My baby no more?

Baby Boy!

Corbett was born with very little hair.  And it grew slow. SLOOOW.  On his second birthday, we took him for a haircut, not because he needed it, but because I grew impatient of waiting for that milestone.

Two Years Old

Anyway, his hair continued to grow, and the curls began to show.  And boy, did he have curls.  Beautiful curls.

Three Years Old

Those curls have garnered him much attention and won him plenty of "get out of jail free"cards.

"Ladies love me because I have curly hair"

But, he hates having it combed. It is very fine hair and it knots so easily. The tears were too much.  I have always said that I would never argue with my kids about hair.  Its just hair.  You want a mohawk?  Fine.  Blue hair? Even better.

Its just hair.

But, but, but...

Corbett's curls? Gorgeous.

He asked a while ago, to cut it, so we took him.  When the hair dresser asked what he wanted, he told her he wanted the back and sides long still, but the front bang shorter.  He was happy with that.  For a while.

On Tuesday, at his hair appointment, Corbett asked for short hair. The hairdresser looked at me, questioningly, and I replied, "It's his hair, his choice".

So she cut. 

And she cut some more.  If I was an emotional person, I might have shed a tear or two.  Instantly, as the hair fell away, my baby boy,  my precious, last born--grew up.  The child whose pregnancy was so miserable, but in contrast brings so much joy.  He was growing older, instantly, before my eyes. It was like watching one of those videos where you see a person age before your eyes.

I sent a text to my husband.

Me: Corbett is getting it cut short.
Him: Nooooooooo (He is the more emotional one.  I knew he'd be sad to see the curls go)
Me: Yes (followed by this picture)

Corbett LOVES his new haircut.  He no longer has to endure the combing sessions he hates so much.  I am happy for him, I truly am.  And he looks very handsome.  I admit that I miss the curls, but they were never mine to have. If he ever wants too, he can grow them back.

But, he grew up, right before my eyes.  And that?  Oh, my heart.

(this picture is not the best picture of his new 'do, but it is the first one,  I will post better pics next time)

Six Years Old.

Thank you. Thank you very much!

If you haven't read the previous post yet, you may want to do that. 

January 8th came and Corbett was still nestled safely in my womb with no plans on exiting. (For the record, he still operates on his own schedule.)

We headed to the midwifery office for noon, and she checked me out.  I was about 1cm dilated as I had been for a few days.  She did a stretch and sweep - (gee THAT'S fun)- and about 10 minutes later, I felt a couple mild contractions.

Feeling that we could probably get labour started we planned to head over to the hospital,  so we could try to induce labour, without drugs.  She let me know, that if a body is ready to go into labour, that a breast pump can induce labour.  How frickin' cool is THAT!?

We called my best friend Micheline, who had agreed to assist again, and let her know we'd call her once things got started.

After a much calmer drive to the hospital, I was admitted, and the great big double breast pump was brought forth.  It was scary, but it worked. By 1:30 contractions started slowly, but with strength.  Jordan and I walked.  Jordan and I talked. Jordan and I ate.  We joked that Corbett would likely share a birthday with Elvis Presley.  I declined to give him Elvis as a middle name. It was weird. It was much more relaxed than my labour with Zachary.

In fact, it was so relaxed, that when Jordan heard the Air Ambulance preparing to take off, he grabbed the camera and went charging down the hallway to get pictures of it out the window. I was in the middle of a very strong contraction. Stand back ladies, he's ALL mine.

Micheline arrived, and at this point contractions were pretty regular and intense.  I could never really find a comfortable position, because Corbett wouldn't stay still.  Although he was head down, he kept spinning around like a break dancer.  He was face up, face down, face sideways.  He did this the whole way through delivery.  In hindsight, this should have told us about our new baby's character.

Finally, I allowed them to break my water.  It had been offered to me twice as a way to speed things along, but I had declined.  Since my car accident in 1991, I have experienced a lot of necessary medical intervention, so I quite stubbornly tend to avoid it when its not necessary.

So my water was broken and soon I had to push.  There were no difficulties.  I tell people that an easy delivery was due to me after that pregnancy.  I know that it was just luck of the draw.

On January 8th, 2006, at 6:54pm , after just over 5 hours of labour, Corbett Peter Valiquette was born weighing 7 pounds, 13 ounces. He had very little hair, and what was there was so fine and fair it was barely visible. It was nine days after his due date. 

Yes, Zachary and Corbett were born on each other's due date.

Despite my persistent fears that my illness and all the drugs I had taken for it would harm him in some way, he was absolutely perfect.  I had been so afraid that I wouldn't love him or bond with him.  That even though he was so very wanted, that I would resent him for all the illness.

He took my breath away.  I cried tears of relief, because the pregnancy was over.  My baby was here, and we were both okay.

I knew then that all the trouble the pregnancy had caused me had been worth it.  It didn't make it any easier, but it made it worthwhile. 

Today Corbett is still full of spunk.  He's a firecracker.  His name means Raven. Jordan, Zachary and I all have dark, almost raven coloured hair. Corbett has curly, sandy coloured hair.  Its gorgeous. Everyone loves it and he knows it.  In fact, he has said "Ladies love me because I have curly hair".

And its true.  That curly hair helps him get away with a lot of mischief!

But more importantly, Corbett, everyone loves you. They love you because you are caring, energetic and funny.  You love to be with people, are quick with a smile (usually a mischevious one), and always giving hugs. Eternally optimistic and smart as can be , you just don't understand why things don't always go your way. You absolutely adore your big brother. Your wit and charm are unmistakeable, and I couldn't be prouder to call you my son.  I have no doubt that you will attain your 5th birthday wish for "FOURTEEN GIRLFRIENDS"

I just hope you wait.


Love,

Mom

                                                              Photo by PhotoCaptiva

Sometimes, pregnancy sucks.

Today is the day before Corbett turns 6.  This post is decidedly less wistful than the posts I wrote about Zachary.  But it is a story that deserves telling, because Corbett is loved, and his story is equally important to tell, even though its less "pretty".

Jordan and I always knew that we would want to have another child if that was what fate had in store for us.  We didn't have a set idea on how far apart our kids should be, or any other such plans.  We just figured that when it was time for #2, we would know.


I also knew that pregnancy hadn't been all that pleasant or "easy" for me.  I wasn't quite sure when I would be ready to put myself through that again.


Two years old.  It was shortly before Zachary's 2nd birthday when we found ourselves saying :Now.  Now our family is ready to grow."  Although these things are never truly in our control, we knew we wanted to avoid another December baby. 


Let's face it, December is a bit baby heavy in our families.  Apparently everyone needs a little extra lovin' in March.  My twin brother and I were born December 5th, Jordan's birthday is Deccember 8th, and his sisters are December 19th and 28th.  Follow that up with Zachary's birthday on December 30th, and it gets a little crazy here!  On top of all that, there's Christmas and several friends with December birthdays.


So we were hoping for a fall baby.  I became pregnant quickly, but from the moment I knew I was pregnant, I also knew I wouldn't be for long.  I don't know why I knew.  I just did.


Still, I scheduled an appointment with our midwife, trying to think positive. That's what I do.  I think positive.  The day of my appointment came, and I woke up to some spotting.  Damn, I thought. Damn.  I mentioned it to the midwife and she said all the right things, that spotting is normal, etc.


A due date of late September was set.  3 hours later, at 8 weeks pregnant, I miscarried.  Its funny how sometimes you just know these things.  Jordan was at work, and I didnt even call him.  His job can be dangerous, and he was working graveyard shift, so I just didnt want him to worry. Besides, what could he do?

I went home and had dance party with my two year old.  Because its really hard to be sad when you're dancing with a two year old.


We tried again, and lo-and behold, at the beginning of May, learned we were pregnant. Yep, thats right, the beginning of May.  My due date?  December 30th.  Zachary's 3rd birthday.

Well played, fate.  Hardy har.

 
My pregnancy with Zachary was tough.  This one?  It pains me to say, but it sucked.  I hated it. By 8 weeks, I knew I could never handle pregnancy again.  At 9 weeks, I was hospitalized with severe dehydration. At 12 weeks, it hadn't stopped.  Nor at 13 weeks. 


With this pregnancy, I was ill a minimum of 10 times a day, quite frequently as many as 25 times. I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum.

If you've not experienced this, you can really only begin to imagine.  To manage through the day, I took diclectin, gravol,and had a careful schedule of eating and drinking.  I could not eat and drink at the same time.  I couldn't drink more than about 2-3 ounces of liquid at a time. Just the sensation of liquid sloshing in my stomach, would make me ill. At least 30 minutes had to pass between eating and drinking.


This carried on from 6 weeks to 14 weeks, when out of desperation, I tried accupuncture.  "What the hell", I said, "it can't get much worse".  It helped.  Big time. After two treatments, I was only throwing up about 5 times a day.  Still, a lot, but far better for me and my baby.  Around the same time, we also discovered the foods that my stomach handled best.


1)Plain McDonald's Cheeseburgers - Nothing else.  Not home made. Not Wendy's or Burger King.  It had to have cheese too.  A hamburger wouldn't do.

2)Tim Horton's Honey Dip Donuts

3)Plain popcorn

I ate those 3 things, and ONLY those 3 things for 6 weeks. Finally, at about 21 weeks, the puking stopped.  I woke up with no nausea and wondered what the hell was wrong with me.  I was scared our baby had died, but then thankfully, he kicked me, hard. I`m still here Mom, he was saying.


The rest of the pregnancy went as most pregnancies do, but I was quite weak.  I can`t say I enjoyed the rest of the pregnancy, but I definitely didn`t hate it anymore. It still makes me sad to say I hated pregnancy, but there you have it.  I won`t lie.  Pregnancy and I just aren`t friends.


Despite the rocky start, Corbett (we knew he was a boy) kept growing well, and was looking to be a bigger baby than his brother.  My due date came and went. Not only did this baby make me ridiculously sick, he was now making me wait!! 


Finally on January 5th, my midwife and I had a conversation about Corbett`s arrival or lack thereof.  My parents were on vacation in Morocco.  My brother had to head back home to Toronto on the 7th. My close friends were moving to Toronto on the 6th. My parents were returning sometime around the 9th or 10th. We were running out of people to look after Zachary if I went into labour. And given the speedy labour with Zachary, we needed a plan.

"Well, how does January 8th work for you?" she asked.

"That works just fine", I said.

So it was decided that if Corbett hadn't made his entrance into the world by January 8th, 2006, we would coax him along. 

We had a plan.

Tomorrow: Thank you. Thank you very much!

12 things for '12

It has been a crazy, crazy few years.  I know everyone says that, but for serious....its been nuts.
Once Jordan was laid off at the beginning of 2009, my life went into overdrive, and I took every opportunity I could to keep the family afloat financially, continued to work on my schooling, etc. The year or two before that was no picnic either, but that's another story for another day.

Although the hours I work are less, and Jordan has been back to work for a year, life is still crazy. And there have been costs, to my personal life and contentment.

As an example, it has been four years since I had any kind of extended time off.  The most time off in a row I've had in a row has been four days (once).  And that included a Saturday and Sunday. I'm not complaining, just stating the facts.

Now, don't get me wrong.  Although the situation we were in was unfortunate, we were extremely lucky that the opportunities that came my way, did.  I have still tried to make time for me to do the things I wanted, specifically, running, but it does come at a cost.  I have no downtime, ever. I am definitely working towards burning out, and I plan to fix that.

So without further delay, these are the twelve things I plan to do this year, to help me reach the goal of less stress, and more me time.

1) Get our debt under control.  You can imagine with a two year lay-off of the family breadwinnner that our savings (thankfully we had what we did) diminished and our credit was heavily relied on.  Time to take steps to fix that.

2)Paint Corbett's room.  I promised him that I would do it almost two years ago.  Everytime I put him to bed, I am reminded that I still need to do it. Also, he keeps asking, so obviously its something he really wants.

3) Learn to knit. This will give me something productive to do when I am sitting for many hours at a karate dojo, waiting for the kids.  Also, it is an activity that requires focus (no multitaksing), and that is something I have to work on. I am not too good at taking time to sit still and do one thing.

4) Spend a day doing nothing.  NOTHING.

5) Run 5km in under 28 minutes.

6) Play with the kids more. More specifically, kicks their butts at XBox and/or Wii

7) Do the CN Tower Edge Walk, with my Mom.

8) Find someway to let the friends and family who have helped us in so many way just how much we appreciate them. This is probably impossible, but I am sure going to try.

9) Take a week off. A whole week. At once. 

10) Blog more

11) Find more opportunities to play flute

12) Go to Canada's Wonderland, without kids and ride every roller coaster. Scream and laugh for each one.

So that's it.  Sometimes it seems overwhelming. Sometimes it seems like it will be easy.  But mark my words....I WILL do it!

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