7:30

i'm beginning to think our kitchen needs a little something. it lacks a certain pizazz. recently, a picture of our old kitchen came up on my screen saver. i loved that kitchen. it was old, but it had a certain quality that made it feel homey and have character. i'm trying to come up with some ideas to integrate those qualities into the kitchen at the exile. i'm toying with putting my postcards up again, but there's something about that that feels too maxipad and i think i need to come up with something different. hmmmm.

tomorrow we're going camping at bon echo. just for an overnight. i'm excited. we haven't been camping since 2011. i'm looking forward to being outdoors and sitting around the campfire. thankfully the weather is looking good and fairly warm too – a low of 18ºC.

there we were all in one place.

belize

recently, rachel had the privilege of shadowing mianh for a week in the life of a midwife. shanno and i were excited to hear about her experience so we planned to get together the three of us last night. shanno invited us over to her place. i'd planned to take éamon along with me, but it dawned on me that he'd just end up sitting in his chair upstairs and he could just as easily sit in his chair downstairs with b. i decided to just leave him at home, because b could call me if éam got hungry. i really enjoyed my time with the girls with undivided attention, and when i got home (back downstairs), he was as good as could be. b said he was fine all evening and was all swaddled tight, in a deep sleep ready for bed. i was really proud of him, and i'm looking forward to more evenings out on main street and beyond.

i've been reflecting on how it feels to discuss birth now that i've had a baby – especially since his birth didn't go the way i'd pictured. i'm still very excited about birth. it's a beautiful, amazing and mind-blowing event. the one thing that's changed is i feel more open-minded that i used to be. i think my beliefs about birth were much more narrow before. i knew that birth was unpredictable and couldn't be planned, but i had a subconscious belief that i was insusceptible to complications. so i feel humbled. to be fair, i had no reason to believe i would be high risk, but i was probably naive too.

i've also been thinking about the phrases "hospitable birth" and "home birth", and i want to re-frame them as "birth in a hospital" and "birth at home". if i'm honest with myself, i know that before my birth the term "hospital birth" was always a dirty word. for home birth advocates (i include myself in this), a "hospital birth" is the worse case scenario. since i've given birth in a hospital, i know it's not nearly as bad as i imaged, and the hospital staff were not my enemies. birth is birth wherever it takes place. it can be good or bad wherever it takes place. and i'm going to be intentional to not use labels, especially labels that can diminish or undermine. i would challenge anyone who might trivialize my experience or imply that it was sub-par because it took place in a hospital. not that anyone has, but i believe that pre-baby lesley probably would have without meaning to. so out of courtesy and out of respect for birth, i want to take this new, more inclusive approach.

moss grows fat on a rollin' stone,
but that's not how it used to be.

up/out

yesterday i was creeping a facebook friend's profile. he's a guy i grew up with, the younger brother if a elementary school friend – we used to play together the three of us. i was telling brendan about him, that he's funny and an opera singer and gay. i called b over to look at this funny cover photo he had of him sitting with an old lady on a couch as he helped her with her computer (it was funnier than it sounds). and b said "aw, look at you, all smitten over a gay guy. who would've thunk? you think you know someone..." :p i really do have a weakness for gay men.

helter skelter in a summer swelter.

snore

today is my niece's second birthday. i spent the day crocheting a blanket for her new doll, wilhelm. it turned out pretty good. i liked that as soon as she opened the present she wrapped him in it :)

one thing i was unsure about, since i've never been in this position before is whether or not to include éamon's name on the card. because it wasn't from him, he's not big enough to understand gifts or cards or signatures or birthdays or even who audrey is yet. so it feels weird. the gift was from me and b. we spent time brainstorming and gifts shopping and crocheting. in my family, my nieces and nephews buy us christmas gifts that they pick out – those gifts really are from THEM. i think i'll wait until éamon is bigger and actually knows people before gift-giving with him. i'm too practical for cute things like that.

yesterday we had our prenatal class reunion. it was fun. i was kind of dreading it because these aren't people we really got to know in a personal way, but it turned out to be a fun time and we did end up chatting outside the baby circle into people's jobs and where they're from originally. surprisingly, at least half the women's births began with their water breaking, and all of them eventually had to be induced. one girl dilated to 9 cm on her own, then digressed to 6 cm, at which time they chose to induce her. i've never heard of that before! anyways, it sounds like the group wants to keep in touch and we're talking about having another reunion in october.

earlier this week i was thinking about chopping my hair to my shoulders, BUT i think i've come up with an alternative solution. i'm just going to put my hair in two braids each day instead. it keeps it back out of my face, it doesn't get in the way when bending over, the baby doesn't grab at it, and if he does, it doesn't hurt. awesome! b said an added bonus is that i look more like the girl from little house on the prairie :S

did you write the book of love?

percolating

when looking ahead to this summer, knowing i wouldn't have to go to work or wear work clothes, i planned to go the whole summer barefoot. it's now almost labour day and i can't remember when i wore socks last, and almost exclusively wear flip-flops.

as a result, my feet have gotten very rough. i like this, it feels like a great accomplishment and will only serve to aid me in my attempt to be barefoot.

i remember being a kid and seeing my mom's rough feet. my were still all soft and pink, and i decided at the time that i never wanted my feet to be rough like that. i'm usually someone who likes to indulge my childhood desires because i want my younger self to be proud of my current self. but in this case, i think i under-estimated the benefits. a number of years ago i got a pedicure before going to mexico, and i couldn't walk anywhere barefoot because even the slightest uneven surfaces hurt my feet. i decided i'd never get a pedicure ever again.

all this to say, i consider my summer a success.

one more moondance with you in the moonlight.

spurt

today i did something i never thought i'd do.
well, to be honest, it didn't occur to me that this kind of action becomes necessary.

while walking home from an outing to downtown, i had to stop on a grassy spot just off the sidewalk on a busy kingston street to breastfeed my baby. i found it both funny and awkward. i'm sure i'll never look at that spot beside the laundromat the same ever again.

looking to the fall i'm starting to wonder if i'm going to end up being over-scheduled – which is my least favourite thing. since i have a lot of spare time, when activities come up i think "oh, i can do that" (swimming lessons, roots of empathy, volunteering at the food bank, weekly visits, etc, etc). so far i'm loving having the freedom to walk down to tara foods on a week day. i hope i preserve enough time in my week for spontaneity that when my year is over that i can look back and really feel like it was a year of freedom.

today i had lunch at the golden rooster. i just sat eating my sandwich with éamon strapped on my front surrounded by old folks. who knew so many seniors had late lunches!

someone's gonna paint you another sky.

knee-jerk

it probably goes without saying that i'm not a fan of unsolicited advise, because who really is? i like to tread carefully to not be pushy with others in general. but every once and a while, i discover something that is so great that i want for everyone to know about it, so they have the opportunity to consider/try it themselves – like diva cups and other things (that have currently slipped my mind).

my latest awesome discovery is placenta encapsulation.

what? you ask?

placenta encapsulation.

i suppose this only really relates to pregnant women, but i want to make sure i spread the word as much as possible. so by telling you folks about it, you might pass this message on to someone else to consider.

if this is the first time you've heard about it, you're probably a little grossed out. "WHAT!?!?!?" you're thinking "eat your PLACENTA??" not quite. encapsulate it, like a vitamin.

i've heard about people eating their placentas for years; provocative people bbq-ing it and enjoying the reaction it gets from others. the reality is, that placentas really do provide custom nutrients and benefits, but not all of us like to be shocking and outrageous. i consider myself the latter, so didn't think a lot about it. but while i was pregnant i started hearing more about placenta encapsulation, especially from people i consider "normal" (not "hippies", not extremists – just regular, ordinary citizens). and i started to think "if that person did it, maybe it's more legitimate than i thought" and started looking into it. this is what i discovered:

it is believed that consuming the placenta can:
• help to balance your hormones / reduces postpartum depression
• replenish depleted iron levels
• assist the uterus to return to its pre-pregnancy state
• reduce post-natal bleeding
• increase milk production
• make for a happier, more enjoyable post-natal period
• increase your energy levels

• reduces post-natal hair loss

being a person who has struggled with very difficult bouts of PMS, i've always considered myself someone at risk of major postpartum depression. brendan, being the partner of someone who has episodes of extreme PMS, was also keenly aware of how bad things could get. so when we learned that this was an option that could reduce postpartum depression, we quickly decided it was worth a shot. we had nothing to lose and a lot to gain. transitioning into parenting can be difficult enough without throwing in a hormonal hurricane into the mix.

so i started looking for someone local who provides the service and contacted someone in belleville. oddly enough between the time i first contacted her and the time i followed up with my due date and other info, the woman had had a major change in circumstances (moving) and was no longer able to provide the service. this was disappointing since i was pretty confident that we wanted to exercise this option. she offered to teach me, but i knew that i would not have the time or ability to encapsulate my own placenta after giving birth. after watching a few videos online, i asked shannon as one of my two doulas if she'd be willing to give it a try. b and i weren't sure if she'd want to do it since she's a vegetarian and doesn't like touching meat, but we rationalized that nothing died to produce this bit of flesh, so perhaps she might be willing. she took some time to consider it and do some research of her own, chatted with rach, then announced that she'd do it! in fact, they'd team up.

on the first day of my labour, shannon arrived at the hospital with cooler in hand to take home the precious specimen. she asked my nurse if there was any kind of protocol for taking it, and was told that we'd have to sign something (but in the end we didn't, they just gave it to her).

while i was recovering at KGH, shanno and rach were at work lovingly cleaning, cooking, dehydrating, grinding and encapsulating my placenta, and arrived back at the hospital with over 150 little vitamins made specially for me. the process involved boiling it with lemon and ginger, and as a result the little pills smelled amazing!

for the first two weeks i had two 3 times a day, and since then i've been taking two once a day. my first five weeks of being a parent has been amazing and positive. i avoided ANY emotional or hormonal crying fits (or any fits at all). i've had energy. my body has healed fast. my baby has been breast-feeding like a champ. i've been very happy, fully enjoying this new chapter of my life. and while i'm sure prayer has been a big factor in this, i also believe my placenta pills have been a major answer to prayer. the day i switched from six a day to two a day, i noticed a significant difference and it was definitely my most challenging day as a mother – more taxing.

and so... if you are a woman who may have a baby in the future...
or you know someone who may have a baby...

please tell them "i know this girl who encapsulated her placenta and just swears by it".

it's really not gross. it's from my own body. just like my baby is. sure, i'm not eating him, but i kiss him and think he's great. my placenta is great too, in a different way. the fact that we find it gross at first is just cultural. we're not used to it. it's no more weird than eating beef or pork.

i really could not speak more highly of this option. and while i think it's legitimate for people to opt out, i really think it's important for everyone to know about it so they don't miss out if they would've benefited from it. so please help me spread the word! :D

give thanks and praise to the lord and i will feel all right.

mosquito bites

you know what's weird?

breast pads.

not that they exist, but that i had no idea that they existed. i'd heard of them, but now that i use them, i'm shocked to discover that there's a whole industry of breast pads out there with different brands and styles. they're similar to menstrual pads in variety and target audience. i'm just amused and surprised that something of this sort existed and i was oblivious.

i'm not a very skilled out-loud reader. it makes me uncomfortable and i tend to throw in extra words because it seems i find it easier just guessing at what i'm reading rather than simply reading it. a few days ago, a lady at the health unit was encouraging us to read to éamon. she gave us a book or two. they're very short and i find them a little pointless. so i've started just reading my own book to him out-loud. the added bonus to this is that i pay attention better to the plot and it takes my mind off other things. i'm hoping that with practice, i'll improve. i find it quite poor that i've reached adulthood without mastering this skill. but i suppose people avoid the things they're not good at.

this afternoon i was quite upset with brendan's employees. he keeps having to cover their shifts at work because for one reason or another they don't show up. i spent a portion of the afternoon crafting a speech to them – imagining what i'd say if they were my employees. i was especially mad because there were things i needed to do around the house and needed b's help with because i'm not able to tend to a baby at the same time. eventually i started reading my book instead, it helped pre-occupy me. sometimes i think people don't know the difference between "can't" and "choosing not to".

just like children sleepin'
we could dream this night away.

midsummer

there was a security breech on my debit card and i had to change my pin number. i've had the same pin since i was 11 or 12 years old. i get attached to things like that. or maybe it's just hard for me to break a habit, worrying that i'll revert back to my old number.

things around the exile are good. while we don't have a routine, we have a pretty consistent rhythm. the days come and go within that natural rhythm, and i find that this new pace of life suits me just fine. the only challenge i have right now is switching the clothes in my drawers and closet back to my regular clothes. i just don't seem to have time for that, and so the boxes of clothes keep piling up.

since everything else is going so well, i feel oddly scrutinized. occasionally i'll come across someone who asks probing questions as though trying to find our achilles heel. everything is going well, we have our rough spots, but they are few and far between. even so, i kind of feel that i have to hide our rough spots so that inquiring people won't grab on to them like a dog with a bone and make a much bigger deal about them. it makes me feel defensive or protective. maybe it's because its all about perspective, and i don't want someone else getting in my head and messing with my perspective.

i'm ridding all your stories.

come by

the last few days have been filled with two main special activities.

1) the sheep dog trials

i don't know much about sheep dogging, and what i know is from the movie babe. but whenever i hear of the sheep dog trials in kingston, i always want to go, but unfortunately it always falls on the same day as the wolfe island music festival. but this year i discovered that they have events on the friday as well, so i wanted to take advantage of my unemployed state and go! i wasn't sure how éam and i was going to get there since i still can't drive and he needs to go in his carseat (with is firmly fixed in our car), but thankfully brendan got the afternoon off from work so we were all free to go. it was really fun. i would have to say that sheep dog trials are a new favourite sport of mine – partly because it seems more like an art form than a sport.

2) wolfe island music festival

even though three of the performers we were most keen to see were scheduled to play on the friday night (simultaneously at different venues), we still wanted to go. we wanted to take our tiny sidekick to the festival this year. i'd seen it done before and knew we could do it. the weather was perfect and we had a nice time with beckie, matt and ben (who was the MC). éamon did remarkably well, we were really proud of him. he was the youngest person there, but was in good company with lots of babies, toddlers and kids. in fact, this year seemed to have the greatest mix of diversity with lots of older people and not just students. while the music was alright, there was no clear stand-out that blew us away.

i'm pretty sure my family is using the word 'epic' out of context.

singing ha, ah la la la de day.

reunion

it's become apparent that i need to learn some assertiveness fast. it's not that i'm not assertive at all, but i'm really mostly just assertive with strangers. with friends, family and acquaintances, it's hard for me to express my desires and preferences because i want to be considerate of their preferences too. the problem is, that when it comes to my éamon, i can't let myself cave so easily. i find it pretty stressful when he starts crying while someone else is holding him. i don't mind if it lasts for a couple minutes, but when it last longer than five minutes and he's clearly not settling, it's hard for me to sit there watching and not step in. i find with other mothers especially, they're not alarmed by him fussing and enjoy him anyways. but i'd rather they just pass him back to me or brendan to soothe. basically, i need to find a polite way of asking for my baby back. when i let other people make decisions for him, i feel overlooked as his mom and then i get upset and start to shut down socially. what it comes down to is whether or not i feel empowered in my role as mama bear. i can't let other people make me feel insignificant because this is a special time in my life as i establish myself in this new identity.

life is full of unexpected learning curves.

to lead a better life I need my love to be here.

somersault

we drove past our old house on york street yesterday. our old landlord sold it within the last year, and my dad told me that the new owners had started major work on it. i told him "good, it needed serious work". our neighbours were interested in buying it, but i'd advised her against it since it was in need of serious repairs. that said, we were still surprised when we drove past it yesterday to see that it had been completely gutted and all that remained was the wood frame. it was kind of bittersweet. sweet because i feel that house deserves some TLC, but bitter that the home we knew and loved is gone, we can never return there again to see the secret spot in the closest where i'd written our names and the date. my maxi pad is no more.

shine until tomorrow,
let it be.

barber

spending my days with a newborn baby is both predictable and unpredictable. while each day is similar to the last, éamon mixes things up from time to time. he's a really pleasant baby, so when on the odd occasion he's having a rough day, i'm a little thrown off. yesterday afternoon he wouldn't sleep, and instead just cried and cried. he did eventually settle, but it was early evening by then, and long past the window of opportunity for me to have a short nap. when these hard moments come up, i really try to focus on the fact that i love him. when i tell him "i love you" i find that it makes me feel more loving and reduces any frustration i'm feeling. words really inform my feelings and attitudes, and it's within my ability to control my response to him. he's just a little baby, and we're both still figuring things out. this afternoon, we were jammin' with bob marley. éam really seemed to like my singing :) i should've tried that yesterday.

brendan is a real wiz at settling him and rocking him to sleep. i'm really proud of him for mastering that. i'm also very thankful that one of us has that skill. sometimes it feels like breastfeeding is my solution for everything. b's a good dad.

i think i'll head to bed now. as much as i'd like to do other things around the house while i have some free time, i know that sleeping is good use of my time as well.

true love that now exist is the love i can't resist.

leak

éamon and i went for a walk to wallack's today. i wanted to see if they had any of those hand print moulds. they do, but i think i'll take a look at a few other stores, i wasn't 100% on the kind they had. anyways, after that errand, i wasn't quite ready to come home again, so i walked further down princess, and on the way back stopped in skeleton park. i sat on a bench while éamon slept peacefully. i just sat. after a while, i was struck by the realization that for perhaps the first time in my life (or at least the first time in my adult-life) i felt fully present. my mind seemed almost empty compared to normal. i just sat there peacefully without feeling rushed or being pre-occupied with plans, places or people. it was nice. i kind of hope this will become normal for me.

this afternoon i rearranged the couch in the den. i don't think brendan will like it, i'm not sure if i like it myself. it's got me thinking though about REALLY changing things up in here. not just moving the couch. it's an exciting thought, i find it very satisfying to improve the use of space in a room, and the den is probably the only room i didn't modify in preparation for having a baby.

i've read before that you can use a walnut to repair scratches in wood (floors or furniture). i just gave it a try and it worked perfectly! i bet b won't even notice the scratch, which is good because he's a bit anal about scratches on the floor. is there a nicer word for that than "anal"? i just mean that he's a little obsessed :p

we live our life for the ride.

ducks

éamon is two weeks old today and weighing in at 8lbs 7 oz. he's gaining fast and getting pretty chubby. he's one content little guy.

one of the things that i've been noticing about other parents, now that i'm a parent myself, is that many folks (not all) seem to be under the impression that everyone else's parenting experience is or will be the same as theirs – for example, if their baby is a light sleeper, they assume my baby is a light sleeper. as a result, i'm hearing about all sorts of different stories that contradict each other. and more specifically, i'm hearing all sorts of advise/sympathy for scenarios that i don't find myself in. it makes sense really, because every baby is different (even from siblings) and every parent is different (even from baby to baby). i guess i'm just surprised that some folks are under the impression that what worked or didn't work for them would automatically be the case for us as well. thankfully, parenting (just like life in general) is full of different possibilities, which i like.

yesterday b, éamon and i took a road trip to westport for the afternoon. we walked around, got ice cream, sat in the park, window shopped, bought some fudge, then headed home. it was a really nice day for a drive, and éamon did so well in the car.

so far our transition from being a childless couple into being a trio has gone really smoothly. we feel like éamon has fit into our life together perfectly. someone commented to us the other day "life around your house must have really changed", and we were surprised to realize that we can't think of one single thing that is different than before. it's nice! we do have a really easy going baby, so i'm sure that's really helped.

and it calms me down.

éamon's birth – part four (after thoughts)

it's been eleven days since éamon was born and i've had a lot of time to reflect on the experience. that said, i don't think i needed a lot of time to reach the point i'm at now. almost right away, i felt i'd come to terms with his caesarean birth. perhaps it's because i'd shed some tears beforehand, or maybe it's because after we had our boy, or maybe it's just that being upset about it afterwards wouldn't change anything. but i'm really ok with how things unfolded. sure, it wasn't how i'd envisioned it, and it wasn't my choice, but it is what it is. i'm not going to feel sorry for myself, or alienate myself from other women who had a different experience than me. i feel that my birthing experience is just as legitimate.

the truth of the matter is that i've always felt that birth is an experience and i didn't want to miss out on that, and i REALLY didn't. if anything, i experienced MORE than i'd bargained for. it's not like i arrived at the hospital and asked to be cut open. i went through the WHOLE process, minus the very last stretch. considering the circumstances, i wouldn't change anything i did or any of my choices. i'm happy with how things went.

i also really feel that birthing is an important part of preparing a woman to be a mother. i wanted my birth experience to be empowering and strengthening so that i could confidently rise to the chance of parenting. again, i feel that my experience did that, and adequately prepared me (or prepared me as much as i expected it to).

the funny thing about a c-section is that people are under the impression that it's easier than a vaginal birth. and while i suppose the process is, the healing afterwards is not. i'm on several different pain-killers, can't drive my car for six weeks, and can only take short walks. it's a slow process and not ideal. on friday, i went to shoppers to do some errands and people were cooing over éamon. they asked how old he was, and i proudly said 8 days! they were surprised that i was out and about, so i told them "and i had a c-section", and the one lady said "oh, well i suppose that's easier", clearly not understanding that it was rather remarkable that i was on the mend so soon (for which i'm very thankful for by the way). but whatever :S

after the surgery, i didn't want to look at my incision. i think mico and alyssa were a little concerned that i was avoiding it, but i just didn't want to see it when i still had staples in. in talking with nancy, she commented that it will only look better with time, so it made sense to me to wait and not look at it while it was still unsightly. now that the staples are out (there were 12 in total), my 6" incision doesn't look so bad. at first i was sad about the idea of this scar on my body as a reminder of how things didn't go as planned, but i've since changed my mind. instead of seeing it as a scar, i think of it as a souvenir from éamon's birth. i'm physically marked by that experience just as it marks my spirit.

i have this theory. i've read and heard a lot about oxytocin being a bonding agent. it's my understanding that it's not released with a c-section or when an epidural is used. and yet i feel very bonded to my éamon. all i can think is that because i was pumped full of oxytocin when i was induced that bonding with him has been an unexpected perk.

the doctors were never able to determine why i wasn't able to push him out. i pushed for a long time, and my pushes were strong. he was a regular sized baby and he was facing the right position. they've told me that my pelvis is too small, but it seems that's the excuse they give when they don't have a concrete answer. but mico said that usually when a pelvis is too small, the baby's head is all warped and moulded from trying to fit through. éamon's head was perfectly round. for some reason his head just didn't mould to fit. they've given me a 50% chance of having a vaginal birth next time, but i'm optimistic. i'm pretty sure that on another day, under different circumstances i could've pushed him out. besides, annette told me that he's paved the way for his future sibling, even though he didn't make it all the way out.

brendan was reading an article in the new yorker last week about the history of medicine – specifically surgery. while overhearing him discuss it with nancy, it dawned on me that in a different place and time, had i not been able to push out my baby, he would've died, and i could've died too. today, with the very high caesarean birth rates, i'd taken for granted what a valuable procedure it is when truly necessary. so i really see no reason to be anything other than grateful.

éamon's birth – part three

immediately after the last attempt with the forceps, i was being wheeled off to the OR. things were happening fast. there were a LOT of people in the room (i'd guess about 15, but i don't know for sure). i was quickly given a small plastic jar of sour liquid and told to drink it. i'm not exactly sure what it was, i think it was supposed to kill any bacteria in my body, but whatever it was, i was asked about 3 times afterwards if i'd been given the sour drink, so it must have been important.

brendan was brought along behind me to get changed into some scrubs and as my hopes faded of pushing out my baby i became quite emotional. i tried my best to keep it together, i didn't want the hospital staff to see my cry, but i was overcome. at the time i just thought i was overwhelmed by what was happening, but in hindsight, i was feeling "it wasn't supposed to happen this way!". i was sad, i was kind of horrified, i was frustrated, i was tired, i was scared. i'd heard from a few people that during a c-section it feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest, and i was dreading the feeling of suffocation.

i kept asking for brendan. "where's brendan, where's brendan?" i wanted him with me. i needed to see his face, to hear his voice, to feel his reassuring touch. but each time i asked they'd tell me "he's just outside getting his scrubs on. he'll join you when we're ready".

mico and alyssa were allowed to come in with me. and they brought a calming and familiar presence. mico sat near my head and told me "you can know that you tried everything. you can look back on this and not wonder 'what if i'd tried the foreceps?' you did everything you could". it was nice having that reassurance. especially since she's a midwife and clearly believed we were all out of options.

the hospital staff were trying to up my epidural, which at that point had been starting to wear off. they had this ice pack and would touch it against my skin to gauge my sense of feeling. "is it cold here? is it still cold? how about here?" and everywhere they placed it, i could still feel the cold. now, it's worth mentioning that they'd already upped my epidural before the forceps. at this point, it was at it's max. the doctors then tried pricking me to see if i could feel it.

"can you feel this? you should still feel pressure, but you shouldn't feel any pain".

"yes" i said "i can feel that". 

"you can feel that, or does it hurt?"

"i can feel it, it hurts. it's a pin prick and it hurts".

at this point i was having horrible thoughts of them cutting in to me and me being able to feel the entire thing. they tried adjusting the epidural, then tried the ice and pin prick again, but there was no difference.

with that, they decided that they'd have to put me under. i started crying again. i laid there with my arms stretched out like i was being crucified.

things just kept going from bad to worse. because they were having to use a general anesthetic, brendan wouldn't be permitted in the room. mico joined me again and encouraged me to stop crying. she asked me "do you want me to take pictures?" my first thought was "no, i don't want to remember THIS", but she very firmly stated "brendan won't be able to be here, and you're going to be out. this will be your only chance. i can take pictures and you can delete them if you want." so i gave her my permission.

for some reason, they decided to give me some pure oxygen, holding a mask over my face. i remember quite distinctly that there was a student/resident anesthesiologist holding the oxygen mask, and the weight of his hand was blocking off the air and i couldn't breathe. i tried telling him that he needed to move his hand, but he didn't understand what i was saying.

before getting started, the 15 odd people in the room all went around the circle and introduced themselves to me by their first name and what their role was. i felt that was a really classy move. it made the room full of strangers feel more like a friendly team who were on my side.

soon they started administering the gas that would put me under (i don't actually know what that's called). i remember feeling relieved that at least i wouldn't have to endure the panicky feeling of an elephant sitting on my chest. another upside, was that at least THIS was guaranteed to get my baby out – he would soon be here.

the next thing i knew, i was waking up and brendan was pacing beside me with a bundle in his arms wrapped in a hospital receiving blanket. he was pumped. i remember feeling confused, why was brendan in the operating room? i remember my eyelids were so heavy, and even though i really wanted to see my baby, i was so tired and just wanted to sleep. it turns out i wasn't in the OR, and i was on a gurney rather than the narrow operating table.

i tried looking at him, but the room was so bright and my eyelids were so heavy. someone, probably alyssa, laid him down beside me, and he started breastfeeding. he did very well, he latched on like a pro.

afterwards, someone placed him on my chest and i held him for a long time. i remember finding it strange that i still hadn't had a good look at his face even though we'd been together for at least a half hour. by this time it was around 5ish(?). he was born at 2:36, and my entire family, plus rach and shannon had been waiting in the waiting room. i felt badly for taking so long, so i suggested that brendan got at least the girls so they could see him before going home. they'd been up for so long and were very tired.

slowly i became more awake, and got a close look at his little face. i knew it was him. even though i was asleep when he was born, i could feel that this was my baby.

annette came in and got me cleaned up and dressed me in a gown. i didn't mind the gown at that point, it was easier than trying to put on a shirt. a porter arrived and with éamon in my arms we started heading to our room on connell 3. i was excited for our parents to meet him, i was excited to tell them all about my experience.

éamon's birth – part two

it was around 2:30 that my epidural was fully installed, and the girls were permitted back in the room. now that the pain had dimmed, we all tried to catch some z's. shannon was quite impressive since she was out like a light in what appeared to be an uncomfortable position. rach and b had a harder time sleeping, and i mostly just laid with my eyes closed, but it was still restful. my mind was racing, so i think i did quite well under the circumstances. at 4:30, bridget came in to check my cervix again and found that i was 6 cm. around this time, laurie got even more concerned about the baby's heart-rate, so they decided to do one of those scalp fetal monitors. i have to admit, there was part of me that wished i'd listened better to that part of prenatal class. since i believed i'd be having a homebirth, i didn't really pay attention. as bridget connected the fetal monitor, she found that i'd dilated another centimetre, in only 15 minutes!

by 8:30 i was fully dilated and we were starting to get geared up for pushing. brendan was notifying family and friends via email and telephone. a new day nurse was on duty and i was feeling quite sleepy (not just tired) so i was encouraged to take an hour nap and slept quite well. when 9:30 rolled around we were all in high spirits and annette (our day nurse) said i'd probably have my baby by noon.

there are a few advantages to birthing in a hospital, and the one thing i was most excited about was being able to use the squatting bar. so when things got going, i was all positioned, squatting at the end of the bed. it was tricky at first – pushing. trying to figure out how to push and how to breathe. i was told to take a deep breath and push for ten seconds, then repeat another two times. soon it became brendan's job to count to ten, a task he did very well except once he accidentally sped up (8, 9, 10), and another time he forgot to count completely. it was a good role for him, something he could do with confidence. between pushes everyone was very encouraging, which was very helpful since i didn't feel like i was making any progress. soon the nurse suggested another position using the squatting bar. she said we'd change positions every so often until we found the position that worked best for me. i was pleasantly surprised by this since i didn't think hospitals were open to different positions (i was actually very surprised they had a squatting bar). shannon and rach were on either side of me, holding my legs, or helping position my legs. annette suggested we try a series for 4 six-second pushes, with the last one me holding on for as long as i could. i like this much better than the 3 ten-second breaths/pushes. gradually my lungs got stronger and i could hold+push for much longer periods of time. eventually i was told that his head was starting to appear and he had lots of black hair – just as i'd been expecting! mico brought a mirror so i could see my own progress. i can't tell if it was a help or a hindrance. in some ways it was very motivating, but in other ways it was discouraging because i continued just seeing a small part of his head and the opening wasn't getting any larger.

on at least three different occasions, three different doctors were brought in to consult on what position he was facing. i kept telling them that he was back up and on my right side, but they said he could change position. they even did a quick ultrasound to confirm this. they thought if he was posterior that might explain the slow progress. it turns out i was right, he was in the right position – face down.

as each hour past, i was told "just one more hour" and then another later i'd be told that again. time was going by quickly, and for the most part, my strength remained the same. i remember getting really hot though and sleepy. brendan and shannon would take turns bringing me a cold cloth for my face between contractions. eventually i'd just lie there between contractions with a wet cloth covering my face, except for my nose and mouth. it also became more and more challenging to keep my eyes open.

at some point in the morning, maybe around 11:30, the phone rang and it was my dad. brendan politely told him "we're still in the middle of things, we'll call you later". it turns out that all our parents were thinking "something should've happened by now".

after many hours of pushing, my voice had gone all raspy. i don't know when or why exactly, but i assume it was from the strain of pushing. it was mico who first pointed it out, so i guess that's not a common occurrence. it still hasn't returned to normal.

probably around the third hour, annette started casually mentioning some birthing assistance – forceps and/or the vacuum. she explained to me that with either tool, they simply assist and it would still require me to push the baby out. so to ensure those remained an option, i had to make sure i always kept three more pushes. she didn't want me running out of steam before that intervention. i understood what she was saying, and i felt i had a good sense of where i was at with my energy level, so i assured her that i would save at least three pushes.

i don't know if the hospital staff and midwives suspected something was wrong, if they did, they didn't really let on. thinking back, the tone of room had a hint of mystery in it. no one seemed to know why it was taking so long, or why, in spite of my strong pushes, i was making so little progress. he was stuck. just rocking back and forth on a wave, never making his way to shore. everyone was saying "he's a stubborn little guy" and i'd say "well, i'm stubborn too" and keep pushing.

the doctors were invited in for a consultation, and they confirmed that i had progressed past the invisible line that made forceps or the vacuum an option. i'd say an hour passed before i concluded my energy level was waning and decided that i'd be ok with him being born with forceps. by this time it was around noon and it was becoming clear that i was looking at another two hours of pushing. two hours i didn't have in me. i was surprised that they'd let me go on so long, because i'd heard they didn't like women to push past a certain number of hours. i think it was because they really believed i was making progress (even though it was slow) and was going to eventually push him out. it was really more a question of what i had left in me.

someone went to get the crew of doctors again, and the NIC unit team arrived. the NIC unit had to be there because of the meconium. once he came out, if he didn't cry they would have to suction him to clear his airways of meconium. this is the reason why a homebirth was not possible. i was told by mico that the doctors/residents would access the baby's position, then decide which tool to use – the forceps or the vacuum. they would then have to check to see if what they selected could be fitted onto his head. then we'd get two shots. i'd have to give it all i've got. if it wasn't successful the only other option would be a c-section.

so the doctors picked forceps, which i was glad about. for some reason i felt more comfortable with foreceps. the resident, paul (who seemed like a really down to earth guy, with tattoos and a friendly demeanor. he's someone i could see us having beers with) went over all the risks and procedure stuff. i can't fully remember, but i either had my eyes closed or i had a damp cloth over my face. i'm surprised he didn't make me open my eyes and look at him, but i think he understood i was just too tired. thankfully, they were successful at getting the forceps into position and it was then time to push. i pushed the hardest i could. i really believed i could do it. the next step (c-section) didn't even register as a possibility in my mind. i was simply going to push him out.

but he didn't budge.

éamon's birth – part one

on the morning of joelle's 10th birthday, my water broke. i laid in bed at 7:35 in a half-sleeping, half-waking state and felt it happen. at first i thought it was my mucus plug, because there wasn't a lot initially. i quickly made my way to the toilet and found it just kept coming and coming. i was confused though – what colour was it supposed to be?!?! this fluid was greeny grayish brown. as the endless stream of water kept coming, brendan started making phone calls. first to rach, to ask about the colour (in hindsight, i think we knew what it was, but didn't want it to be so) and she recommended we call our midwives. alyssa, our student midwife, was reluctant to diagnose it as meconium until she saw us, and made arrangements for us to come to the clinic for an appointment at 9:30.

by this time it was 8, which gave brendan time to do some work-related errands, and me the chance to do a few things around the house. so we planned to meet there. i had a shower (which was more difficult than i expected, because when i was done, and tried to step out, i just kept leaking green water), did some laundry, washed the dishes, carried a few items to the basement, hung the laundry to dry, then headed to the clinic.

when we arrived, we learned that mico had been delayed. she was raspberry picking when alyssa called her and said she'd head home before coming into the clinic. but on her way along the 401, her tire exploded – not just flat, but exploded. so instead, jane consulted on our appointment. it didn't take long for them to determine was in fact meconium (baby poop). from the home-birth info session a few months ago, we learned that when meconium appears in the water, it's the community standard to transfer to hospital. since then, i knew that that would be one of my least ideal scenarios, so you can imagine how unhappy i was to find myself in that exact situation. in addition to that, i knew that if labour didn't begin soon that i would end up being induced – another scenario i'd been wanting to avoid because induced labour tends to be more intense and leads to more interventions. so there i was, in pre-labour already facing undesired circumstances. it's odd/surprising to me that my water broke first, because that only happens to 10% of women, so i just assumed that would not happen to me.

alyssa strapped me into the fetal monitor to take a listen to the baby's heart to make sure everything was still safe. heather arrived for a practice meeting and popped in to check on me. she had a nice presence to her and offered me some homeopath to induce labour naturally. in the meantime, mico arrived and we all agreed to meet up at the hospital, after discussing the possibility of me labouring at home. unfortunately, because of the meconium that wasn't an advisable option.

back at the exile, b and i packed hospital bags. i'd had a more basic bag packed in case of short-notice transfer to KGH, but quickly realized i would need many more things (that morning alone, i'd already gone through three pairs of underpants). within about 15 minutes, brendan, rachel and i had piled into our car and were headed to the hospital – shannon was going to meet us there. thinking back, it was really nice heading in in a lucid, prepared and happy state. the sense of excitement helped ease the disappointing change of plans.

thankfully mico and alyssa were there when we arrived because we really didn't know what our next course of action was. we'd been told while at the clinic that connell 5 was super backed up and the nurses wouldn't have time to tend to me for quite a while. we considered this a problem to our advantage because we still were hoping labour would begin or we could induce labour naturally (the homeopath or maybe nipple stimulation). shannon soon arrived and reported to the nursing station that she was one of my doulas and was told that doulas didn't count as people and she could be there even though i already had two people with me. we were super excited to hear this, but were soon disappointed when (presumably) someone else told mico that i had too many people and that one had to go :( i told the girls to decide between the two of them what to do, and they decided to switch out. shannon was super disappointed, but planned to be back around supper time. soon after she left someone suggested that if she sneak back in after the shift change we might be able to get away with having three people.

over the next few hours, the nurses continued to be too busy for us, so in the meantime we borrowed a hospital breast pump and got started on nipple stimulation. before long, i was producing colostrum and having consistent cramping in my back. i couldn't tell if it was a contraction, and the midwives didn't seem to think it was, but back cramping was always what i imagined my contractions to be like since that's where/how i get menstrual cramps. i was reaching the point where they came every 3 minutes and lasted approximately 20 seconds. but when i came off the pump for a 10 minute break they went away. soon after, the nurse became available and wanted to proceed with the oxytocin. that nurse's name was nicole and we liked her very much. she seemed really approachable and friendly. but when 7:00 rolled around and we were introduced to our night nurse laurie (the nurses all do 12 hour shifts – 7 to 7). laurie seemed more distance and kind of cold. she became immediately obsessed with the fetal heart monitor, frowning with displeasure at its output. she was also on the pessimistic side, regularly poo-pooing my thoughts and preferences. i feel it's worth mentioning, that over the next 12 hours, she really grew on each of us and by the time we said goodbye we liked her, and i think i'd gained her respect. shannon did return at around 7:35, and stayed with us til the very end with no questions asked. laurie just advised her and rach to not be seen together.

all the hospital staff were very nice, and we were surprised at how well they and the midwives worked together. they are clearly well acquainted and friendly with each other. all the hospital staff and residents would introduce themselves by their first name – another thing that surprised me. i don't know if this is a new hospital standard or if the system is just modernizing on its own, but it really helped me feel comfortable. bridget, the night resident, came in to see me at one point and asked about my pain-management plan. i told her (kind of awkwardly) that i didn't have one, but wanted to do without an epidural. afterward, i said to rach and shannon "i'm hoping that since i've never been in labour before that i'll just accept the level of pain from induction as normal". laurie overheard that and made a doubtful comment that i can't recall right now (probably for the best).

throughout the day, time passed quickly. the evening progressed with the four of us chatting, moving around and me dancing through contractions. we were in good spirits and didn't let being in the hospital lessen the experience. i tried to continue as normal as possible – brushing my teeth, getting into pajamas, aiming to feel comfortable. active labour began around 11, and i felt a noticeable difference. i slowly turned inward with each contraction. armed with my heating pad and my sound mind, i worked through each wave in silence. eventually, i couldn't move or dance or sit. my frequent trips to the toilet were difficult because i couldn't take my hot pad with me, which made it so much more painful. laurie told me that she'd check on my progress at 1 am, so i waited, watching the clock. when things started to get really hard i asked about laughing gas, but laurie said it was better to wait until much later in labour because the effect will have worn off by the transition phase. 

at some point i started secretly thinking about an epidural. i felt torn because i'd gone into things committed to not using one. i believed i was built to endure labour like a skyscraper build to endure an earthquake. but then there was the other side of things... i was in a lot of pain – more pain than i would've been under normal, natural circumstances. and i'd read an article recently entitled "9 bad reasons to get an epidural, and 1 good one". the one good one was 'not wanting to feel the pain of childbirth'. i was in pain, and i didn't want to feel it. i was tired and couldn't even sit down. i slowly started to articulate this to the girls and b. i would tell them "i don't like this" and "i wish i was just at home getting ready for bed". i sounded very rational, like i was commenting on a unfamiliar food or a bad cocktail party. i told myself that if i'd progressed significantly i could keep plugging on. when laurie checked me at 1 am, she announced that i was 2 cm and would probably reach 7 around 7 am. everyone else seemed quite optimistic about that, but it was not the report i was hoping for. i wanted to wait for laurie to leave the room so i could talk with my birth support, but she continued fiddling with the fetal monitor, so i timidly said "i'd like to talk about an epidural". thinking i was talking to hear, laurie said "what would you like to know?" :S i'm pretty sure i ignored her, and the rest of us just chatted together. i felt disappointed in myself, but really appreciated that no one made me feel badly about it. after it was administered, i felt much better and just kept thinking "i'm happy". i felt really relieved. i like to believe that things would've been different had i not been induced, but i can't know for sure. truthfully, in those circumstances, i'm not sure what purpose going without an epidural would've served. it almost feels like it would've just been me trying to prove something to an audience of judges that don't exist. with it... my spirits were buoyed; i could rest; brendan, shannon and rachel could rest; and i could continue in the morning.

junior mister

sometime very soon I need to find time to write out our birth story before I forget the details. right now my baby eamon is nursing so it's not the best time. even though I'm able to write this short message on my iPod. I think I'll write in chunks here and there whenever I get opportunities.

I will say now that things unfolded the exact opposite as we'd hoped. however that does not lessen the experience or the empowerment in any way. i feel good about the birth and have no doubts about my performance or ability - especially considering the circumstances. for that, and much more, I'm very thankful.

Sent from my iPod