The Full Story

I figured it was time to find time and type out Kyle's birth story. It's been floating around in my head and I'm afraid it'll slowly start leaking out since my head has so many holes.

As I had posted, the plan was for me to give myself an enema on Wednesday morning. Well, I did, and it didn't work. Actually, it worked a little but the dealio is to wait as long as you possibly can before, well, releasing, and Ian ended up finding his way upstairs and came into the bathroom. I had no choice but to stand up and get him out of there and call Craig. That was the end of that.

Melissa arrived around 9:30 as planned and I was crying. I was feeling like I was under so much pressure. Pressure from myself, obviously, but everyone else too. Pooja was waiting for me to call saying I'd done the enema and was in labour, my parents were waiting for a call to start heading here from London, friends on various bulletin boards were waiting for word, Melissa had taken the day off work and arranged a series of different women to babysit her children while she laboured with me; and now my one shot at starting labour was gone. Melissa, ever the awesome friend, drove me to McDonalds for breakfast and then the pharmacy where we bought not one, but 2 more enemas. Great.

The second time around was a bit more successful than the first (especially since it was a double shot of pleasure :S) but there were still no contractions. By now it was nearing 11AM so Melissa and I left the boys with Craig and went for a long, brisk walk. My legs were shaking when we got home because they were so fatigued but I was getting contractions! Nothing I could really time or that had any predictability but we called Pooja on the way home and told her to head this way to get the real show on the road.

Janessa, the back-up midwife, arrived first and listened to the baby. I told her I was getting a few contractions and filled her in on what Pooja and I had planned for that day as far as breaking my water but admitted that I certainly wasn't in active labour. When Pooja arrived it was close to 1PM. She checked my dilation (5cm) and tried her very best to break my water with no success. She said she needed a contraction to make the water bulge so she could prick it with her little crochet hook (if you've never seen what is used to break a woman's water, it seriously looks like a crochet hook). I had been getting quite a few contractions while walking and then from climbing the stairs once we got home so off I went to see what I could do. Every 15 minutes Pooja would come and listen to baby and ask how I was doing, how the contractions were feeling, etc. After about 30 minutes I headed back upstairs and Pooja checked me again. This time I was 6cm and she was able to successfully break my water. She checked my dilation again and I had shot straight up to 8cm. All without any 'real' contractions, they were there, yes, but not one had really been all that uncomfortable. I was really hoping having the amniotic fluid pass over my cervix would shoot me into active labour and baby would be born before Shaun came home from school at 3:10.

Back to walking I went, with fancy mesh underwear and green absorbent pads to catch all the drips. Boy, were there drips. I completely feel for any woman whose water has broken before she was in active labour. It was a miserable feeling having a warm gush every time I moved or coughed. The contractions continued their irregularity, varying from 30 seconds long to a whole minute. Pooja and Janessa were getting excited at the longer contractions because it meant, hopefully, some more dilation. I was able to take a cool shower to clean off. That amniotic fluid, while organic, sure is gross.

Shaun returned home from school and was disappointed there was no baby but was more concerned with me walking around in my mesh underwear. I reassured Shaun that everything was well, promised him baby was coming TODAY, and he went back downstairs where Craig kept him entertained. I was straddling the toilet in an attempt to get baby to move position since the theory at this point was that baby may have his head turned a little not-so-perfectly. Pooja continued to check baby's heartbeat every 15 minutes and around 3:30 I asked to have my dilation checked. Still 8cm. Still nothing serious in the way of contractions.

By now I'm starting to feel concerned that my contractions aren't increasing in duration or strength at all. In fact, they almost seemed to be spreading apart in their frequency. I asked Pooja what would happen if I never actually entered active labour now that my water was broken. She said that usually it's recommended to head to hospital once 4 hours passes post membrane rupture if nothing seems to be happening but assured me the desision was up to me. I was really tired of all the walking and stair climbing and the lack of progress was disappointing. I talked with Craig and discussed our options with the midwives.

Craig and I agreed that it wasn't a good idea to stay at home waiting for something that could potentially not happen and end up with a baby in distress and an exhausted mother when it came time for pushing. Craig called his Dad who said he could come be with the boys around 4:30 and we started to make arrangements to head to the hospital. The thought behind our hospital visit was to hopefully get labour going simply from the movement in the van (sometimes the jostling helps baby move into a better position) and, worst case scenario get hooked up to a Pitocin drip for a short time. With me already at 8cm we knew the drip would be for a very short amount of time.

In the meantime, Janessa shared an inspiring birth story with me. One of her mothers was on her third baby, well dilated, they broke her water and same as me, she never got contractions. She walked and walked and walked only to tire herself out. In a last ditch effort to get things going, she hopped in the tub and the relaxation alone was enough to start her contracting and dilating. She was able to have a homebirth shortly after that.

I figured the tub wasn't a bad idea. It actually worked a little, and I was getting some pretty good contractions in there. I was shifting from one side to the other and trying to continue moving when a contraction would subside. But I was uncomfortable and felt like a whale in our tiny tub so I got out around 4:30 and asked Pooja to check me again. Still 8cm.

Discouraged and ready to get this whole thing over with I asked Craig to call my parents and find out how close they were to arriving. He had called an hour earlier and they weren't home. When Craig tried their cell phone they said they were about 20 minutes away so he called his parents and told them not to come and that we'd just wait for my parents to arrive. In the meantime, I realized I didn't have a bag packed for the hospital so Melissa and Craig worked together and packed a few things for me and baby.

The movement from getting out of the tub was bringing a few good contractions, and they were timeable: around every 10 minutes was a strong one with 1, sometimes 2 weak ones in between. I still had to concentrate through the weak ones but they weren't so terrible that I had to have silence. Pooja asked again if I wanted to go to the hospital. I didn't want any self-doubt on staying home when inevitibly the contractions petered out so I said we were going. Pooja arranged for Melissa and I to leave right away in Melissa's van since she had to head home to see her boys eventually, Craig would follow in our van and then Pooja in her car. Janessa was officially off duty. I felt terrible that she wasted her afternoon in the rocking chair waiting for my contractions to get going. I guess Pooja didn't trust my analysis of my contractions given my history and better safe than sorry, but I still felt bad.

I chatted quickly with my parents in between 2 strong contractions and we were out the door at 5:15. Rush hour traffic on the way to the hospital was brutal. It was one red light after another and the stop and go while having contractions was torture. Melissa and I joked in between that now was the time get stopped by a cop. We've always wanted to tell a cop, "I'm in labour! Bring us to the hospital!" About halfway there I was really beginning to question my decision to head to the hospital. I was getting strong contractions and they were about every 5 minutes apart, sometimes closer together.

Thankfully there were spaces right at the front of the hospital for short-term parking so Melissa parked there, we paused outside while I hung on a railing and breathed through a contraction and then went straight up the elevator to Labour and Delivery. I had another contraction in the elevator but there was another girl in there with us and I didn't want to be all dramatic so I just closed my eyes and wished it away. I was still expecting to be hooked up to Pitocin once we got to the room. How little I knew...

The hospital was expecting us, Pooja was waiting in the room already (how she beat us there when we left before her still puzzles me because we followed the same route!) and I walked right in and yanked my pants off. There was another midwife at the hospital who was already attending a birth who has a knack for turning babies that are in poor position and I was anxious for her to get her paws in there and get things going. I seriously kept expecting the contractions to stop any moment, like all this was a cruel joke.

Sky got her gloves on and waited for me to be ready... I never was. The contractions were on top of one another and I wasn't about to let her dig around while I was contracting so frequently. Sky chuckled with Pooja that it looked like she wasn't needed and left. Melissa left to move her van to a permanent parking space in the parking garage and Craig still hadn't arrived. I could sense Pooja was anxious because she was asking people if there was a guy looking for his wife and to send him to room 15.

I leaned on the side of the bed for half an hour or so and then shortly after 6PM I started feeling pressure during contractions. I knew I didn't have to poo, I'd already cleaned all that out earlier in the day, but I wasn't supposed to be in labour. Labour was stalled, remember? I layed down on my left side on the bed anyway because my legs were feeling like they were going to give out on me.

I thought back to my Natural Childbirth book I'd been reading and focused on what I knew the contractions were doing to my body. I imagined my baby moving down lower and lower and my cervix slowly dilating and stretching and thinning. I knew for all this to happen that I had to intensely relax. So I told myself that, over and over. "I just have to relax."

No sooner did I say that, my body took over and I pushed. Well, crap I thought, I think I just poo'd. There isn't supposed to be anything left! That's what the enema's for. Well, it wasn't poo. It was Kyle's head! I shouted to everyone, "HE'S COMING!!" and his head was born into my lovely mesh underwear. Melissa and Craig shot off the couch where they'd been quietly chatting together and all of a sudden Pooja's yanking on my underwear telling me not to push. I was thinking to myself, I didn't push! He just came out all by himself!!

Once Pooja got that sexy mesh underwear off she guided me through my only real push, which I didn't even really push for, it was more just my body taking over, and Kyle was born at 6:18PM. The lights in the room were dim just like I'd wanted them to be at home, and Craig and Melissa were happily recording and flashing the cameras from the end of the bed, just like I wanted if we were at home.

Nicole, who was the assistant midwife at the birth couldn't believe I'd just told myself to relax as I was pushing Kyle's head into my underwear. Pooja called me a superstar and reminded me that this must be how I labour: it's all saved for the last centimeter of dilation.

I escaped without any tears not even so much as a single hemorhoid. And for those of you who've had post-partum hemorhoids, they're pretty much as bad as pushing baby out without the happy ending. Pooja put me in the tub after about half an hour; once I'd delivered the placenta and had a chance to get to know Kyle a little. It was very strange walking to the tub being so much lighter than when I'd flopped on the bed an hour before. I was itching to head home at 7 o'clock but Pooja wanted me to pee before leaving, just to make sure my bladder wasn't traumatized from the ultra-fast birth. I chugged a huge cup of water and Pooja brought me some crackers and cheese and an oatmeal cookie. Once I finally was able to pee out a trickle at 8PM she gave me the all clear. Melissa had already left to relieve her babysitter, Craig went to grab the van (I'm ticked that we paid for a whole day of parking and only used it for 2 hours), Pooja fetched a wheelchair for me and we were off. She gave me a big hug outside before I climbed in the front seat of the van and reminded me she'd be visiting the house in the morning to check on me and Kyle.

I don't want to be definitive, but I think we're done having kids. I'm blessed to be able to get pregnant relatively easily, carry my babies to full-term (and post-term!), have very easy labours and even easier deliveries, but I also don't want to tax my body too much. This pregnancy was difficult on me at the end and it was hard trying to do the Mummy things I love to do with my boys while still listening to my body that I was overdoing things.

There comes a time when one has to start planning things for the future with a more set timeline than 'when the kids are bigger'. We want to do the whole Disney thing and stuff like that needs a date or you'll always keep putting it off.

*For now*, Disney will be experienced by the 5 of us when Kyle's 3.