So, 10 days after my ESTIMATED due date, Miss Ellie Connor Adams entered peacefully into the world. Here's my labour & birth story.
Friday evening. Overdue day 9. My hubby and I decided to go to a movie in the city and leave Miss A with her Nana and Papa, since they would be with us until Tuesday. We thought we would take advantage of the help, and go on a date while there were still only three of us.
During the movie, I started having some mild contractions that were around 6 minutes apart, but not very intense. Came home, went to bed, but only two contractions woke me in the night. This had been happening for weeks. I was not getting too excited, even though by then I was 10 days overdue.
On the morning of day 10, a Monday, my husband went to work, my Dad went to teach a course in the city, and my contractions came back. I hadn't been sharing my contractions with my Mom, because until then, I was sure they would amount to nothing. This time I told her and said that we should pack up A and head to West Edmonton Mall to walk so that I could try and gain some momentum.
I had an appointment for a non-stress test at the Sturgeon hospital at 1pm that day, so we walked around the mall, shopped, had lunch and then headed to the hospital. My contractions were actually getting stronger and had a pattern! My body was actually doing what it was supposed to do - naturally!!
At 1pm, I was hooked up to the fetal monitor at the Sturgeon, while my Mom waited in the car with A, who was sleeping. It was supposed to take 30 min, and then we were going back to the mall to walk.
Instead, I was there for 3 hours - which included several blood pressure checks that snowballed into bloodwork and the threat that I might have to stay to be medically induced.
This was my worst nightmare.
Both of mine and my Mom's cellphones were almost dead at this time (darn contraction timers!), and we corresponded with my midwives from the hospital on 1% and 3% batteries. When they asked how I was, I told them I was fine and that I would come in the next morning for an attempt at natural induction. This was at 4pm.
By 4:01pm, everything changed.
My contractions were suddenly very clearly getting stronger and longer.
As I laboured in the parking lot of the Sturgeon hospital, my Mom ran inside to call the birth centre to tell them we were, in fact, coming.
My Dad was on his way to the Sturgeon and Blake had no idea what was going on. Save for a couple of text messages, he thought it was just another false labour day.
My Mom drove, in rush hour, on the freeway, while I gave directions in between contractions.
We arrived at the Lucina Centre at 4:55pm. I called Blake, who was just leaving work to go home. He arrived at 5:35pm and I was already in the bath tub.
Labour was intense. Easily the most intense 2.5 hours of my entire life. I don't want to say that it was painful, because I trusted my body and knew that this intensity was necessary for us to meet our baby.
Because I'd had an epidural previously, I didn't recognize the urge to push. When I finally decided that yes, I think pushing is next, it felt so good! It was a relief to be working with my contractions and not just through them.
I started pushing at 6:00pm. Ellie arrived at 6:23pm after only two contractions. The cord was wrapped around her neck and shoulder, but she was perfect.
My Mom got to be present just as she came out and was placed on my chest in the tub. A dream she had, and I was happy to be a part of, as she was my support during the entire day!
Even as I write this post, it seems absolutely surreal that only 9 days ago I had such a powerful life experience. Natural birth is in a different realm from medicated births. It is calm and peaceful and just seems so 'right'.
If there is ever a baby Adams #3, I would, without a second thought, be delivering at the birth centre again.
What a profound journey it has been and we are crazy in love with our new daughter!
PICTURES TO BE ADDED LATER
Wednesday 13 June 2012
Wednesday 23 May 2012
Two Days
I am two days away from my due date.
I was induced 5 days before my due date with my last baby, and so at this point, last time, I was already a Mom.
This fact makes it exponentially more difficult to still be pregnant two days before my due date.
I am fully expecting to be pregnant at this time next week, and possibly for the rest of my life.
Well, I'm sure the baby and universe have other plans. But right now, I feel as though I will simply continue to grow a baby into a toddler within my uterus.
Every woman who has ever been pregnant knows that the last few weeks of pregnancy can be very uncomfortable. But the very last week, if you arecursed lucky enough to make it to 40 weeks can be not only the MOST uncomfortable days of your life, but also very emotionally draining as you literally wait, and wait, and wait. To go into labour.
Having never had this happen to me before. I continue to wait to fall into this mythical period, called 'labour'.
Every cramp, braxton hick contraction, back ache, I PRAY will turn into the most painful experience of my life.
I am currently PRAYING to be in an immeasurable amount of pain. That's right. If that is my golden ticket out of pregnancy, then I want it, as Smegol wanted that damn ring.
I am hoping that my next post includes the addition of another occupant on the planet.
Otherwise, I will continue growing this baby into a toddler...
I was induced 5 days before my due date with my last baby, and so at this point, last time, I was already a Mom.
This fact makes it exponentially more difficult to still be pregnant two days before my due date.
I am fully expecting to be pregnant at this time next week, and possibly for the rest of my life.
Well, I'm sure the baby and universe have other plans. But right now, I feel as though I will simply continue to grow a baby into a toddler within my uterus.
Every woman who has ever been pregnant knows that the last few weeks of pregnancy can be very uncomfortable. But the very last week, if you are
Having never had this happen to me before. I continue to wait to fall into this mythical period, called 'labour'.
Every cramp, braxton hick contraction, back ache, I PRAY will turn into the most painful experience of my life.
I am currently PRAYING to be in an immeasurable amount of pain. That's right. If that is my golden ticket out of pregnancy, then I want it, as Smegol wanted that damn ring.
I am hoping that my next post includes the addition of another occupant on the planet.
Otherwise, I will continue growing this baby into a toddler...
Monday 7 May 2012
May Day!
My due date is 18 days away.
I was reminded of the power (READ: pain!!) of labour earlier in the month when I had several days worth of contractions that lead up to prelabour and then fizzled into nothing.
It was ok, because I'm not ready and I'd rather this little peanut put on another lb or two before making its escape.
It was ok except for the terrifying hour and twenty minutes of hard contractions. Contractions that felt and could be seen as abdomen wrenching, tightening that released for what felt like JUST enough time to catch a breath before launching into the next.
Goddamnit. What am I IN for!?!?!?!?!
It was an unpleasant reminder of my last labour, over two years ago.
But my last labour was induced, and in so many ways, I feel like my last birth experience was somehow "robbed" from me because of the chemical intervention.
The day of my prelabour, I had flashbacks to my first hospital labour when I spent, what felt like hours, but was in reality not even one hour, crouched over an exercise ball. Crouched over this plastic ball, kneeling on a hospital floor while a nurse held a monitor to my belly on one side and my husband and doula spoke encouraging words on the other.
Each contraction overtook me.
After reading several books about birthing naturally, I now believe that a hospital is not an ideal location for having a baby.
I wonder if the "emergent" atmosphere of the hospital that night, was in some way responsible for my own feelings of inadeqaucy?
While I am terrified and excited for my impending birth, this time around, I am also aware that my surroundings will be very different, and this time I know the strength of my body and understand that this time the hormones surging through my body will be all my own, and not dripping through a tube into my veins.
Hopefully my "May Day" comes sooner, rather than later...
I was reminded of the power (READ: pain!!) of labour earlier in the month when I had several days worth of contractions that lead up to prelabour and then fizzled into nothing.
It was ok, because I'm not ready and I'd rather this little peanut put on another lb or two before making its escape.
It was ok except for the terrifying hour and twenty minutes of hard contractions. Contractions that felt and could be seen as abdomen wrenching, tightening that released for what felt like JUST enough time to catch a breath before launching into the next.
Goddamnit. What am I IN for!?!?!?!?!
It was an unpleasant reminder of my last labour, over two years ago.
But my last labour was induced, and in so many ways, I feel like my last birth experience was somehow "robbed" from me because of the chemical intervention.
The day of my prelabour, I had flashbacks to my first hospital labour when I spent, what felt like hours, but was in reality not even one hour, crouched over an exercise ball. Crouched over this plastic ball, kneeling on a hospital floor while a nurse held a monitor to my belly on one side and my husband and doula spoke encouraging words on the other.
Each contraction overtook me.
After reading several books about birthing naturally, I now believe that a hospital is not an ideal location for having a baby.
I wonder if the "emergent" atmosphere of the hospital that night, was in some way responsible for my own feelings of inadeqaucy?
While I am terrified and excited for my impending birth, this time around, I am also aware that my surroundings will be very different, and this time I know the strength of my body and understand that this time the hormones surging through my body will be all my own, and not dripping through a tube into my veins.
Hopefully my "May Day" comes sooner, rather than later...
Monday 16 April 2012
For the Love of Running
In my years of running (16 to be exact), I have come across many types of people. I have had some of the most incredible supporters, and I have also encountered some of the most negative people I have every met in my life.
I run to spite the negative guys.
One of my most favorite sayings of all time goes along the lines of, the greatest accomplishment in life is doing what others say you cannot do, but do not quote me on that!
I truly gain more when I complete a race that is further, or faster than my doubters, or even I thought I could accomplish. And believe me, I can be one of the most negative people in my own life - and that doesn't apply only to running! But that's a whole other can of worms...
As my belly expands in size and I count down the weeks left to meet this amazing little person, I find myself daydreaming about my return to running and it is easily, and without doubt the one thing that I look forward to most once I am done being pregnant.
I am planning races, both short and long, familiar and new so that I can strive towards new running goals. Running is such an innate part of who I am that I truly don't think I will ever NOT be a runner.
I am not built like a runner. In fact, I believe that my gene lineage comes from a group of ancient Japanese Sumo wrestlers. Seriously. If you didn't know me and I told you I was a runner, you would probably quietly think to yourself, 'yah, I bet you run to the fridge alot'.
And I can't blame you.
I. Am. Not. Built. Like. A. Runner.
But I do it anyways. And I in turn find it eternally frustrating when someone who is 10, or 20 or 40 pounds lighter than me say that they can't run.
EVERYONE can run. But not everyone WILL run.
This post was inspired by a video that a triathlete friend of mine shared with me. It is about two women, well into their 60s and 70s who have both completed a 100 MILE race. I just wrote MILE. That's 160 km. Nearly 4 marathons, ran at once.
I want to be a Grandmother of Endurance, and here is the link to their running story.
Grandmother's of Endurance
I run to spite the negative guys.
One of my most favorite sayings of all time goes along the lines of, the greatest accomplishment in life is doing what others say you cannot do, but do not quote me on that!
I truly gain more when I complete a race that is further, or faster than my doubters, or even I thought I could accomplish. And believe me, I can be one of the most negative people in my own life - and that doesn't apply only to running! But that's a whole other can of worms...
As my belly expands in size and I count down the weeks left to meet this amazing little person, I find myself daydreaming about my return to running and it is easily, and without doubt the one thing that I look forward to most once I am done being pregnant.
I am planning races, both short and long, familiar and new so that I can strive towards new running goals. Running is such an innate part of who I am that I truly don't think I will ever NOT be a runner.
I am not built like a runner. In fact, I believe that my gene lineage comes from a group of ancient Japanese Sumo wrestlers. Seriously. If you didn't know me and I told you I was a runner, you would probably quietly think to yourself, 'yah, I bet you run to the fridge alot'.
And I can't blame you.
I. Am. Not. Built. Like. A. Runner.
But I do it anyways. And I in turn find it eternally frustrating when someone who is 10, or 20 or 40 pounds lighter than me say that they can't run.
EVERYONE can run. But not everyone WILL run.
This post was inspired by a video that a triathlete friend of mine shared with me. It is about two women, well into their 60s and 70s who have both completed a 100 MILE race. I just wrote MILE. That's 160 km. Nearly 4 marathons, ran at once.
I want to be a Grandmother of Endurance, and here is the link to their running story.
Grandmother's of Endurance
Tuesday 3 April 2012
Gold Star Parenting?
The learning curve for parents is anything but a curve. I'm not even sure one should try and graph it because it seems that as soon as you can pat yourself on the back for mastering something, the very next day you will fail miserably at it.
But I think that this is a mentality that is hard to kick, but also very necessary to becoming a great parent.
Parenting is about learning, but it isn't about learning to be the best. It is about learning how to create a family with the people who live under the roof. Your children don't care if your house is spotless, or that you can change your own tire. They also have no interest in your own self-hatred, so stop beating yourself up for every damn thing!
Children are extremely observant and one of my biggest challenges, given that we will have two daughters soon, is making sure not to be too hard on myself.
When you don't have children, your inner voice can tell you all sorts of nasty things and you are more than welcome to listen and agree, however, once you become a Mom or a Dad, you are now the direct role model and first influence on your kids and the LAST thing I want to teach my girls is that television and magazines, and God help me, even those catty bitches in her kindergarten class are right.
So, the point of this post is that I really do think that parents should be giving themselves more 'Gold Star's' if they expect their children to be able to do the same. How can I expect lil A and her sister to be proud and make the right decisions because it will make them feel good, if we as parents won't give ourselves the same permission?
Stop comparing yourself to other parents, stop beating yourself up because you didn't provide 4 food groups at breakfast, stop worrying and fussing over every scheduled detail of your child's life because in the end, the only thing they WILL remember is the time you spent with them. Memories are not created from clean homes, gymnastics or play dates...they are built from time spent as a family having FUN!!
Good advice, right?
It's hard to follow, and even if you don't, I am of a strong belief that everyone's kids, no matter how you decide to parent them, will turn out JUST FINE!
But I think that this is a mentality that is hard to kick, but also very necessary to becoming a great parent.
Parenting is about learning, but it isn't about learning to be the best. It is about learning how to create a family with the people who live under the roof. Your children don't care if your house is spotless, or that you can change your own tire. They also have no interest in your own self-hatred, so stop beating yourself up for every damn thing!
Children are extremely observant and one of my biggest challenges, given that we will have two daughters soon, is making sure not to be too hard on myself.
When you don't have children, your inner voice can tell you all sorts of nasty things and you are more than welcome to listen and agree, however, once you become a Mom or a Dad, you are now the direct role model and first influence on your kids and the LAST thing I want to teach my girls is that television and magazines, and God help me, even those catty bitches in her kindergarten class are right.
So, the point of this post is that I really do think that parents should be giving themselves more 'Gold Star's' if they expect their children to be able to do the same. How can I expect lil A and her sister to be proud and make the right decisions because it will make them feel good, if we as parents won't give ourselves the same permission?
Stop comparing yourself to other parents, stop beating yourself up because you didn't provide 4 food groups at breakfast, stop worrying and fussing over every scheduled detail of your child's life because in the end, the only thing they WILL remember is the time you spent with them. Memories are not created from clean homes, gymnastics or play dates...they are built from time spent as a family having FUN!!
Good advice, right?
It's hard to follow, and even if you don't, I am of a strong belief that everyone's kids, no matter how you decide to parent them, will turn out JUST FINE!
Monday 19 March 2012
My Chariot Awaits!
We've purchased a double stroller.
We will have two children in less than 10 weeks.
Children. Plural. I will be outnumbered.
It's two of the best things that have ever happened to me. My children.
From seeing the pink line on the pee stick, gaining weight at an exponential rate, feeling the kicks, bumps and hiccups to entering the last weeks where I will inevitably complain daily, if not hourly about aches, ginormousness and sheer exhaustion.
I wouldn't trade a single day of it for anything. As difficult as it can be, I love growing babies.
My biggest problem is the growing part.
I have unfortunate genetics that cause my body to gain weight. Anytime. Any place. And given a reason, like, say pregnancy, my body REJOICES!!!
My scale and I are not friends but I am learning that my numbers are not as important as my health and the example I must now set for my children.
So, we bought a double chariot. When XX number two arrives, pending a natural delivery, I can return to running 4-6 weeks afterwards and hopefully begin (again!?) the process of returning my scale numbers to their rightful place.
I am really excited about this, although I haven't quite grasped the huge difference between pushing one child in a 20lb stoller vs. pushing two children in a 28lb stroller.
I may be running alone.
For now we are venturing out in the chariot for walks with vitamin A because it is her new favorite place in the whole world.
I hope she feels the same when there is another tiny person sitting beside her...
We will have two children in less than 10 weeks.
Children. Plural. I will be outnumbered.
It's two of the best things that have ever happened to me. My children.
From seeing the pink line on the pee stick, gaining weight at an exponential rate, feeling the kicks, bumps and hiccups to entering the last weeks where I will inevitably complain daily, if not hourly about aches, ginormousness and sheer exhaustion.
I wouldn't trade a single day of it for anything. As difficult as it can be, I love growing babies.
My biggest problem is the growing part.
I have unfortunate genetics that cause my body to gain weight. Anytime. Any place. And given a reason, like, say pregnancy, my body REJOICES!!!
My scale and I are not friends but I am learning that my numbers are not as important as my health and the example I must now set for my children.
So, we bought a double chariot. When XX number two arrives, pending a natural delivery, I can return to running 4-6 weeks afterwards and hopefully begin (again!?) the process of returning my scale numbers to their rightful place.
I am really excited about this, although I haven't quite grasped the huge difference between pushing one child in a 20lb stoller vs. pushing two children in a 28lb stroller.
I may be running alone.
For now we are venturing out in the chariot for walks with vitamin A because it is her new favorite place in the whole world.
I hope she feels the same when there is another tiny person sitting beside her...
Sunday 4 March 2012
Birthing: The Final Frontier
In t-12 weeks, give or take a few days (take, I hope) I am set to expel another baby.
Everyday women birth babes, and so you would think that this must not be a daunting task.
I assure you. It is.
Just because women are pushing out 7,8,9, my God, sometimes larger babies, does NOT mean that any individual experience is ordinary. There truly is nothing like bringing a life into the world. Unfortunately, the coming into the world part is the last stretch of an often long, painful and arduous process. Called, appropriately, labour.
This is already a fear of mine, which will be my greatest challenge in the coming weeks. Believing that my body was meant to give birth. Trusting that without medicine, and with a group of people who also believe in me, that I can endure the labour process.
Who the hell have I become.
I am not normally this kind of person. I take tylenol in expectation of a headache and have a medicine cabinet that could provide backup for Shoppers, if the need ever arose.
Truly, I do not like to be in pain and definitely do not see any problem using modern medicine to ease my ailing body. I do, however, have a belief that having a baby is not a condition to be treated with "pain management".
The more I learn about midwifery, the more I believe in a more natural way of birthing. Are hospitals necessary to have babies? Absolutely not. Why and how did we ever conclude that hospitals (full of germs, infections and diseases) would be the best place for women to give birth?
Medicating every pain (which, I also believe that the expectation that birth will hurt actually makes birth MORE painful for many women) is not the way a birth experience was meant to be.
And so, about 12 weeks from now I will likely blog about my birth experience.
If I end up in the hospital with an IV, an induction and an epidural, you may put your hands on your hips, lean forward and say, "I told you it couldn't be done."
But I hope that's not the case.
Lucina Centre - Birthing Centre and Midwifery Care
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