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.
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