, but suffice to say I wasn't fond of her. The bank accepted our offer and a court date was set for the end of October.
October
Maelle and Elinor stayed over the first weekend in October and Eliza loved having older kids around -- she watched them play, followed them, and laughed at them. They kept her entertained the whole weekend.
November
We moved in with my parents for November. We'd made the decision to do so before our court date because we had to be out of our place on October 31 and our court date was on the 29th. If we didn't get the duplex we were going to look for somewhere else to rent for December 1 and were going to stay with my parents anyway. If we got the house then we would live with them while we started renovating (floors, paint, furnace, windows).
December
I continued painting our house in the beginning of December and we moved in on the tenth. Unpacking with an 11-month-old is not an easy task. It is especially difficult when your cupboard doors aren't on yet because you're painting them. Erik worked his last shift at his job on the eighteenth as he is going to be writing his thesis, doing his practicums, and taking care of Eliza while I'm at work in the new year.
We spent Christmas in Washington this year with Erik's family. We were able to stay for ten days because Erik had just quit his job and I wasn't back at work yet. It was fun to see Eliza interacting with that side of the family. She was a great age for such a gathering and she doesn't get stranger-danger or separation-anxiety so she was happy to be with whoever wanted to be with her. She was particularly fond of her grandma, which made me smile. It is fun having a baby who happily goes to others and I'm sure the "others" appreciate it too.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
2015 :: Year in Review :: May to August
May
For some reason May is often a month that I forget to document. It is one of my favourite months, despite this, and I imagine I enjoyed it as much as any other month. In May we headed to Vancouver again for Erik's schooling again. I loved that I was able to go with him all year as we got to visit with family and friends.
Eliza's love affair with spatulas and wooden spoons began in May and we were able to visit with family from Northern BC while they were in Kamloops for a soccer tournament.
June
We tried to make a point of going on some family hikes in June as the weather was nice and our babe was portable.
Erik went to Alaska for his fifteenth season of commercial fishing in the middle of June. Eliza and I packed ourselves up and spent a month on the coast bouncing between family and friends.
Eliza learned to sit the day Erik left (I finally sat her up and she didn't fall over. Ever.). We visited my in-laws for about a week and then made our way north to the Lower Mainland to visit with my siblings.
July
We spent the beginning of July "camping" with my sister and her family in Monroe, WA. On the fourth of July my brother called to inform us that he had a son! Anthony Carter Keith arrive three weeks ahead of schedule and healthy as can be.
I spent some time visiting with some aunties and cousins before Erik came home too. It was so nice to spend considerable amount of time with everyone as we usually feel rushed while we are in town. I felt as though I was able to invest in the people around me and have them get to know Eliza instead of us frantically trying to squeeze a few visits in.
While Erik was in Alaska our landlords informed us that they were unexpectedly moving back to Kelowna years earlier than anticipated and we needed to move in few months. I was so sad about this as I loved our home and had been looking forward to living there for at least a few more years. We started the discussion of whether to continue renting or if we should look into purchasing a home of our own.
August
My mom's side of the family has Family Camp every August and we make it a priority to attend as it is always a good time. We meet at Timothy Lake near 100 Mile House and spend an extended weekend eating, playing games, reading, swimming, and talking. We were fortunate to stay in a cabin that we shared with my sister-in-law and nephew.
We started looking at houses a little more seriously in August -- Erik was trying to convince me that buying one was a good idea, but I still wasn't so sure.
We had plenty of dinners and games nights with friends as well, which isn't abnormal for us, but I was really sad about leaving our house so we did it more often than we usually do. I was trying to squeeze every ounce of enjoyment out of the space we had.
My cousin got married in Kelowna at the end of the month. His wedding was so much fun and many of my extended family was able to make it so I was able to see people I haven't seen in a while. It was nice to attend a family wedding that didn't involve an immediate family member as no one was pre-occupied with wedding responsibilities and we just got to enjoy ourselves.
I start work this Thursday so I hope to finish off the Year in Review as soon as possible! I'm feeling panicked to tie up loose ends before heading back to the hospital.
For some reason May is often a month that I forget to document. It is one of my favourite months, despite this, and I imagine I enjoyed it as much as any other month. In May we headed to Vancouver again for Erik's schooling again. I loved that I was able to go with him all year as we got to visit with family and friends.
June
We tried to make a point of going on some family hikes in June as the weather was nice and our babe was portable.
July
We spent the beginning of July "camping" with my sister and her family in Monroe, WA. On the fourth of July my brother called to inform us that he had a son! Anthony Carter Keith arrive three weeks ahead of schedule and healthy as can be.
August
My mom's side of the family has Family Camp every August and we make it a priority to attend as it is always a good time. We meet at Timothy Lake near 100 Mile House and spend an extended weekend eating, playing games, reading, swimming, and talking. We were fortunate to stay in a cabin that we shared with my sister-in-law and nephew.
I start work this Thursday so I hope to finish off the Year in Review as soon as possible! I'm feeling panicked to tie up loose ends before heading back to the hospital.
Tuesday, January 05, 2016
2015 :: Year in Review :: January to April
January
I spent most of January nursing and getting to know Eliza Jane. She got a bad cold when she was only a few days old and we spent much of the month steaming, suctioning, and making sure she could breathe.
The transition to parenthood was easier than we anticipated. Being parents and having a dependent human being felt normal and wonderful. Eliza was an easy going newborn who only fussed when she needed to sleep or when she wanted to be put down. I learned early on that she wasn't particularly fond of being held, which would have been even more mind-boggling if I didn't have a niece who was the same.
February
We took our first trip to the coast in February and we were able to introduce Eliza to some of our extended families. Erik had a week-long residency in Vancouver for his Master's program so Eliza and I tagged along and stayed with various family members for the week. It was lovely to actually have time to visit with people as we are usually only down for a weekend and have way too much to cram into that time.
My friend, Heidi, came to visit from Manitoba. It may sound awful, but my favourite thing about her visit (aside from the yummy cupcakes she made) was that Heidi would rock Eliza to sleep in the evening when she was fussy and Erik and I would go to bed. Then she would sneak into our room and put Eliza to bed while we slept. It was wonderful to go to sleep without having to think about the baby waking up or not settling. And it was great to see Heidi.
Eliza was also baptized in February. My mom made her baptism gown and my brother did the baptism, which made the day even more special. Eliza was in fine form and screamed the entire service.
March
I don't recall much of March. Erik was busy with work and school and I enjoyed staying home with the babe. I do remember spending plenty of time rocking Eliza to sleep. She hated going to sleep and would put up a mighty fight. I was thankful she fell asleep easy at night because she would struggle with it during the day.
We made another trip to the coast to visit Erik's family in Washington as Erik's sister was visiting from Minnesota. A nasty bug was unfortunately being passed around when we arrived so the visit wasn't what we were expecting and we had to quarantine Eliza so she wouldn't catch the virus.
We had thankfully planned to sleep in a tent, but poor Eliza was forced to nap out on the deck sheltered from the elements by jackets, bags, and umbrellas depending on the weather.
I don't know what I was expecting, but it felt different sharing Eliza with Erik's family. It seems ridiculous but I felt almost surprised that they loved her as my family does. Of course they did! Why wouldn't they? Eliza's cousins were finally healthy enough to play with her the day before we left. We were down for a week and only got to spend one day snuggled up together! Ugh!
April
After our time in Stanwood we headed north to the Lower Mainland to spend Easter with my family. We also celebrated Erik and my brother Jonathan's 30th birthdays with a hockey party and lunch with our extended family. We rented what I believe was a practice rink and my siblings, cousins, and an aunt, and my uncles played 3-on-3 hockey.
Our family also welcomed a new nephew in April! Cruz Kingston Black was born on April 28 to my brother, Joel, and his wife.
And our friends from Fort St. John came down for a visit to the coast. It was fun to finally have a baby of my own to add to the mess of children playing in the backyard and it was great to spend time together. I was there when all the wee ones in the photo below were born.
Next installment (hopefully) coming shortly.
I spent most of January nursing and getting to know Eliza Jane. She got a bad cold when she was only a few days old and we spent much of the month steaming, suctioning, and making sure she could breathe.
We took our first trip to the coast in February and we were able to introduce Eliza to some of our extended families. Erik had a week-long residency in Vancouver for his Master's program so Eliza and I tagged along and stayed with various family members for the week. It was lovely to actually have time to visit with people as we are usually only down for a weekend and have way too much to cram into that time.
I don't recall much of March. Erik was busy with work and school and I enjoyed staying home with the babe. I do remember spending plenty of time rocking Eliza to sleep. She hated going to sleep and would put up a mighty fight. I was thankful she fell asleep easy at night because she would struggle with it during the day.
After our time in Stanwood we headed north to the Lower Mainland to spend Easter with my family. We also celebrated Erik and my brother Jonathan's 30th birthdays with a hockey party and lunch with our extended family. We rented what I believe was a practice rink and my siblings, cousins, and an aunt, and my uncles played 3-on-3 hockey.
Next installment (hopefully) coming shortly. Monday, November 02, 2015
The Birth of Eliza Jane: Part Five
If you need to catch up... Pregancy. Part One. Part Two. Part Three. Part Four.
Erik telephoned his parents and then we called my family. We used Facetime and had the camera on the baby when my mom answered the phone. Much of my family was huddled around Mom as they were greeted by the face of the newest family member. I told them there was someone for them to come meet and when pressed for more information told them they'd have to come find out.
I called my sisters next. As
Lindsey only lives a five minute drive from the hospital, they arrived
shortly after I called them. I heard them well before they entered the
room. They’d been to see us in the wee hours of the morning so they knew
exactly where to come. Their tears and laughter filled the room before
either of them did. I remember my heart began racing in anticipation and
I was so excited to share my baby with them. I was so excited to share
the joy and surprise and excitement! My tears and laughter joined theirs
as they burst into the room.
My
parents arrived shortly after my sisters. My dad had tears in his eyes
as he held the babe for the first time — I could see the awe and
adoration shining from his face. My poor mom is adorable. She sobbed as
she hugged me and met her grand-daughter; her birthday present.
I
had texted my mom when we were transferring to the hospital, but only
that we were “going to the hospital” and I didn’t give her any updates
after that. She didn’t know what was going on or if something was wrong
with either me or the baby. And she’d known how dilated I was the
previous morning so, like everyone, she’d anticipated things moving a
lot quicker.
We were discharged at 12:00, four hours after delivery, and we met more of my family in the hall on our way out before we headed home to rest.
We didn't have a girl name picked out. Jane was going to be the middle name - after Erik's sister Jayna. We'd known that for years, but we didn't have any first names. I kind of liked a few names though I didn't love any. Harper was probably my top name at the time and I am so glad we didn't go with that. Erik had suggested Eliza a few months back, but I immediately vetoed it. I was less than a fan. He timidly brought the name up again when we were getting ready to go to my parent's for dinner. He told me he really loved Eliza Jane. And that was that. I didn't even like it at the time, but I figured it was better to have a name that one of us loved than one that neither of us was particularly fond of.
And so she had a name :: Eliza Jane ::
Fun fact. Her Uncle Jayna's middle name is Elizabeth. So we have Jayna Elizabeth and Eliza Jane.
We made it to my parent's house for Christmas dinner that evening and Eliza got to meet the entire Jansen clan. And we got to eat delicious food.
It was a busy week. Too busy for my liking, but that's what happens when you have a baby on a holiday when your gigantic family is in town. We had extended family photos at the beach the next day, which was a long three hours of standing.
I plan on taking it a little bit easier the next time around.
Erik telephoned his parents and then we called my family. We used Facetime and had the camera on the baby when my mom answered the phone. Much of my family was huddled around Mom as they were greeted by the face of the newest family member. I told them there was someone for them to come meet and when pressed for more information told them they'd have to come find out.
We were discharged at 12:00, four hours after delivery, and we met more of my family in the hall on our way out before we headed home to rest.
We didn't have a girl name picked out. Jane was going to be the middle name - after Erik's sister Jayna. We'd known that for years, but we didn't have any first names. I kind of liked a few names though I didn't love any. Harper was probably my top name at the time and I am so glad we didn't go with that. Erik had suggested Eliza a few months back, but I immediately vetoed it. I was less than a fan. He timidly brought the name up again when we were getting ready to go to my parent's for dinner. He told me he really loved Eliza Jane. And that was that. I didn't even like it at the time, but I figured it was better to have a name that one of us loved than one that neither of us was particularly fond of.
And so she had a name :: Eliza Jane ::
Fun fact. Her Uncle Jayna's middle name is Elizabeth. So we have Jayna Elizabeth and Eliza Jane.
 |
| Arriving at Grandma and Bapa's for Christmas Dinner. Being bombarded by cousins. |
It was a busy week. Too busy for my liking, but that's what happens when you have a baby on a holiday when your gigantic family is in town. We had extended family photos at the beach the next day, which was a long three hours of standing.
I plan on taking it a little bit easier the next time around.
Monday, October 26, 2015
The Birth of Eliza Jane: Part Four
To catch up: Pregnancy. Part One. Part Two. Part Three.
I had made up my mind and was ready to head to the hospital. The midwife said she had a few things to do before we could go.
Erik sat on the couch and knelt on the floor and draped myself over him as the contractions came wave upon wave upon wave. Mandi valiantly tried to relieve some of the pain in my back, but nothing seemed to be helping. I could not cope.
I could not cope.
I feel ashamed even writing that. And I felt ashamed feeling it at the time, too. I was not the pillar of strength I had hoped I would be and it was a humbling experience.
I held onto Erik for dear life and shuddered and whimpered as the contractions assaulted me. I moaned. I cried. I was unable to control the octave or volume of my sounds. I desperately struggled to maintain any semblance of composure. I was defeated and I knew it.
I felt anger toward my midwife and told Erik so. Hugging his waist, I said I wanted to go to the hospital now, but the midwife was taking her sweet time. I felt it would have been disrespectful to leave when she wasn't ready, but she was just charting and packing up her home birth supplies so she wouldn't have to come back and get them.
For some reason she felt it necessary to start an IV before we left for the hospital. She started an 18 gauge in my right hand at 23:00. It was a terrible start -- she got blood all over (me and her) and my hand was sore for days after. She started infusing normal saline and then, again, discussed the transfer. I held the IV bag while it infused into me, which was ridiculous. She made me wait until the bag had almost fully infused before giving me the go ahead to leave for the hospital. It was 23:30. I don't know why we listened to her. I would have transferred immediately from the tub to the car if I'd had my way. I didn't want to be disrespectful or rude.
We spent a couple minutes gathering things for the hospital (while I carried the IV bag around with me). We weren't prepared for a transfer so we just grabbed what we thought the baby would need and my sandals. The midwife finally locked my IV so I wouldn't have to carry the bag into the hospital with me.
I thankfully had only three contractions en route to the hospital. They lifted me out of my seat and had me squirming, but they were slightly more manageable than the debilitating ones I was experiencing at home.
We arrived at the hospital at 00:20 on Christmas morning.
I could feel that the baby had moved down again and I was determined to get that baby out so I walked the few hundred meters to the elevators and then to the maternity ward. I work on the same floor as the maternity ward (opposite wing) so I prayed we wouldn't run into any coworkers on our way. We only had two contractions between the car and the ward. The contractions were still causing my back to seize and the stinging, twinging, deep stabbing, searing back pain made me feel as though I would crumple.
We arrived at the maternity ward at 00:30. I was wearing my yellow housecoat, a diaper, and my Birkenstock sandals. I must have looked like a hot mess.
I don't know when it was decided that I would get an epidural, but that decision was made between getting out of the tub, trying to not bark at my midwife, and arriving at the hospital. The anesthesiologist was at the hospital when we arrived (praise the Lord!) waiting to do an epidural on another labouring mom. I needed blood drawn and the results to come back before she would be able to administer mine.
I felt slightly panicked for two reasons. The first being that I was terrified of epidurals (I've seen many put in and they're not pretty). The second was that I knew how slow the hospital can be in getting blood drawn and lab results back and a labouring woman is hardly an emergency. I knew it could be hours before the much dreaded procedure could be done.
I waited with bated breath for every contraction to overtake me. I remember myself being wimpy and whiny though I am told this was a false perception. I thought I was being loud, but have been corrected as I remained quiet even when I did cry out.
My midwife continued to be my primary caregiver and the nurse was quiet and forgettable. That isn't meant to sound cruel, she just didn't have much of a presence.
Erik and I had driven alone and Mandi and Abbie stayed back to tidy up a bit (the birth tub had a hole and was deflating). When Mandi arrived I was so relieved to have her cold hands readily available to soothe and center me.
The anesthesiologist arrived around 01:30 to give me the epidural. I told her they terrified me and she was calm, confident, encouraging and just what I needed at the moment. She told Erik to help me stay still and I wouldn't let him. I needed to do it alone for some reason. The anesthesiologist was efficient and I did my best not to cringe as I knew exactly what was going on behind me.
I only had two more full sensation contractions before the epidural started to kick in. By the fifth or sixth contraction I no longer felt back pain.
My birth team was exhausted. I had hormones and endorphins surging through me, but they were all beat. Looking around the room was almost comical as I was met with tired, glazed over eyes with dark circles round them. Everyone was running on empty.
I tried resting like everyone else was doing, but my legs were bothering me too much (a gnawing, aching, exhausted sensation) so I just rubbed my belly, listened to my baby's heartbeat, and flipped from side to side.
My sisters came by at 02:30 after Erik texted them asking for sustenance. They brought some much needed snacks in the wee hours of the morning. I was told it would be best to stick to liquids for the time being, but I wasn't hungry anyway.
When my sisters left we went back to resting. Abbie and Erik tried to sleep and Mandi sat with me and rubbed my head.
The midwife did another internal exam at 02:50 because of increased rectal pressure and informed me that I was now fully dilated, though I had no urge to push yet. I wasn't sure I would feel the urge to push with the epidural, but wanted to give it time in case I would.
Just before 03:30 my dislike of the rectal pressure began to outweigh my desire to wait for the pushing urge. I asked if I would feel an urge with the epidural and the midwife fumbled through some answer and said I could give pushing a try.
I was thankful that I could still feel my contractions so I waited for one to build and when it reached the peak I started pushing.
If I could do it over I wouldn't have started pushing so soon. I know I had been dilated to 10cm for at least 3/4 of an hour, but... I don't know. I don't know what the baby was doing in there and I don't know what I could have done differently to get her out in a more timely fashion and without wasting so much energy.
Mandi unfortunately had to leave soon after the pushing began. She had an eight-month-old who she hadn't been with for far too long and he was mighty unhappy about that.
We tried multiple positions for pushing to see which would be most effective. The babe didn't seem too eager to move. I was surprised that I felt strongest and it seemed my pushing was most effective when I was on my back. I was able to hold my own heels and do a sit-up-push while curled over my belly. In hindsight I would have like to try pushing on my hands and knees over the back of the bed. No one suggested this and I didn’t think of it in the moment.
I didn't anticipate pushing taking so long. I was happy to be pushing and looked forward to meeting our baby soon. But I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed.
I peed all over with the effort of pushing, for which I laughed and apologized. My poor baby was stuck in the birth canal and being showered with urine.
The midwife pushed/pulled my pelvic/pubic bones (I'm not really sure what she was doing, but it looked like it took a lot of effort) apart to make more room for the babe and I bore down and pushed with all my might.
I don’t know how many times the midwife said she was going to consult the obstetrician on-call. She kept saying, “I’ll give you 30 minutes, if I don’t see any progression by such-and-such a time, then I’m going to call the obstetrician.” The first two times she said this I took up the challenge and felt motivated to move my babe. Every time the allotted time passed she would say I wasn’t quite where she hoped I would be but that she’d let me keep trying. I eventually tuned the midwife out as I found her less than helpful.
I needed a bit of encouragement so at around 05:00 Erik took a video to show me how much progression we’d made — feeling my baby’s head with my fingers wasn’t enough for me. Seeing the video was helpful. The baby was so close! Much of the head was visible and the babe was staying put between pushes instead of receding back into my womb.
Erik and Abbie both tried to nap while I continued my attempts to bring our baby earthside. I wasn’t bothered by this as I knew they would wake up and come when the baby was about to be born. I thought this moment wasn’t too far off so I smiled as my husband curled up on a stretcher.
So I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed.
My excitement gave way to doubt. My energy gave way to exhaustion. And my courage gave way to defeat.
For the second time in my labour, I was defeated.
We were all exhausted. And I had a baby stuck in my vagina. My internal resources were zapped and I needed external motivation, encouragement, and energy. I needed the people around me to lift me up and carry me on.
I pathetically asked Erik why our baby wasn’t coming, “Why won’t this baby just. come. out?” I said things like, “It’s been too long. I’m too tired. Four hours is too long to push.” Erik tried his best, but he too looked defeated. He looked confused and exhausted as he held my hand and forced an encouraging smile.
For hours the midwife had been saying same thing over and over and over. “That’s it! Good job, Ashley. You’re doing it. You’re so strong.” I’d lost faith in her long before the baby arrived. Before we left home, actually. Her empty encouragement only annoyed me and was counterproductive as I just wished her away.
The midwife eventually did call the obstetrician and I was told she was on her way. At this point I didn’t care how the baby came out. I even would have welcomed a cesarean section because I clearly wasn’t making progress and I felt that everyone in the room was hopeless and just waiting for nothing to happen. I felt as though no one expected me to push the baby out anymore and that no one believed it was actually going to happen. I don’t think I would have been able to voice this at the time — I don’t think I had the words or could even identify the feeling, but I felt like I was pushing with all my might and I was the only one who believed that baby would come out. And even I began to doubt that.
I remember reaching down to touch our baby’s head and trying to figure out how I could grasp it enough to pull him/her out myself. Or if I could push my skin out of the way so that little head could pop out. Or if someone could give a little slice so there was more room for the baby to come out. Or if maybe that baby could just stay put forever.
Shift change occurred at 07:30. What a gift that was! A new nurse came into the room. She was lovely, encouraging, and calm. She brought life into my weary bones.
Right at the end of a push when I was about to let up and breathe she told me to give one last grunty push to hold the baby where she had progressed to. This little piece of advice made all the difference in the world. Seriously.
I started making a bit of noise for the first time since starting to push. I had wanted my energy to be focused downward, but now I used my voice to quietly keep my baby progressing.
The obstetrician arrived and introduced herself. I’m fairly certain she was mumbling and staring at my baby, but I probably just wasn’t paying attention because I was focused on pushing and grunting. She put one glove on and said, “that baby is coming out of that vagina.” That was all the encouragement I needed to hear. I’d expected to be told that we were going for a c-section.
That baby is coming out of that vagina.
After a couple quiet grunty-ended pushes I started grunting through the entire push. I thought I was being loud, but Erik assures me I wasn’t. I didn’t feel as though I was doing anything different (aside from making noise) but I started feeling the baby move. It was surreal when she started to finally make her way out. I couldn’t stop pushing even though I needed to breathe — I finally felt like my body was actually helping my efforts.
Once her head was delivered I asked if I could catch the baby. The midwife informed me that I still needed to push the body out… Why she thought I wouldn’t know that is beyond me. I promised to do so as I reached down to feel my baby’s head.
I said “Hi, Baby!” and I was flooded with relief that progress was finally being made.
I felt another contraction building and pushed to deliver the body. I was surprised by how much work it took to get the body out. I wanted to pull the baby out myself, but would have been unable to do so in the position I was in. My eyes were closed and I desperately pushed. My hands were still near the baby, but I don’t recall exactly what I was doing with them or what they were feeling. The midwife pulled the babe side to side as she freed her from my womb. She commented on how hard this baby was making me work.
My hands found the babe as I felt her body begin to slide out and helped to pull her up to my chest. She was born at 07:54 on December 25. On Christmas Day in the mor-ning.
My very first thought as I pulled the babe up to my chest was, “where is the other half of him?” I caught a look at the babe’s privates and thought I saw labia, but didn’t believe it. I was certain there was a little boy growing inside of me.
I welcomed our babe saying, “Hello, my sweet.” And then I put my head back and breathed a grateful sigh of relief.
Well, I actually bumbled like an idiot. At first the babe looked angry, and who wouldn’t be? She didn’t cry immediately, but looked around searching with a purple scowl on her face. I asked “What are you?” as I lifted the babe’s leg and announced that we had a girl! She finally cried shortly thereafter.
I remember the warm stickiness of her. Her bleating cries. Her flailing body. She sounded a bit like a little lamb. Her left ear was folded over and stuck to itself. Her head was side-coned and long.
The midwife showed us that there was a true knot in the cord and told us that she’s a lucky girl. The possible complications with the knot thankfully didn’t hit me hard until later, but in that moment I was again grateful that she was here and she was safe.
The babe was clearly distressed on her way out because she pooped en route and meconium covered my legs and abdomen.
We were unable to delay cutting the cord because the baby was having decelerations. Erik cut it 2.5 minutes after delivery while I was busy rubbing the baby and encouraging her to breathe for me. The nurse put an oxygen monitor on the baby’s foot and listened to her heart as we snuggled and I continued my exhausted, whimpering monologue.
Our doula left soon after the delivery and the other midwife, the one I adore, showed up at 08:00. I was so happy to see her. I was especially thankful because the first midwife's hands were trembling from the effort of pushing my bones apart for hours. I needed stitches and I was glad to have some fresh hands in there putting me back together.
We both had some time to cuddle our tiny human before the midwife took her to check her over with Erik. She was tiny -- only 6lbs 15oz. And a wee 19.69 inches long. The midwife wrapped the baby up and Erik brought her back to me. We admired her for a bit longer before calling our families after 10:00.
Next: Part Five
I had made up my mind and was ready to head to the hospital. The midwife said she had a few things to do before we could go.
Erik sat on the couch and knelt on the floor and draped myself over him as the contractions came wave upon wave upon wave. Mandi valiantly tried to relieve some of the pain in my back, but nothing seemed to be helping. I could not cope.
I could not cope.
I feel ashamed even writing that. And I felt ashamed feeling it at the time, too. I was not the pillar of strength I had hoped I would be and it was a humbling experience.
I held onto Erik for dear life and shuddered and whimpered as the contractions assaulted me. I moaned. I cried. I was unable to control the octave or volume of my sounds. I desperately struggled to maintain any semblance of composure. I was defeated and I knew it.
I felt anger toward my midwife and told Erik so. Hugging his waist, I said I wanted to go to the hospital now, but the midwife was taking her sweet time. I felt it would have been disrespectful to leave when she wasn't ready, but she was just charting and packing up her home birth supplies so she wouldn't have to come back and get them.
For some reason she felt it necessary to start an IV before we left for the hospital. She started an 18 gauge in my right hand at 23:00. It was a terrible start -- she got blood all over (me and her) and my hand was sore for days after. She started infusing normal saline and then, again, discussed the transfer. I held the IV bag while it infused into me, which was ridiculous. She made me wait until the bag had almost fully infused before giving me the go ahead to leave for the hospital. It was 23:30. I don't know why we listened to her. I would have transferred immediately from the tub to the car if I'd had my way. I didn't want to be disrespectful or rude.
We spent a couple minutes gathering things for the hospital (while I carried the IV bag around with me). We weren't prepared for a transfer so we just grabbed what we thought the baby would need and my sandals. The midwife finally locked my IV so I wouldn't have to carry the bag into the hospital with me.
I thankfully had only three contractions en route to the hospital. They lifted me out of my seat and had me squirming, but they were slightly more manageable than the debilitating ones I was experiencing at home.
We arrived at the hospital at 00:20 on Christmas morning.
I could feel that the baby had moved down again and I was determined to get that baby out so I walked the few hundred meters to the elevators and then to the maternity ward. I work on the same floor as the maternity ward (opposite wing) so I prayed we wouldn't run into any coworkers on our way. We only had two contractions between the car and the ward. The contractions were still causing my back to seize and the stinging, twinging, deep stabbing, searing back pain made me feel as though I would crumple.
We arrived at the maternity ward at 00:30. I was wearing my yellow housecoat, a diaper, and my Birkenstock sandals. I must have looked like a hot mess.
I don't know when it was decided that I would get an epidural, but that decision was made between getting out of the tub, trying to not bark at my midwife, and arriving at the hospital. The anesthesiologist was at the hospital when we arrived (praise the Lord!) waiting to do an epidural on another labouring mom. I needed blood drawn and the results to come back before she would be able to administer mine.
I felt slightly panicked for two reasons. The first being that I was terrified of epidurals (I've seen many put in and they're not pretty). The second was that I knew how slow the hospital can be in getting blood drawn and lab results back and a labouring woman is hardly an emergency. I knew it could be hours before the much dreaded procedure could be done.
I waited with bated breath for every contraction to overtake me. I remember myself being wimpy and whiny though I am told this was a false perception. I thought I was being loud, but have been corrected as I remained quiet even when I did cry out.
My midwife continued to be my primary caregiver and the nurse was quiet and forgettable. That isn't meant to sound cruel, she just didn't have much of a presence.
Erik and I had driven alone and Mandi and Abbie stayed back to tidy up a bit (the birth tub had a hole and was deflating). When Mandi arrived I was so relieved to have her cold hands readily available to soothe and center me.
The anesthesiologist arrived around 01:30 to give me the epidural. I told her they terrified me and she was calm, confident, encouraging and just what I needed at the moment. She told Erik to help me stay still and I wouldn't let him. I needed to do it alone for some reason. The anesthesiologist was efficient and I did my best not to cringe as I knew exactly what was going on behind me.
I only had two more full sensation contractions before the epidural started to kick in. By the fifth or sixth contraction I no longer felt back pain.
I tried resting like everyone else was doing, but my legs were bothering me too much (a gnawing, aching, exhausted sensation) so I just rubbed my belly, listened to my baby's heartbeat, and flipped from side to side.
My sisters came by at 02:30 after Erik texted them asking for sustenance. They brought some much needed snacks in the wee hours of the morning. I was told it would be best to stick to liquids for the time being, but I wasn't hungry anyway.
When my sisters left we went back to resting. Abbie and Erik tried to sleep and Mandi sat with me and rubbed my head.
The midwife did another internal exam at 02:50 because of increased rectal pressure and informed me that I was now fully dilated, though I had no urge to push yet. I wasn't sure I would feel the urge to push with the epidural, but wanted to give it time in case I would.
Just before 03:30 my dislike of the rectal pressure began to outweigh my desire to wait for the pushing urge. I asked if I would feel an urge with the epidural and the midwife fumbled through some answer and said I could give pushing a try.
I was thankful that I could still feel my contractions so I waited for one to build and when it reached the peak I started pushing.
Mandi unfortunately had to leave soon after the pushing began. She had an eight-month-old who she hadn't been with for far too long and he was mighty unhappy about that.
We tried multiple positions for pushing to see which would be most effective. The babe didn't seem too eager to move. I was surprised that I felt strongest and it seemed my pushing was most effective when I was on my back. I was able to hold my own heels and do a sit-up-push while curled over my belly. In hindsight I would have like to try pushing on my hands and knees over the back of the bed. No one suggested this and I didn’t think of it in the moment.
I peed all over with the effort of pushing, for which I laughed and apologized. My poor baby was stuck in the birth canal and being showered with urine.
The midwife pushed/pulled my pelvic/pubic bones (I'm not really sure what she was doing, but it looked like it took a lot of effort) apart to make more room for the babe and I bore down and pushed with all my might.
I don’t know how many times the midwife said she was going to consult the obstetrician on-call. She kept saying, “I’ll give you 30 minutes, if I don’t see any progression by such-and-such a time, then I’m going to call the obstetrician.” The first two times she said this I took up the challenge and felt motivated to move my babe. Every time the allotted time passed she would say I wasn’t quite where she hoped I would be but that she’d let me keep trying. I eventually tuned the midwife out as I found her less than helpful.
Erik and Abbie both tried to nap while I continued my attempts to bring our baby earthside. I wasn’t bothered by this as I knew they would wake up and come when the baby was about to be born. I thought this moment wasn’t too far off so I smiled as my husband curled up on a stretcher.
So I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed.
My excitement gave way to doubt. My energy gave way to exhaustion. And my courage gave way to defeat.
For the second time in my labour, I was defeated.
We were all exhausted. And I had a baby stuck in my vagina. My internal resources were zapped and I needed external motivation, encouragement, and energy. I needed the people around me to lift me up and carry me on.
I pathetically asked Erik why our baby wasn’t coming, “Why won’t this baby just. come. out?” I said things like, “It’s been too long. I’m too tired. Four hours is too long to push.” Erik tried his best, but he too looked defeated. He looked confused and exhausted as he held my hand and forced an encouraging smile.
For hours the midwife had been saying same thing over and over and over. “That’s it! Good job, Ashley. You’re doing it. You’re so strong.” I’d lost faith in her long before the baby arrived. Before we left home, actually. Her empty encouragement only annoyed me and was counterproductive as I just wished her away.
I remember reaching down to touch our baby’s head and trying to figure out how I could grasp it enough to pull him/her out myself. Or if I could push my skin out of the way so that little head could pop out. Or if someone could give a little slice so there was more room for the baby to come out. Or if maybe that baby could just stay put forever.
Shift change occurred at 07:30. What a gift that was! A new nurse came into the room. She was lovely, encouraging, and calm. She brought life into my weary bones.
Right at the end of a push when I was about to let up and breathe she told me to give one last grunty push to hold the baby where she had progressed to. This little piece of advice made all the difference in the world. Seriously.
I started making a bit of noise for the first time since starting to push. I had wanted my energy to be focused downward, but now I used my voice to quietly keep my baby progressing.
The obstetrician arrived and introduced herself. I’m fairly certain she was mumbling and staring at my baby, but I probably just wasn’t paying attention because I was focused on pushing and grunting. She put one glove on and said, “that baby is coming out of that vagina.” That was all the encouragement I needed to hear. I’d expected to be told that we were going for a c-section.
That baby is coming out of that vagina.
After a couple quiet grunty-ended pushes I started grunting through the entire push. I thought I was being loud, but Erik assures me I wasn’t. I didn’t feel as though I was doing anything different (aside from making noise) but I started feeling the baby move. It was surreal when she started to finally make her way out. I couldn’t stop pushing even though I needed to breathe — I finally felt like my body was actually helping my efforts.
I said “Hi, Baby!” and I was flooded with relief that progress was finally being made.
I felt another contraction building and pushed to deliver the body. I was surprised by how much work it took to get the body out. I wanted to pull the baby out myself, but would have been unable to do so in the position I was in. My eyes were closed and I desperately pushed. My hands were still near the baby, but I don’t recall exactly what I was doing with them or what they were feeling. The midwife pulled the babe side to side as she freed her from my womb. She commented on how hard this baby was making me work.
My hands found the babe as I felt her body begin to slide out and helped to pull her up to my chest. She was born at 07:54 on December 25. On Christmas Day in the mor-ning.
I welcomed our babe saying, “Hello, my sweet.” And then I put my head back and breathed a grateful sigh of relief.
Well, I actually bumbled like an idiot. At first the babe looked angry, and who wouldn’t be? She didn’t cry immediately, but looked around searching with a purple scowl on her face. I asked “What are you?” as I lifted the babe’s leg and announced that we had a girl! She finally cried shortly thereafter.
I remember the warm stickiness of her. Her bleating cries. Her flailing body. She sounded a bit like a little lamb. Her left ear was folded over and stuck to itself. Her head was side-coned and long.
The babe was clearly distressed on her way out because she pooped en route and meconium covered my legs and abdomen.
We were unable to delay cutting the cord because the baby was having decelerations. Erik cut it 2.5 minutes after delivery while I was busy rubbing the baby and encouraging her to breathe for me. The nurse put an oxygen monitor on the baby’s foot and listened to her heart as we snuggled and I continued my exhausted, whimpering monologue.
Our doula left soon after the delivery and the other midwife, the one I adore, showed up at 08:00. I was so happy to see her. I was especially thankful because the first midwife's hands were trembling from the effort of pushing my bones apart for hours. I needed stitches and I was glad to have some fresh hands in there putting me back together.
Next: Part Five
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