Friday, October 12, 2007

One Year Ago Today (and tomorrow...)

It was a Thursday evening, shortly after 9. I was in my pajamas and on my way to bed, nine months pregnant and very tired. The Music Man was watching tv, likely baseball playoffs. I sat down with him for a couple of minutes until I felt a very strong urge to go to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet for a minute but nothing happened and the feeling passed. I sat back down in front of the tv. In a couple of minutes the urge hit again. This happened a couple of times before I realized that perhaps it was something other than the bizarre urge to poo. By the time we realized that I might be in labour it was feeling more like the way I expected contractions to feel, except not this strong and not this fast. By the end of the first half hour they were coming about every four minutes.


The Music Man phoned our doula and the hospital and they both said to wait a bit longer but if the contractions continued at that rate to go in right away. I was frantically busy doing the things that I was planning to do during the hours of labour at home. "It's your first baby," everyone said, "your labour will be long." I needed to pack food for the hospital (everything else was packed already.) I needed to shave my legs (in retrospect this was not a need, and I will skip this step next time if I have to.) There I was,in the tub, trying to shave my legs between contractions that were coming every three or four minutes. The Music Man chose some clothes for me to wear when I got out of the tub, and as soon as we could we were out the door.

By this time it was nearly 11 o'clock. It was very dark and very windy. The 15 minute drive to the hospital seemed very long and I had about five contractions on the way. When we got there we parked in the 15 minute loading zone and went inside to register. I was standing at the front desk trying to sign forms while having contractions. They asked me if I wanted a wheelchair, but I wanted to walk to the maternity ward. When we got upstairs we checked in at maternity. The first nurse we talked to asked when my labour had started. "Around 9:30, " I said. "This evening? And this is your first baby?" she asked, with a look that said, "What are you doing here? Go home, you've hours to go yet." They put me in an LDR room and told me to put on a gown, which I did with Music Man's help. Another nurse came in to strap the monitor to my belly. She was the nurse who had given us our tour of the ward during our prenatal classes. (I think her name was Corine)

After 1/2 hour Corine confirmed that my contractions were coming fast and strong. Another nurse came in to do a vaginal exam. She told us that I was 8 cm dilated but that it was a bum coming first. Corine checked and confirmed a breech presentation. Now we were facing a c-section. This was a possibility I wasn't entirely prepared for. We had a birth plan and a doula. We were prepared for birth and doing everything in our power to prevent any unnecessary interventions. According to my last appointment the baby was head down and ready to go. My doctor and the on-call obstetrician came in. My doctor confirmed breech, but the other doctor (a man) said, "No, that's a face." No one else agreed with him, but even if that had been the case they would've suggested a c-section. My doctor began to explain the procedure to me, stopping every minute or so to let me have a contraction. I was getting impatient and felt like saying "I can still listen while I'm having a contraction. Get on with it." Looking back, I am pretty sure that I was in transition at that time.

During all of my contractions The Music Man was amazing. He held my hand and sang me "Summertime" which was the song he sang to my belly before bed when I was pregnant. He got me through and I was able to breathe through my contractions, even when I was barely getting a break between them. I am confident that if I had been able to deliver vaginally we would have made it through labour with no medication.

They took me to the OR while the Music Man got his gown and mask on. The anesthesiologist was wonderful. He put me at ease as he prepared to give me the epidural. (He was the best doctor I dealt with through the whole thing.) The on-call obs. was the surgeon who performed the section. The Music Man was beside me holding my hand through the whole thing. I think he even watched a little bit. When they had the baby out they announced "It's a boy" and held him up for me to see. At which point I cried. (oh, and the women made "I told you so" faces at the surgeon when they saw that the baby was, in fact, breech.) Only they didn't hold him high enough, so the Music Man reached out to hold the curtain down for me to see. They started shouting "contamination" and threw an new sheet over where he had touched. It was hilarious, but I was able to see the baby. The Music Man went with the baby to the table to get weighed and wrapped up. They even left an extra bit of cord on for him to cut. When the baby was wrapped up the Music Man brought him over to me and I kissed his head. One of the nurses went to get a camera and took a picture of the three of us (which they printed and brought to us the next day.) Then the Music Man and the baby left and I had to get sewn back up. That seemed to take FOREVER.

When they were done they took me to recovery where the Music Man and Baby were waiting for me. Our doula was there too. She had moved all our stuff over from the LDR room and had gone to our car (still parked in the 15 min loading zone) to get our camera. She took pictures as we put the baby to my breast and he nursed for the first time.

Needless to say, it wasn't the birth that we had planned. In fact, our birth plan stayed in the car with our bags until after he was born. From the first contraction to his birth was just a little over four hours. It was a wonderful experience none the less. I am so thankful to The Music Man for his constant support and love. He sang me through, and I couldn't have done it without him.




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Monkey
Born 1:37 am
Friday the 13th of October, 2006

I love you.


Thursday, October 4, 2007

My Thanksgiving Post aka A feast for Your Eyes

(a picture of me counts as a feast right? right?)

In anticipation of Monkey's upcoming first birthday, I have been thinking a lot about what I was doing last year at this time. Last year on Thanksgiving weekend I was highly pregnant and eating lots of turkey and pie.

To me Thanksgiving has never felt like a particularly festive holiday. Day off, eat turkey. But not festive, so much. Until last year. It might have had something to do with pregnancy hormones, I don't know. My mom came to our house in the middle of the week to help me with some last minute pre-baby house cleaning. Then my dad and brother came out on the Saturday and we attended our local "Pumpkin Festival". Giant pumpkin weigh-offs, craft sale, exhibit hall (think "State Fair", ladies competing for best jams, baking, pickles. Much fun.) I even wore an orange maternity t-shirt with a jack-o-lantern face on it. Yup. My own wee pumpkin at the Pumpkin fest.

On Sunday, the Music Man's folks and a dear family friend joined us and we hosted an eight person Thanksgiving Dinner. It was wonderful. Warm, cozy, family, turkey. Festive.

This year, Thanksgiving will look a bit different. We will be traveling to my parents house with our almost-one-year-old. It will be crazy, and fun. There will be turkey and family. And hopefully the festive feeling of last year will carry over to this year, and years to come.


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(Think about all the comments you get on an ordinary day as a pregnant lady. Now imagine wearing a jack-o-lantern shirt to the Pumpkin Fest when you are nine months pregnant. Needless to say, it took some convincing to get me to wear the shirt in the first place...)

Happy Thanksgiving!


Monday, October 1, 2007

WBW - Canadian Edition

We Canadians like to be different (Thanksgiving in November? No. October for us, thanks.) In that spirit someone somewhere in Canada decided that we should celebrate World Breastfeeding Week in October instead of August. So....

Happy World Breastfeeding Week - Canadian Edition.
October 1 - 7, 2007


Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Avast, me hearties...




Firstly, I am posting this picture in an effort to have my profile picture not disappear (you may have noticed that I had one for about a day...)

Secondly, one of my music students is MOVING AWAY. I often think that I am not meant to be teaching lessons because this. always. happens. grrr.

Thirdly, it is international Talk Like a Pirate Day. So go ahead, talk like a pirate ye scurvy land lubber.

********

Brenda mentioned (and Bren agreed) that I should send my little "Bacon Bits" story to the Readers Digest. I have sent things to RD before, funnier things, and they didn't get published. But RD's loss is your gain, because I will share them with you now. (Both these stories are from the year that I worked at a day care)

A girl and a boy, both four years old, were playing with some plastic food in the toy kitchen. "Please pass the pasghetti," said the girl. The boy responded, "It's MA-sghetti!"

Another four year old boy was quietly singing to himself. "There was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o. B-I-M-B-O..."

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Pass the Bacon Bits

On Tuesday I taught my first music lessons in over a year - one piano and one voice lesson. One of the girls from church came to our place to watch Monkey while I taught. They had a great time together and I think he will look forward to her coming every week. I had a great time too. My voice was tired by the end of the hour (note to self: less talking, more music). But the best part was that I got paid for all the lessons in September (three weeks X two students = not very much $). It felt good to hold those cheques in my hand.

erin k : "Look, Monkey, Mama brought home a tiny little bit of bacon."
music man: "Bacon bits"

Yes, bacon bits. And that's okay.

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I got an email today informing me of an upcoming event to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the choir program at my high school. This is an event that I would actually be interested in going to if it weren't for my wee Monkey and the fact that it is on Thanksgiving weekend (I'm home to eat turkey, people. Don't mess with turkey time.) Choir was my life in high school. So, though I'm not likely to participate I may go to the alumni choir concert, just for fun.


Music man graduated high school one year before me (and 300 kms away). Both of our ten year reunions have come and gone. Except, they didn't come. Neither of us heard a peep about a reunion of any sort. This is not disappointing to me because I really really wanted to go. No, this is disappointing because if there is no reunion, there is nothing to not go to. I can't show how little I care about such things if there is nothing about which to say, "No, I don't think I'll go." In truth, this is actually what I said would happen all along. I can't see anyone from my graduating class caring enough to organize a reunion. Yup. We just don't care. And that's okay by me.


Friday, September 7, 2007

The World This Week

This week I was so pleased to read all the very positive comments regarding my poem. Thank you all very much.

However, this week I was also saddened by two great losses to the World of Art.


Luciano Pavarotti 1935-2007

and

Madeleine L'Engle 1918-2007

You can see some tributes to these great artists here and here.


Monday, September 3, 2007

untitled


As usual, I am slow on the draw. I originally heard about this challenge from Joy, but it was issued by Slouching Mom. A 26 word poem with each word starting with the next letter of the alphabet (ie. acrostic). And so, I present you with my attempt. It was written with a bit of input from Music Man after a discussion about Contemporary Worship Music on the way to the lake on Sunday morning (yes, when we should've been in church...).



A burgeoning contemporary denomination expresses feelings.

God.

Hallelujah.

"I just know, Lord, my needs openly provided."

Quality?
Relevance?

Satiated throngs undervaluing veracity.
Who xeroxed your zeal?