Oli's Birth Story {part 3}

Since it was a Saturday, there seemed no reason not to head to the hospital - Brad was able to watch Lily and I knew my OB was working. Win-win. I was excited to leave the house alone too, so I got dressed up (you know life is in a tough stage when you get excited to go to the hospital because it means you can wear "real people" clothes and get fresh air!) and hopped on the bus.

Yes, I took the bus to the hospital to deliver my son. This makes people laugh a lot but I assure you, I was not in active labour and didn't think I would be birthing my son that day so I was thankful for the scenic, direct bus ride from our closest intersection to the hospital. It was late October after all (read: most beautiful time in Montreal), and I'd been bed-ridden for the three weeks prior.

When I got to the hospital I told the attendings that I was a patient of Dr. Hall and tons of people kept saying "oh she's working today! lucky you!" which I agreed :) However the same amount of health care professionals kept saying I probably wasn't in labour since I was completely fine, feeling nothing, and the more I recounted the 3am tale, the more it sounded like I wet the bed. Humiliating.

When I saw my doctor (about 30 minutes after I arrived) she was happy to see me and cute as ever. I love that woman! And visibly pregnant with her twins! For those moms out there, you know how you feel a bond between yourself and other pregos when you're pregnant? Totally happening! She, along with some adorable McGill med students, did an exam and tested the scant fluid to see if it was run-of-the-mill fluid or my "waters" (as if my water did break at 3am it wasn't fully so there would still be some to measure).

Dr. Hall came back excitedly just 15 minutes later with the test results. "Emily, amazing news! You are having this baby today! Your water did break!" I don't care how unprofessional it may sound that she seemed giddy - I loved it and her! "Oh good! I didn't wet the bed!" I blurted out and laughter ensured in the pregnancy ward triage. I was surrounded by amazing people and I was about to have my son!

They quickly ushered me into the delivery room and broke my water immediately - what was left of it. Because part of it had broken over 15 hours ago, there wasn't time to waste. I called Brad and told him to get Erika over stat as I was changing into my gown. He rushed around doing last minute things for Lily and trying to get a hold of our on-call babysitter, but she was no where to be found. After leaving a few texts and answering machine messages we began to get nervous. And I was starting to feel slight (this time, real!) contractions.

So there I was. Definitely in labour (yes!), with no childcare for my daughter and no husband by my side (gulp)...

Oli's Birth Story {part 2}

The false alarm trip to the hospital was so disheartening. On the elevator ride home a doctor saw us and pleasantly asked "heading home?" and I bitterly confirmed that we were. "You'll be back soon enough" he said kindly, though it felt like an eternity before we were.

Over a full week later, there were occasional contractions but nothing like the 12 hours of by-the-book contractions that sent me to the hospital earlier. I began to consider that Oli may come on time or late - something I'd never entertained before. That would not be cool. To even stand I felt enormous pressure in baby's neighbourhood and with every step shooting pain came from my lower back to the rest of my torso. My body was so weakened by these back to back pregnancies and I was so useless in the final weeks. I couldn't lift Lily or do much of anything without causing pain - unfortunate for me because I was looking to bring on labour!

I woke up at 3am on a Saturday morning feeling wet. Not drenched, but wet. I wasn't continuously dripping fluid nor did I have contractions - two things that follow your water breaking, 99% of the time. Physically I was such a wreck that it wasn't a stretch to think that I'd peed the bed, though obviously embarrassing! I woke up Brad, told him I *thought* I'd wet the bed (and apologized haha!), but also added that my water could have broken. He shot out of bed at the second notion, not the first. We googled it from my ipod and sure enough we read that unless I had continual liquid or contractions, it was unlikely that my water had broken. Back to bed I went, after grabbing a towel to cover the "pee". Sidenote: I know this whole story is ultra glamourous, try not to envy me or my husband ;)

The next morning we woke up to zero signs of labour, so it was business as usual. I was feeling great, but couldn't shake the night before. I washed our sheets and examined them real good. The wet stain spot was a decent size. Not yellow. Not smelling of urine. But very wet. Hmmmm.

Then I remembered my dear friend Jess who said when her water broke nothing happened and she had to be induced after 12 hours because of the dangers of a baby being inside of you with no water. I did the math. If my water broke, it was 13 hours ago. I better text her and get some details. Sure enough, she gave me the confidence I needed to head to the hospital to get checked out. But the real motivation was that my doctor whom I adore was working that day. Lily wasn't delivered by the OBGYN who had followed me through my pregnancy with her and I would love if Oli were.

So there I was - not feeling in labour at all. No real signs aside from a mysterious 3am wake up call. But knowing my husband was off that day and home with our daughter, and that my doctor would be waiting for me, I headed back to the hospital to see what was up...

Oli's Birth Story {part 1}

I never intended to wait so long for this post. Lily's birth story took a couple months too, but Oli is nearing 1 year! I guess that's a glimpse into life with two children over one :)
But as Oli begins to stand and crawl and babble his heart out, I think it's more than time to post how he came into the world.
On a beautiful day, 11 months ago.

My pregnancy with Olivier was much harder than mine with Lily. Many of you read about it here, so I'll spare you the minute details. When I was 7.5 months pregnant I was put on "light" bed rest and missed my best friend's out-of-province wedding where I was to serve as Maid of Honour, so perhaps more than the average pregnant mama, I wanted him OUT.

If I'm honest, I was beginning to resent the little guy. He had taken some moments from me that I'll never get back. I was dying to self him every day. I was missing out on time with my daughter because this pregnancy knocked me off my feet, literally.
But isn't that parenting, friends?
Before he was born he'd already taught me so much.

With Oli I wasn't expecting an on-time delivery or a late one. Lily was 8 days early, and she was my 1st. And everyone and their brother told me first babies never come early.
Well she did, so I expected her brother to as well. Hopefully even earlier (while still in the realm of healthy, of course!). With thoughts of an early birth coming, at 37.5 weeks we happily drove to the hospital after 12 straight hours of contractions. They weren't painful, but they were by-the-book consistent. 5 minutes apart, lasting for a minute each. FOR THE WHOLE DAY.

Since I wasn't in pain and we didn't have childcare lined up for Lily, we wisely waited them out at home until signs of more imminent labour came (my water breaking, painful contractions, etc). I had a warm bath and did all kinds of relaxing things. I tried to go to sleep, but by 11pm they were still ever-persistent. Eventually we called Erika, our dear friend who loves to go to bed early. She dutifully and lovingly came over, though she was surely in bed already when we called.

And we were off!

We called Brad's brothers on the way to the hospital and asked them what they thought about Olivier's middle name. See, we wanted to name him after one of his uncles, but which one!? We flipped a coin since we love both Mike and Rob equally. Rob won, but graciously (and so typically of Rob), insisted we go with Mike since Mike was older (Brad is the oldest).

We pulled into St. Mary's and I was hooked up to the fetal heart monitor and contraction-counter (does anyone know the real name for that!?)
I was texting with my long-distance girlfriend who conveniently lives in a timezone three hours behind us. At my midnight and her 9pm we chatted away excitedly. Then the two of us realized it was October 17th (Eastern Time). The birthday of her twins! How cool would it be if her children and my son shared a birthday? This was all too perfect.

And then my contractions stopped altogether.

False alarm. Sent home. Discouraged and defeated.

...and it was another week before we were back.