Baby 5: Delivered

I was getting a little worried I was going to end up writing another pregnancy update, but after some hard work, we're on the other side of pregnancy. Baby boy is a mere 4 days old, but we're already falling into a nice routine. I'm still a little worn around the edges from his delivery, but overall I feel really great. He was worth all the work and stress. For those of you who had asked, I figured I should share a little glimpse into his birth as best as I could. We weren't as prolific about tweeting this birth (primarily because I couldn't get onto the hospital wifi until after he was born), so while there are a few tweets from my husband and I, most of this will be from my memory. I figured I should write it out now before it got too hazy!

To do this right, I'll have to take us back to Friday, May 24th. A just shy of a week overdue I started feeling some cramping. At first they were all over the map, but by the time the evening hit, they were starting to be quite regular, at around 10 minutes apart. I lost my mucous plug, and while they stayed at 10 minutes apart, they gradually picked up in intensity. After a full weekend of contractions holding steady at 10 minutes apart, we decided to check in at the hospital on Monday to make sure baby was okay and that my water wasn't leaking. By chance our family doctor (aka Baby Catcher Supreme!) was on rotation that day and talked us through everything. I was clearly in early labour, but my water was intact and I wasn't dilating quickly at all. Because baby was sending some pretty clear signals that he was done cooking, we decided we should book an appointment with the post-dates clinic to see how favourable things looked for an induction. On Wednesday we went in for that appointment and were told that my cervix was favourable for having my water broken, but that it still wasn't much more dilated. We also discovered that what I by this point had figured was Braxton-Hicks (aka practice contractions) were indeed real contractions. They just weren't intense enough to do more than just efface my cervix. I had maxed out at around 3cm and %70 effaced on those contractions, which was great, but not enough. So they put us on the list for inductions, and told us we were on the list for the next day, Thursday. We were told to wait by the phone for our call to come in. Stressful! On the way home we stocked up on a few extra groceries and made the best of our afternoon with the kids, getting in all the extra cuddles we could. I then somewhat frantically went about setting our house in slightly better order, finishing up the last of the lingering chores.

Thursday came. The day of our induction. We got up ridiculously early (who can sleep with dreams of labour and newborns dancing in their heads?) and waited for the call. And waited. And waited. After a while I decided to call ahead and see what the state of the Birth Unit was. Inductions are always bumped by how many emergencies and deliveries come through. As it turns out, I was third on the inductions list, and by lunch time the first Mama hadn't even been taken in. It turns out that there were no less than 4 emergency C-sections (a rarity at our hospital) and that they'd had to call in extra nurses to fill all the gaps as what was apparently a higher than normal number of women went into labour at the same time. As we called to check in (which we were advised to do) our hopes of a Thursday induction or even a May baby dwindled. Finally at around 10pm we were told they might call us through the night, but not to count on it.

Friday morning came. Another sleepless night. We were woken suddenly by the phone's insistent ringing at around 5:15am. We were being called in. A spot had finally opened! After calling our kind and awesome babysitters we rushed to the hospital. They quickly broke my water and after some discussion we decided to hold off on hooking me up to an IV drip of Pitocin to get some productive contractions going. Once my water was broken which was done in what I figure must have been the most painful way possible because baby was so low the on call Doc had to shuffle him away so she wouldn't scratch him with the little plastic hook they use to break the bag. At first the water was clear, but then as it kept spilling there was a tinge of very pale yellow. Meconium staining. Not exactly ideal.

Not too long in there was a shift change and you can't imagine my joy when the same nurse we'd had for our third child walked through the door all full of smiles and happiness. She is for sure the best nurse at our hospital (a hospital blessed with lost of incredible nurses). We knew as soon as she walked in the door that no matter what happened, our delivery experience was going to be a positive one. She's Catholic and comes from the same part of town as my husband, and shares a lot of our parenting views. The whole first part of our delivery felt like catching up with an old friend, even if it was punctuated by contractions. Speaking of contractions, after my water broke I kind of expect things to go gangbusters, but, well... they didn't. They got a little stronger, and definitely painful, but never enough that I couldn't talk through them. I didn't show any progress at all, even after 2 hours of walking, rocking, lunging and standing. Nothing. So after talking it through with our lovely nurse and doctor, we decided together that it was time to start the Pitocin drip. As I alluded to before, I'm not a big fan of Pitocin. It's synthetic chemical that causes contractions. But not regular old contractions, but big, intense, incredibly painful contractions. At first the contractions weren't too bad. They were intense for sure, but with a little calm thinking and breathing it was no big deal. For the first two hours of the Pitocin I was convinced that maybe I had imagined how bad the contractions could get. Then, it really started ramping up. Almost before I knew what was happening I suddenly felt I couldn't take the pain. I had been relaxing on the bed and then I jumped out of the bed and had my husband putting counter-pressure on my back. That lasted for about 10 contractions before even that wasn't helping. After talking options, the nurse hooked up the gas (laughing gas like at the dentist) and using that and still more counter-pressure on my back I worked through quite a few more contractions. I was even laughing and joking between the contractions. Although in retrospect most of the jokes I was making weren't particularly funny, and surely hilarious only to me as I was really digging that laughing gas. The contractions were coming in pairs, and then only with about a minute of break between the pairs. In my head I could practically see the ticking time clock set in motion by the meconium staining in my water. Around then my Doc showed up (rejoice!) and she could see I was working through the contractions with great effort and lots of prayers from my husband (who doesn't love a man who will chant the Hail Mary in your ear as many times as it takes to last a contraction while rubbing your back and holding your hand?). She figured we had some time before I was fully dilated since I had been at 4cm about an hour and a half before, so after a short chat she went about some business she had around the hospital.

While my nurse was on a short break I felt things starting to escalate beyond my control again, even with the gas. I remember asking the relief nurse to check my dilation and what I remember so strongly was that I heard her say I was at 4cm or maybe 5cm in the midst of my pain. My husband and I both cried in somewhat hilarious unison: "You've got to be kidding me!!!". The nurse smiled like an angel and then clarified that she said I definitely WASN'T 4 or 5cm, but had in fact hit closer to 7 or 8cm. Even though I was in agony I couldn't help but laugh at our reaction. I was so excited we were on our way as I usually hit transition at 7cm and knew we were in the home stretch. Within a few moments of that little ray of hope, the pain went off the charts. Even the gas couldn't distract me from the pain. I started clutching in desperation onto the side rails of the bed and moaning and crying out. Somewhere in my mind I knew that the pain was good, but I was fighting with all my will to see the good in it in those moments. I kept trying to direct my thoughts towards the prayer intentions I had brought with me. One particular intention for a family in deep mourning kept coming to mind and giving me glimpses of purpose and peace. While I was still sitting at around 8cm I could feel myself losing control of my body and I started to push. My Doc was still on another floor and they started calling for her to come quickly. My nurse had just come back from her break (just in time!) and asked me to hold off on pushing so I didn't bruise my cervix. I held off for one more contraction and then just gave in to the undeniable need to push. While I was already pushing my Doc came in and got her gown on in haste and got there just in time to see baby getting ready to crown. While she was still getting her gown on I cried out to my husband I thought for sure I was tearing and stopped pushing for a few seconds before the urge to push overcame my instinct to protect my own body. With my Doc, nurse, and beloved husband all with me, I pushed through a few more contractions and almost before I knew it he was out. I can't even begin to express the level of relief that washed over me when I felt his little shoulders pass as baby girl had had shoulder dystocia. The Doc told us after he had come out face up, which explains why I thought I was tearing. Once I pushed out the placenta the Doc announced with a note of surprise I didn't have any tearing at all and everything was in good order.

As for baby, there was a tense second for us, as we were scared about the results of the meconium staining. Against their best efforts he'd let out a gorgeous and hearty cry before they had the chance to suction him, which mean any meconium in his mouth would have been sucked into his lungs. He was whisked away to the other end of the room and the neo-natal team got to work on him. As it turns out, he hadn't breathed in any meconium! Considering he had been in the meconium stained water for about 12 hours, I'm convinced this was nothing short of a miracle. He did had a little bruising on his forehead from the brief moment I had held back from pushing when I thought I was tearing, but that's already resolved at a mere four days later.

That's the long version of how our 5th baby and our 3rd son came into the world. On Friday, May 31st, 2013, at 5:56pm our beautiful boy came to meet us. At 8lbs3oz he was medium size for our family, and has already filled a gap in our lives. He is the source and recipient of so much love, and the answer to many prayers. We have thanked God for him every day since the pregnancy test let us know of our joy, and for the past four days, we have tasted the deepening of joy in holding him, seeing him, and sharing him.

Baby 5: Hospital Bag

I figured it was finally time to pack my hospital back. Not so fascinating piece of trivia: I bought the bag I've used for every hospital trip for my pilgrimage to Rome in 2000 for World Youth Day. Right after getting home from giving birth to baby girl, the shoulder strap broke, but I love the capacity of the bag enough that I'm willing to carry it by the handles. So, here's what I packed! At the end is a list of everything, including what's either not pictured (no of my underpants!) or not packed yet!

 

 

 

Toiletries: Deodorant, toothbrush and toothpaste, facial moisturizer, bar soap, hand cream, disposable nursing pads, razor (don't judge! I'm going to be able to actually see my legs for the first time in months!), shampoo and conditioner (travel size, not pictured) and my favourite lip chap. I find all the hospital very dry, so I made sure to include everything I need to stay moisturized and happy! I also have a zip up clear bag I throw my toiletries in.

 

New this time around, reusable cloth nursing pads with a waterproof zip-up bag for used nursing pads. Brand: Charlie Banana, bought at Fluffy Bottom Babies

 

These are new this time around too! Based on my own personal hatred of scratchy disposable pads and the recommendation of a friend who used them after delivery her second child, I decided to give reusable nursing pads a try. I have 12 of the postpartum style. Brand: Tree Hugger Cloth Pads, bought at Fluffy Bottom Babies

 

Two full pairs of pyjamas plus an extra top! I plan on living in these! I got them off the sale rack at Joe Fresh for about $7 for each set.

 

The ever essential nursing cover! Peekaboob brand, purchased at the Royal Diaperer last pregnancy. A real favourite for me!

 

Adorable and very large Lulujo swaddling blankets with cute little owls on it, bought at Fluffy Bottom Babies! While this may not seem essential, we got one of these for baby girl and it's still a favourite. Plus, the owls, they're so stinkin' cute! 

 

This was a big ticket item for us last pregnancy: A delivery gown from Dressed to Deliver! This buttons down for easy nursing, is comfortable enough that I wore it pretty much the entire last month of my pregnancy last go around, and has hidden buttons all along the front and the back for easy access for fetal monitoring and (if I had wanted one) an epidural. The jersey fabric is really comfortable and breathes well, and I couldn't get over the fact that despite my messy delivery, the dressed pulled easily out of the way and washed beautifully. Seriously, one of my best delivery purchases!

 

A little hat I knitted for the little man after we found out he was a boy. I suspect it will be too big, and additionally that it will be too warm in May for this hat, but I made it, so it's coming.

 

This is a part of my packing I've refined a lot since our first baby. I used to pack a week's worth of clothes, but I've whittled it down to two pairs of yoga pants and three nursing friendly tops.

 

Adorable Bummis newborn sized diapers! 24 prefolds and three covers (Yes, only three covers instead of four. I somehow lost one. My eye is still twitching). I love these because they dip down to make room for the umbilical stump. They're also very easy to use and so cheap! I bought one pack for baby girl and loved them, so this time we got another pack the weekend we found out we were pregnant at Fluffy Bottom Babies!

 

 

 

I'm pretty minimalistic when it comes to baby clothes. I suspect he'll spend a lot of his time in just a diaper at the hospital so we can be skin to skin as much as possible. That being said, I got out two newborn sleepers we've had since we were pregnant with our first. They were shower gifts for sure and very cute!

 

After a little thinking, we also picked out a little outfit to bring the man home in! A pair of shorts (he'll have his legs covered with a blanket!), the "I'm the Little Brother" shirt my husband bought the day our oldest son was born from the hospital gift shop, and a sweet little knitted sweater, which was a hand-me-down from one of our families. It could be from my Mom, but it seems statistically likely (since she gave us so many from when my husband and his brother were babies) that this is from my husband's family. It's so tiny and cute!

 

The aforementioned bag. It looks pretty full, but there's actually quite a bit of room left in it!

 

 

My biggest tip for any Mom's packing a hospital bag is to bring whatever you think you'll really need, but know you can always send someone home for extras. Also, there's lots of stuff you can't pack more than a month in advance (like your phone charger, your camera, etc) so make sure you put a list of everything you need to add to your bag on top of everything inside your bag. When you're in labour, you'll be too scattered to try and remember what you're missing. Making this list will also soothe your nesting instinct nicely! I also recommend if you have older kids to have a note for whoever will be watching your kids with any information about their routine and eating habits that'll make things easier. That when they show up you won't feel obligated to explain at length that your kids love ketchup on everything and don't want any of their food touching each other (or whatever maddening eccentricities you feel that it's only fair to disclose).

 

 

So, for the sake of clarity, here's my packing list:

 

 

Nursing bras (2-3. Mine are all from Nummies and I love them! I have one that's a jersey fabric that's perfect for labour)

Nursing pads (both disposable and reusable)

Postpartum menstrual pads (yes, first time Moms, pads. Bring lots!)

Delivery Dress

Yoga Pants (2)

Shirts (3)

Pyjamas (2 pants, three tops)

Socks (the fluffier the better!)

Underpants (of the ugly and huge granny variety, you've got to hook those mega pads to something)

Nursing cover

Diapers (24 prefolds + 3 covers)

Fancy receiving blanket (which I slept with in the bed for 2 weeks to get it smelling like Mama. Poor kid)

Toiletries (shampoo, conditioner, soap, toothpaste, toothbrush, deodorant, hand lotion, face cream, razor, lip chap)

Baby clothes (two sleepers and an outfit to go home in)

 

Now here's the stuff I haven't packed yet:

 

Camera (with a huge pack of extra batteries)

Slippers (hard soled so I can wear them like shoes postpartum)

Granola bars (two packs for energy for my husband and myself!)

Nursing pillow (this will be carried separately as it's kind of huge)

Zippable wet bag (I like the Fabulous Wet Bag from Bummis, great for my clothes after labour and baby's diapers)

Gum (because it's dry in the hospital and it's distracting)

Tall water bottle (I hate Styrofoam cups. One contraction and I've crushed it and spilled water everywhere. Ugh!!!!!!!!)

Both phones and both chargers

Pre-loaded iPod with neat speaker system dock (Mama needs music, I`m going to sing this baby out!)

Small statue of Our Lady of Guadeloupe (my focus object)

Rosary (his and hers)

Water from Our Lady of Lourdes

Oil of St. Joseph from the St. Joseph`s Oratory in Montreal (anointing babies, it`s happening)

Praise for Dads

A friend of mine just had her third baby. (Yayyyyyy! Congrats Mama!) Her husband brought their two older kids to Church while she stayed home to rest (since their baby was born 2 days before) and while I was busy trying to congratulate the new Papa, I overhead a comment that made me want to lose my mind. While patting him on the back, an older gentlemen repeated more than once his congratulations, while reminding the new Dad, who was joyfully caring for his two older children solo, that he shouldn't really be congratulated on the birth as he had done NOTHING. I still have steam pouring out of my ears over this comment. I know for a fact that if my friend had been there, she would have sung the praises of her wonderful husband, but as she wasn't there he, cool as a cucumber, smiled very modestly and praised his wife for her excellence in all things.

So why am I, a woman who has personally pushed out 4 children, so upset? This couple's labour experience is %100 not my business, but I find the attitude that men have no job or place in the delivery room (or if you're super cool and do homebirths, in the living room!) so archaic and sexist. Yes, our husbands will never have to push a baby out their business, but that's okay, because they're not built to do that. Although my husband has said more than once that he would gladly take the pain rather than watch me fight through it. But that's not his job during labour. His job during labour is to stand by me, and be my rock. And he is. I have no idea how I would have survived my 4th labour without an epidural if he wasn't next to me, holding my hand, encouraging and empowering me, praying with me, and doing pretty much any reasonable thing I asked him quickly and with joy. The heart of service my husband shows me while I'm giving birth is nothing less than saintly.  Beforehand, he also did every thing he could to learn about my needs and desires for labour, so that when I was in la la land during contractions, he could be my advocate. Nobody touched me let alone gave me an intervention without having to go through him. The doctors would have had a better chance doing something he knew I wouldn't have wanted if they had asked a hungry tiger while wearing bloody zebra steaks for coats.

Gone are the days of men puffing cigars in the waiting room while waiting for doctors to let them know how their wives fared. Fathers of this generation know all the lingo for labour, have educated themselves on what the mothers of their children want, and are there in the delivery room doing all they can to make sure all she has to worry about is getting through the next contraction or push. By the time we're done having kids, my Husband will be able to write a PhD thesis about labour, and give practical courses on massage therapy and how to scare the crap out of medical staff who don't show respect. And let's not forget that in the case of 2nd, 3rd, or 4th siblings, Dads go home after no sleep and an emotional roller coaster wilder than the wildest theme park, and get back to the business of parenting while waiting for Mum and the new baby to be released from the hospital. While some would call that "babysitting" (and if you do in front of me, I apologise for the fact that I may accidentally punch you in the throat), I call that real parenting.

Anyone who knows the real men, the real Dads of this generation and how hard they work for the women they love wouldn't dare say that they don't do anything during labour and delivery or afterwards. These are modest good men not looking for any praise, but that doesn't mean taking a swipe at their dignity and contribution to the life of their family is right. It's absolutely shameful that anyone should assume they have to right to even joke like that with the Dads of our generation. Men who would think to say that men like my husband or my friend's husband did NOTHING during labour, have a lot to learn about what it means to be a real man in this day and age.