Carry On, Part 3

There are very few things I have done in my life that I've done"in the "typical"way.

Needless to say, my labour and delivery was the same.  I woke at about 6:30am on Monday, December 30th with some bad gas; or so I thought.  I went to the bathroom, and when I went back to bed mentioned to my husband that maybe I shouldn't have had that piece of Chocolate Eruption cheesecake.  He laughed.

30 minutes later there was no laughing. There was just me, sitting on the toilet, definitely in labour and definitely in pain.  Let it be said here, that among the people who know me, my high pain tolerance is legendary.

I. WAS. IN. PAIN.

Contractions were 7 minutes apart.

And then my midwife says the standard line about ÿou are definitely in labour, but not until full labour until contractions are 5 minutes apart for an hour.

30 minutes after that call, my husband calls the midwife again and says "Her contractions are 7 minutes, then 3 minutes, 7 minutes then 3 minutes, she wont get off the toilet and she's screaming!"

During their conversation, 3 minutes had passed and she heard me scream.  From about 45 feet away. Over the phone.  In a different room.  Between two doors. 

"Jordan, she's in transition, and you need to get her to the hospital NOW."

To which my poor husband says "Transition to what?"

"The baby is coming....now."

Jordan told me we had to go. I told I wasn't getting off the f$%&ing toilet. He offered to call an ambulance, and I told him we couldnt afford a f^%$ing ambulance. So off my perch I got, put on his pyjama pants, his shirt and fuzzy bear claw slippers, and got in the car.  I shore looked preeeetttyyy!

And so, it was like the movies.  Husband blowing every light and stop sign to the hospital.  Wife in the passenger seat, unable to actually sit.  Jordan had the chance to call 3 people before we left.  My parents, his sister, and my best friend (who was coming to assist in the delivery room). 

We got to the hospital, I was raced up to a delivery room, and checked by the midwife who said I could push. 

First push, they could see a head full of hair.  Over two hours later I was still pushing.  Our baby was stuck!

The midwives called for an OB/GYN consult.  He took a look and said,

"Well, he's definitely stuck.  We are going to have to try forceps.  If that doesn't work, we will have to push him back up and go C-Section"

I am pretty sure I stopped breathing for a second or two there.  In my head, I was thinking "there is no goddamned way I have pushed for over 2 hours so you can push him back up!"

Thankfully, it was not necesary. The forceps worked.  Those suckers are HUGE!

On December 30th, 2002, after 4 hours and 43 minutes of labour, over half of it pushing-Zachary James Valiquette was born, at 11:13am weighing 6 pounds 11 ounces.

He came into this world surrounded by love.  In addition to my husband and the midwives, there were my parents and my best friend, Micheline, all there through the whole delivery.  My twin brother and his wife were in the family waiting area.

He had dark brown eyes and a head full of hair.  His feet were enormous, and he was so little.  He took my breath away, and I cried tears of joy.

Despite his difficult delivery, due to his head being tilted so that his ear was touching his shoulder (no wonder he got stuck), he was healthy and perfect.

Since then he was grown into an incredible young man.  He is quiet and introverted.  He's funny without trying to be.  He doesn't like to be the centre of attention.  He's very practical. He's incredibly generous. He loves karate and running.

In the last two years, using running as a fundraiser, Zachary has raised over $2500 for charity.

Every day, he makes me smile.  Every day he makes me proud.

Carry on, Zachary.  Carry on.

Carry On - Part 2

If you missed Part 1, go here--> http://zackandcorbett.blogspot.com/2011/12/carry-on-part-1.html

Oh boy. Holy crap! Wow.

Pregnant. We were going to have a baby.

Jordan was elated. Once the shock wore off, I was too.

Everyone's timeline differs, but in time people were told. Everyone was happy. Even better, my close friend announced her pregnany, and was due two weeks after me.

Life carries on. We had radically different pregnancies. She was glowing. I was puking. She kept glowing, I kept puking. A lot.

Pregnancy and I were NOT friends. But I knew this was meant to be. Babies come when they want, don't they?

We had a name picked the first week we knew, but truthfully, I think that our baby just picked his own name and let us know what it was. There was never any debate. One day, I looked at my husband and said "What about Zachary?" and he said "Yes!"

I was due January 8th.

By end of November, I had horrible heartburn. By mid-December, my feet were swollen. On December 23rd, I had to wear my husband's Size 12 running shoes to a funeral held for my friend's father. I couldn't tie them up. I looked like a beached whale. In running shoes.

At any moment, I was convinced that Greenpeace was going to find me, and return me to the ocean.

And boy were we under stress.

Jordan had been laid off part way through my pregnancy, and we had completely drained our savings so that he could return to school.

My job had ended. Remember that job I took? The one where I was covering the maternity leave, of a girl covering a maternity leave? Well, on December 20th, I started my OWN maternity leave. Clearly, this was a very fertile place.

On top of all this, we signed the papers to buy or first house on December 13th and were scheduled to take posession on January 15th, one week past my due date.

I was huge, I was swollen, I was stressed, I was DONE.

But depsite all this, on December 30th, when I went from no labour, to transitioning in less than an hour, I still had no bag packed.

Everyone says the first baby is usually late. Everyone says the first labour is usually 12 -16 hours.

Well, I like to prove people wrong. Even when its harder on me.

I'm kinda stubborn that way.

Part 3, tomorrow....

Carry On - Part 1

I dislike when people call it a "surprise pregnancy" After all when one engages in such behaviour, pregnancy is an outcome one can reasonably expect.

As a teenager, I was prescribed birth control pills to control extrememly heavy periods. For various health reasons, including debilitating migraines, I was unable to continue and really wasn't comfortable with the other options available to me. When I was 18, I stopped taking them. I carried on with life. I was careful. I was safe.

I started dating Jordan in 1994. Things got serious and I tried the pill again. It went poorly, so after a brief discussion with Jordan, I stopped . We were only dating at the time, but we were adults. Each of us were 22. The year was 1995.

We made the decision to carry on and if a pregnancy occured, we would carry on with that as well. We were careful. Oh so careful. We watched the calendar, I counted days...and our lives went on.

We married in October of 2000, with no immediate plans to start a family. It was definitely something we wanted, but to be honest, I had my doubts. After all, I hadn't used birth control in five years, and there had been no pregnancy.

During the late winter months of 2002, Jordan expressed a desire to add to our family. I wasn't entirely on board. What if we couldn't get pregnant? I was laid off and although he was working the pay was shitty. Being the practical one, I really felt it wasn't the best timing.

We made a deal. We'd carry on, as we had been, and re-evaluated at the beginning of 2003, or when our circumstances changed. A reasonable compromise.

As luck would have it, in April, I interviewed for a contract position. If successful, I would be covering the maternity leave for a girl covering someone's maternity-leave.

In hindsight, that might have been a clue as to my immediate future.

After 2 interviews and about 3 weeks, I was offered the position. My start date was to be the middle of May 2002.

On May 4th, my period was 3 days late. I had only ever been off schedule twice in my life. Once was while I was hospitalized after a major car accident, the other after undergoing surgery.

I decided to wait two more days. If I was still late, I'd take a pregnancy test.

Now, Jordan, on the best of days, is a pretty anxious guy, so I chose not to tell him anything. Why worry him, or get him excited, for nothing?

Two days passed, and there was no period in sight. I picked up a pregnancy test and brought it home. Alone. I closed the door, peed on a stick and panicked when two lines appeared, instantly.

SOMETHING MUST BE WRONG! The test said to wait 2 minutes!

I wasn't sure what to think. After all, the second line literally appeared , the instant that pee met stick. Instantly. Did I mention it was instant?

"It's calibrating" I thought.

So I walked away, and watched the clock tick away two minutes. 120 seconds...

When I looked at that stick, there were still two magical lines.

After 7 years of playing the risky game of russian roulette with my ovaries, I was pregnant.

And I had no frickin' idea what to do.

Part 2 - soonish.....

Part Two --> http://zackandcorbett.blogspot.com/2011/12/carry-on-part-2.html