Birthstory
Dear Baby,
I am starting this tonight, a few weeks before your first birthday. I am feeling surprisingly sad tonight realizing how quickly you are growing! I just put you to bed in your own room for the first time and this is making me sentimental. It is bittersweet- tonight your dad and I have our room back for the first time since July 2, but it also means you are getting to be a big boy.
On the night you were almost born...
It was hot. The day had been about 30 degrees Celsius; the night wasn't much cooler despite all the fans blowing.
There were lights on everywhere in the house. We thought you were going to be born at home, but you had other plans.
There was a swimming pool in our dining room, but it was too hot and I didn't want to stay too long in the warm water.
Your dad was everywhere and always by my side at the same time. He was strong, yet scared. Me too.
Two days before you were born...
July 28th, at 7 pm, while lying in bed watching tv, my water broke. I panicked- did this mean I was in labour?
Your dad called Jane the midwife. She calmed us down. She said Relax, Sleep, it could be awhile before things started to happen.
We slept. At least I did, your dad said later he couldn't sleep much at all.
The day before you were born...
July 29th, around 730 am, Jane called to check on us. We discussed inducing, but I said no.
She said walk, drink some castor oil, start thinking of babies being born.
In the sweltering heat we took the dogs for a walk in Cowichan Bay. I waddled 2 kms, very uncomfortable. It was so bright my eyes hurt. It all felt very surreal knowing we would see you soon.
Mahone swam and swam in the water.
Later that day I drank the drink and it made me feel weird.
I mowed the lawn in the heat.
Still no sign of you.
We waited.
Around 4 pm you decided it was time to start arriving.
I watched more tv. Breathed through the pain. Started my hypnobirthing. We called the midwife. She came.
On the night you were almost born...
I listened. To hypnobirthing music. To midwives. To pain. To my strength.
I dealt with it. I kept going. I held on. I took breaks when I needed them. I resisted moving.
I walked down the driveway and back to shift you. So long. So painful. Each fence post a crutch through the surges. Your dad's hand.
Trying to be quiet in the dark.
Hoping for progress. None to be made. Using aaallllll my energy to make you budge. You didn't.
On the morning you were born,
Dawn, pale blue, pale gray, pale rose.
Driving through town. Not stopping at lights. Your dad controlled but fast. Jane right behind.
Hospital. Can't sit in the chair- who makes wheelchairs without padding????
Slowly walking to delivery ward. Stopping. Starting. Straining.
Arrive. Bed. First IV ever. It is ok.
Nurses, doctor, new faces.
Same old same old no progress only the same old same old
EPIDURAL.
Afraid of needles.
Scared.
But what could be worse? Pain is BLACK WALL. Harder to get through.
Tried to rip you from me, NOT RIGHT.
Kind man, anesthetist. Gentle. It is ok, needles. needles. needles.
What is this? Where is the pain?
I cry. Why? No pain. Black wall, black wall......... goooonnnnne.
Go ahead, get my baby!!!
Cheerful, happy, relieved.
Your dad? Happy, there again (disappeared for a bit while I was in my head). Woozy, seeing things I can't.
Fourth? time lucky, you are HERE. In my arms, slippery. Blonder. My boy, my boy, first glimpse. Dad it is our boy!
I love you I love you I love you
Mom
