The Saga of My Labour: Part Two

The two weeks leading up to my labour were filled with constant monitoring at the hospital. With each visit a non stress test and an ultrasound were performed. Every indication was that my baby girl was happy and quite content to stay right where she was: baking a little longer in the womb. The ultrasounds also revealed that the placenta was still healthy with an excellent flow of blood through the umbilical chord. The amniotic fluid also read as normal - especially considering how far along I was getting. So with all indications looking positive I was in no rush to hurry my baby and stress her out - especially since I was still hoping for a home birth. Thus the waiting game really began and my daughter taught me the first lesson of parenthood: patience.

In some ways waiting and ticking off the days really was a pleasure. I reveled my pregnant physique and continued to be quite active with gardening, aqua-fit and evening walks with my mom. In fact with all the walking I was doing it was a surprise I didn't walk this baby right out. Sure tying my shoes became next to impossible, getting up out of chairs and bed became tedious, and the heartburn was sure to attack the moment I lay back; however, besides these few irritants I was very conscious that I was sustaining life and I cherished being so intimately attached. Probably what was most irritating for me was having so many people, even complete strangers, react as if going overdue was absurd and then go on to say, "Go have lots of sex; that's what worked for me." Seriously even a Winners employee told me to go home and have sex. Thanks lady, in case you'd like to know my name is Erin Campbell; is there any other personal unsolicited advice you'd like to bestow upon me? I smiled and I laughed it off. If my baby wasn't in a rush then neither was I.

It was Thursday morning May 2nd that I went in for another non stress test and ultrasound. Since I was only a couple days away from being a full forty-two weeks it was now mandatory to have a consultation with an obstetrician and be informed as to the professional opinion. The non stress test went smoothly, as I knew it would as I could feel my baby girl moving and stretching and I felt no inner alarm. The ultrasound also confirmed a healthy placenta. However, the level of amniotic fluid had dropped. So there I was: first waiting for the obstetrician to make an appearance and second to hear what he had to say. Luke and I waited all morning but our scheduled appointment kept getting bumped. Eventually we were sent for lunch. Finally the obstetrician showed up around 2pm. His professional opinion was that I induce immediately. Plus he informed me that my cervix had yet to dilate which meant I was a sure candidate for a caesarean;  later our midwives informed us that he didn't even want to give me that option and had simply wanted to schedule the surgery that day.

I was shocked and taken back. I was also offended; the medical staff didn't even try to mask their opinion that going overdue, especially two weeks overdue, was simply putting the baby at risk. I felt like reminding them that going overdue is actually normal and that studies have proven the safety of going right up to forty-three weeks, otherwise the College of BC Midwives wouldn't support it. I had heard the obstetrician's opinion but I was not about to be pushed around. I insisted that I consult with the midwives before I made any decision. He was not impressed that I dared challenge him. He made it clear that by not taking his advice meant he wouldn't be responsible for any adverse outcomes.

I don't remember exactly when I started to cry. It appeared that my home-birth was slipping away and with it any sort of control that was mine. I was desperately afraid that if I really was induced and admitted to the hospital all my hopes of a natural drug free birth would spiral away and the inevitable cesarean would loom ever larger. I felt paralyzed by fear; sucked into the vortex of the medical realm with the doors to the operating room swung open to the black hole that awaited me. It was too much. It was all I could see and all I could think about. Luke held me; consoling and reminding me that we would see the midwives and take it one step at a time. By the time the nurse came back to inform us that a midwife was waiting for us at their office I had somewhat regained my composure. I still clung to the hope that the medical opinion was overzealous and simply unwilling to see what was normal. Yet, my amniotic fluid had dropped and what did that mean?

Luke and I chose to walk to the midwives' office. Again a small part of me hoped that by some miracle just walking would put me into labour and that all this worry and fuss would be for nothing. It wasn't to be. Our midwife explained that the dropping of the amniotic fluid meant that my body's ability to sustain our baby girl was decreasing. Although there was still an adequate amount of fluid if it dropped any further then there wouldn't be enough for our baby to endure labour. Therefore I had a choice: I could either be induced or I could wait until Monday and go in for more monitoring. However, if my amniotic fluid dropped further then a natural birth would no longer be an option and an emergency c-section would be performed.

The next decision to make was if I was going to be induced would it be that evening or the next morning. That evening meant it would have to be at the Abbotsford Hospital (a half hour drive away) because the midwife on call was already attending a birth there. Or I could get a good night's rest and simply walk down the road and get induced at the Chilliwack Hospital the following morning. Initially Chilliwack seemed so convenient being right down the road; however, Abbotsford was a new facility with brighter, bigger and private rooms - and birthing tubs. I asked the simple question that would determine my choice: which hospital has the lower cesarean rate? As it turns out the obstetrician that I consulted with at the Chilliwack Hospital, his actual name I cannot recall although he has the nickname Dr. Doom and Gloom and Luke later referred to him as Dr. Cut Me Up, would be the O.B. on call that weekend, and of the O.B.s his cesarean rate was the highest. So, while the midwives would fight tooth and nail for whatever decisions I made, I had to be aware that not only would I not have his support, but I would be pressured into giving up and letting him do what he does best: operate. Yet, at the Abbotsford Hospital the midwives were all highly respected and as long as there was hope and progress the entire staff, doctors and nurses alike, would exhaust all options supporting a vaginal delivery. That was all I needed to hear.

It was four o'clock, it had been a long day and there was a lot of information to absorb; Luke and I decided to walk home and discuss it. Ultimately, while I could've waited the weekend the chance I wouldn't be able to have a vaginal birth, and thus wouldn't be able to go through the act of labour,  was the determining factor. While this meant I had to give up my home birth at least this way I was assured the opportunity of having as normal a birth as possible. So with the information we had Luke and I decided that an induction that evening at the Abbotsford Hospital would be best. I made the phone call and an appointment for five-thirty was made. Our baby girl's presence was eminent. 

attempts at writing this post: 9

16 weeks: Enjoying jumping around outdoors

The Saga of My Labour: Part One

The saga began two weeks before labour commenced.

I was forty weeks and there was no indication that my baby girl would be coming anytime soon. I wasn't surprised. True I had the false alarm, but the false alarm was more surprising than waiting. From my observations it's a rare case when a baby came on time and even more rare to come early. So from the start I figured that I would just expect to go to forty-two weeks and anything earlier would be a bonus. Imagine my surprise then when already I was being informed about the possibility of needing to forego my planned home birth due to the need for an induction - even though I still had two weeks to safely have the home birth that Luke and I were planning (three according to the College of Midwives of BC)!

I suppose it could be that I was extra sensitive being so near the end of my pregnancy that the fear was able to creep in. The fear could also be contributed to the fact that not one of my three midwives could find the opening to my cervix in order to perform a membrane sweep; in addition my cervix had neither softened nor had it dilated. In essence there was no sign that my body was preparing itself to give birth. As a result I was being warned that I had to consider a hospital birth - me the girl who although stating I believe that there is a time and place for everything, including the necessity of medical expertise during labour under certain circumstances, was truthfully nearly paralyzed by fear at the very thought of actually labouring and giving birth in a hospital.

I was calm and collected during my appointment. I took in the information and thanked my midwife. I walked home stunned, refusing to believe that I would be in the hospital, determined to prove them all wrong and that by the end of week forty-two I would be having my home-birth. I did have two weeks after all. This panic after only two or three days past my due date was ridiculous. Yet the fear took hold. That night I cried as a I literally saw my imagined safe, comforting and serene home birth fade while the cold hellish nightmare of being controlled by nurses and doctors bombarded their way into my thoughts and became my reality.

Labour Flowers from Luke

My saving grace was my friendship with a midwife. This is the beauty of midwifery: their ability to listen and be attuned not just to the physical facts but to our emotional wellbeing and to realize the full extent as to how much our emotions affect our physical wellbeing. I'm sure she heard my desperation as I told her what my body was doing, or wasn't doing in this case, and that I was being told that all indications were pointing to the hospital. I'm so glad I had her to turn to; she listened, she addressed the issues and then she encouraged me. She informed me that while my body was not yet reacting in the textbook manner to being forty weeks along, all that simply meant was that my body wasn't ready to give birth. The opening to my cervix may be hard to find, but I was pregnant so obviously there was an opening and when it was actually time my body would know exactly what to do. My body may be different but it wasn't defective. After all there were many cases where women were dilated but then took weeks to give birth and then there were others that never dilated, but when the time came went from zero to ten centimetres in next to no time at all. In addition, it's true that the CMBC does fully support home births up to forty-three weeks and they wouldn't do so if it wasn't completely proven safe. So, while my midwives were informing me about the possibility of needing a hospital birth, it wasn't because they necessarily believed I was going to end up there. Instead, they legally had to prepare and inform me so that I had all the information available and could make the best decision possible for myself.

Along with my friend's midwifery expertise and Luke's support the fear was squelched. In its place was a sense of calm and empowerment. I believed in myself. As a result I could trust the decisions that Luke and I would make on the way. I would be at peace knowing that I wasn't coerced; rather every decision made and every course of action taken would be done with my involvement and with purpose.

# of attempts writing this post: 4

Play time :)

Catch Up

It has been over two months since my last post at forty weeks gestation. So much has happened in the last nine and a half weeks that rather than writing one ridiculously long post I will be writing a series of posts in the few rare and precious moments of free time that I actually manage to get to myself.

Before I begin my rendition of the saga of my baby girl's birth I should probably bring my readers up to speed. First, yes I FINALLY had my baby girl on Sunday May 5, 2013 - two weeks and day past her due date! Her name is Myla Ida Joy Campbell and she is already seven and a half weeks old. I know it's cliche, but time really does fly and it's true when you become a parent the free moments are few and it really is a dilemma to prioritize what's important and then choose what to do first. So often, as soon as Myla nods off for a nap, I find myself asking what's more important: the mound of laundry, the stack of dishes, the growing dust bunnies on the floor, doing errands, doing some weeding, getting some exercise, having a shower, having something to eat, or having a nap myself. So, when it comes to anything extra like relaxing such as having a bath, reading or writing this blog the time rarely appears.

Even now as I sit here writing I fully expect Myla to wake up interrupting my train of thought. I wouldn't be surprised if this simple catch up post takes me more than one attempt (actually as I write this line this is my third attempt at writing this post; yesterday I was interrupted for a series of feedings). Even now, as it is 10:00pm and Myla has been asleep for the last hour, I know that I should go to sleep as it will be only a few short hours before she's awake and thus I too will be awake. However, I feel as if I should also wrap up this blog post so that another nine weeks don't go by without one.

Much has occurred these last two months. I have given birth, I had my thirtieth birthday, both Mother's Day and Father's Day has come and gone, I had my graduation ceremony and through all this Myla has grown out of her newborn outfits and is nearly outgrown some of her three month old sleepers. So now that it's established where we are it is time to end this little post with the promise that a series of posts describing events leading up to labour, the saga of my birth story, and some events and details of life afterwards are sure to follow within the next couple weeks. I'm looking forward to sharing my story, but for now I must say goodnight and join my daughter in slumber.

Luke made this tank-top for me 

Nap time!

Myla Monkey

Waiting with Purpose

I've officially made it to forty weeks gestation with an estimated due date of April 20, 2013.
And what a time week thirty-nine was.

To begin with on Sunday evening I submitted the very last final graded paper of my degree! What a fantastic feeling and lifted weight that was. I'm so pleased to have completed the course before my baby girl arrives. Now I can relax and really concentrate on getting ready for her arrival. Of course, this isn't to say that I'm lightly passing over the fact that not only have I finished this course, but even more satisfying is the feeling of completing my degree!!! Wow, this fact still amazes me. It was a goal that I had set for myself and while it took far longer than I ever thought it would, I persevered and I really am so happy to have accomplished this goal.

In a sense becoming pregnant helped me to focus in on completing my degree; it was the final driving force that pushed me to finish once and for all. On the other hand during the process of achieving my degree I had so much opportunity to educate myself about the practice of midwifery. In turn this has given me full insight as to the benefits and empowerment that having this type of care that focuses on informed choice has to offer. In addition, now that I'm so near to labour I feel that I have the confidence to persevere, that my body is actually designed and made to go through the process. So rather than labour and birth being shrouded in the unknown and thus fear I have the knowledge and education to believe in my body, to believe in the process, and to believe in myself.

While the rest of the week was mostly uneventful on Friday morning, the day before the due date, I experienced what I thought was my water breaking. Earlier that week at our midwifery appointment our midwife talked about what could happen, what to expect and when, or when not, to contact them should I go into labour. Our midwife told Luke and I that in the odd chance that my water broke and I wasn't in active labour, in other words if contractions hadn't started,were inconsistent, and hadn't gotten to the point where I was having contractions that were lasting one minute, were four minutes apart from the beginning of one to the beginning of another, and had been this consistent for an hour, then I was to relax and if possible get some rest because it could possibly take up to twenty-four hours for labour to really kick in. In addition, if it occurred during the night again try to go back to sleep and only call the midwife-on-call if I had reached the one-one-four consistency of contractions. Although I was aware of this before it was interesting to note that when a woman's water breaks it really doesn't mean that it's going to be like the movies where the water breaks and instantly that means the baby is pretty much on its way to being born. Instead, especially as it being my first time, it was more likely to take quite a few hours possibly even the full twenty-four hour period. Also, we were warned that if my water broke rather than it all come gushing out at once, it could be a slow leak where it feels like I've peed myself without the urge to pee and that I'd then want to wear pads because the leaking would most likely continue and would soak my pads. What I didn't expect was that this could possibly happen to me.
That brings us back to Friday morning.

*Note - for those of you who are squeamish or know me too personally to be comfortable with this amount and kind of information I suggest you either stop reading or get someone to brief you on the story later as even I never thought I'd be so open as to the full details of my body.

It was approximately 9:30 am, I had just finished completely draining my bladder when I crawled back into bed and settled in with a book and I felt this gush and sensation of peeing myself, but it also felt minor to the point I was unsure and thought perhaps it was just part of the extra secretions that pregnancy brings with it. About half an hour later I got up and was talking to Luke in the kitchen when I felt another gush, but this time it was large enough to soak my underwear and trickle down my leg. My eyes got huge as I looked up and proclaimed,
"My water broke." With that I rushed to the bathroom to grab some pads, sat on the toilet and even more fluid gushed out. Just so there's no confusion I would like to point out that Luke followed my into the bathroom and heard the gush for himself - so there was definitely a good amount of fluid, not some little tiny bit I was just overreacting to.
From the description that we had gotten from the midwife, the fact that I knew that the water breaking in this manner was quite normal, and that labour could still take another twenty-four hours to actually begin, I was convinced that my water really had broken. Yet, I wasn't concerned that I wasn't having contractions and figured it would be best to go about my day as planned. In this case it meant spending the day with my dad going grocery shopping and preparing freezer meals for when our baby girl made her appearance. So, perfect timing and opportunity I thought. Plus, Luke had caught a cold the night before and I thought it best to let him rest as much as he could, for me to get out of the sick environment and hang out with my dad who was healthy. As I got ready for my day I called my parents and siblings to let them know that the time had come. We were all so excited that sometime within the day or next we'd be meeting our new addition to the family. The one person I didn't call was the on-call midwife. I did call the office, but it was closed and with the information we received at our last appointment I figured it wasn't necessary to call the on-call midwife right away until things really started to progress. With that my dad picked me up around 11:00am and off shopping we went.

It was around 2:00pm that I finally decided to call the midwife to let her know my water had broken. As it turned out she was glad I had called because from the description I had given her combined with the fact that I hadn't soaked through a pad yet nor had any major contractions started, even though I was experiencing more back pressure, she said it sounded like my waters hadn't actually broken. Instead she suspected that I had only experienced an increase in liquid body fluid. I was stunned and a bit skeptical. There had been so much fluid, it wasn't as if I was over exaggerating on the amount, could I really have mistaken something as major as my water breaking?

At 4:00pm Luke and I walked up to the hospital and met the midwife in the maternity ward. The reason for going to the hospital is that they have sterile swabs and speculums for doing an internal examination that was sure not to introduce any bacteria on the chance that my water had indeed broken. In addition, the midwife would be able to put a sample of the fluid on a slide and look at it under a microscope for the cell formation that is particular to amniotic fluid and be able to positively confirm what the status was. As it turns, the midwife's suspicion was correct: my water had not broken. What we found out instead was that I had an undetected yeast infection that was creating and excreting this extra fluid. I was both confused and disappointed. Once again I had no questions, nor could I really form my thoughts, so I was relieved when Luke stated,
"I think we're both confused at how there could be so much fluid?"
The midwife affirmed that this was really quite possible, and I suppose that since they actually have a test in order to confirm if the water had actually broken it must be a common enough mistake to make. She described it like opening up cottage cheese or yogurt and the next time you go open it up it has a layer of liquid pooled on top. It sounded strange but at least it was an answer.

Walking out of the hospital I felt numb. It was a cool evening but I didn't care to even attempt putting on my jacket. It was only with Luke's insistence and help that I managed to get it on. As he was holding the jacket open for me to get my arms in I finally choked out that it may be silly because we know she was healthy and doing alright, but I was really looking forward to holding her and I was really disappointed; with that I broke down and cried while Luke wrapped his arms around me. It was such an emotional high to a big let down; it was simply too emotionally disappointing for me. This disappointment was only enhanced by embarrassment and the fact that I then had to inform everyone I'd told (family and a couple good friends) that it was a false alarm. I didn't even feel like talking, I was still on the verge of tears and emotionally drained. Thankfully on the way home Luke and I stopped off at my parents' and my dad had a meal all ready for us to take home. Although it was intended to feed us during labour, when my dad knew neither of us would have the foresight nor concentration to think of such things as feeding ourselves, it was most definitely appreciated to have a hot delicious meal ready to take home at a time when all we wanted to do was go home and rest.

As I puttered around my house that evening, in order to lift my spirit and not dwell in the gloom, I thought of reasons that made this event positive. First, Luke had a cold so this would give him time to rest and get better. Second, I was thankful that I found out that I had a yeast infection so I could treat it and have it all cleared up before my baby girl passes through; it would be horrible to give birth and have her contract her own yeast infection that could potentially present itself as diaper rash in addition to having thrush in the mouth, which she would then pass on to my breasts - it would just be a vicious cycle that would end up as, my brother-in-law so eloquently put it,
"Then it's purple baby juice everywhere!"
The third reason this was positive was that if my water had actually broken I'd have been on a twenty-four hour timeline for labour to start and if it didn't then I'd have to be medically induced which would take away the home-birth option. With these circumstances in mind I was definitely more inclined to wait another week, no matter how excited I was to hold her.

The due date has now come and gone. Luke's cold has cleared up and he has taken to poking my belly and informing our baby girl that she can come out now, that daddy's excited to meet her and gently tries to coax her by letting her know that she's missing out on the entertainment of the outside world and that we'll make it just as comfortable out here for her as it is in the womb. Although I'm still eager for her arrival for once I'm waiting patiently; Luke may be better but I'm not sure my infection has completely cleared up. However, once this medication is finished and I try a night with a clove of garlic up there then I'll be ready to start the home remedies/natural methods of getting labour to kick in. As for the clove of garlic, our midwife says to string it with some thread so you can retrieve it later. Apparently you'll immediately taste garlic, but the many women that she has recommended this to have affirmed its immediate effectiveness.

It still boggles me that I could actually have been mistaken about my water breaking. However, I have since found out that this happened to a friend of mine, except it occurred earlier in the pregnancy so it was a major relief to find out that she wasn't leaking amniotic fluid. In addition, I figure that this must happen often enough in order for there to actually be tests to confirm whether or not a woman's water has broken. This leads me to conclude that I'm not actually crazy. It may be rare, and people may just shake their heads and chuckle thinking that I'm just a first-timer getting confused and excited over nothing, but clearly I am not alone! So, for all you first timers out there be forewarned that this does occur. Therefore if it should happen to you be comforted knowing that this is more common than thought and I for one completely empathize with how confusing it can be.

My belly at 40 weeks is so large that the band on my maternity jeans no longer stays up and my maternity shirt is too short to cover it!

A gift from my Dad when I told him my water had broken

A Week of New Sensations and Learning

It's now week thirty-nine and I can't believe how the time goes by so quickly!

In the last blog entry I talked a bit about different cramps I've been experiencing; I informed my midwife about this and as it turns out I've been experiencing Braxton Hick's! Also, when I told my dad I had been getting cramps he looked at me funny said, 

"Cramps? You mean Braxton Hicks?" So, as obvious as this may have been to some it was news for me and could you blame me? After all, I have never experienced Braxton Hicks before and I'm not sure I've ever heard a description of how they feel, except that they fool some women into thinking they're in labour. Now I know. That said, at my last midwife appointment I was told that this week I would be offered a membrane sweep and as you know I had decided to forgo this option as I didn't feel in a hurry, especially with my mom being out of town, and I wasn't too crazy about the idea of a day or two of cramps. However, my Braxton Hicks had actually increased quite steadily throughout the nights, so I was now undecided: should I just go for it, or should I wait? I was already cramping, so that no longer deterred me, but if it doesn't actually activate labour unless both the woman's body and the baby are ready, then what was the point? Luke was with me during the appointment and I think he could tell that I couldn't quite make a decision, so he stepped in and asked what really were the benefits? Good question! And I was instantly relieved he had the foresight to ask the question I couldn't  form for myself. We learnt that in addition to softening the cervix women who have membrane sweeps from thirty-eight weeks on have a much higher chance of spontaneously going into labour and thus a much lower need for medical induction. That was all I needed to hear; decision made. Unfortunately, even with all the Braxton Hick's and we learnt that my baby girl is engaged, the effacement of my cervix was still at zero percent and not even minutely dilated, so that meant a membrane sweep was no longer a possibility as it needs to be at least one centimetre dilated. The good news is that it's looking like my mom will be here for the delivery of her fifth granddaughter.

As I wait I'm still trying to take advantage of the time and energy that still remains. On the one hand I have ceased my adapted at home workout sessions as they've just become too cumbersome; however, I continue to do some stretches and exercises that I have found to help both with keeping up my back's strength and ability to bear the extra weight of my expanding belly and my balance. As a result I believe this has allowed me to continue attending gentle aqua-fit. I seriously attest my body's strength to the combination of these stretches and exercises, as gentle as they may be. And, although I need to take many "coffee-breaks", the benefit is that I'm able to continue gardening (this week Luke and I planted broccoli, parsnips and cucumbers) and weed the front flower patch. In addition, as a special treat, when it was my nephew Joshua's turn to spend the night I had both the energy and strength to walk down a couple blocks to the dollar-store and treat him to a few packages of toys dinosaurs and turtles that we could play with together back at my place.

There are definitely times I can tell that I am beginning to slow down and more recently have felt more irritable and antisocial than usual. My sister-in-law warned me, and Luke as a heads-up, that as my hormones change in preparation for labour it was quite possible that this would happen. Yet, it has been fun taking the time to be social. For instance, after playing dinosaurs, Joshua and I both had fun making grape juice with the Magic Bullet Juicer for  real grape juice popsicles - which makes quite the tasty treat. Even when I was tired and really didn't feel up to being social, with Luke's encouragement to get out while I could, I had a great homemade iced-cappaccino and banana muffins visit with my childhood friend Amanda. The visit went so well that when Luke sent me a text asking if my mood had lifted, Amanda and I had a good laugh over it. In fact she said to let him know she never would have guessed I left the house grumpy. In addition to local socializing, Luke and I even managed an evening out to North Vancouver for fresh vegetable juice with one friend and pizza with another couple, who have a seven month old son that we were finally able to meet! They even blessed us with a new jolly jumper - which I am pretty excited to have aquired. And, last night Luke and I had friends over for appetizers, desert, and excellent company for what could potentially be our last "party" before the two of us become three. 

Obviously I am not sure what this next week will bring. I am happy to announce that while the Braxton Hicks have tapered off I have experienced actual contractions the last two nights. For those who are first time moms, a primigravida in medical terms (in contrast to a multigravida who have moved on to subsequent pregnancies) or a heifer (a first time pregnant cow) in farm terminology as my dad so eloquently called me in the beginning of my pregnancy (he meant it in the most loving way as he has a soft spot for these wide eyed and sweet tempered first time moms whom he sees as needing extra love and care) a contraction feels more like a piercing pain and your entire belly goes hard like a bowling ball; you may even feel the baby squirming down further into the pelvis once the contraction ceases - I did and what a neat and trippy  feeling it is. 

What progression will occur this week? I haven't a clue and that's part of the aggravation and yet excitement of the the anticipation. Soon we will meet this little miraculous creation baking in my womb; until then it's one day, one visit, and one more chance to embrace this adventure of pregnancy. 

At the moment the one question that intrigues Luke and I is: How big do we think she'll be? Although I'm only 5'3" and he's 6'4" as babies we were both over nine pounds, and my sister's first two babies were over over nine pounds, so I really assumed that I my babies would be too; however, I also assumed that I had no chance of having the cute baby bump, I really thought I'd be enormous! Yet, I think that in fact I do look good and I do have a cute belly. But, judging by it's size, neither Luke nor I can really imagine a very large baby tucked in there. An interesting thought that will only be answered when she arrives, for now any guesses?

39 week belly

Spring Ornaments

Spring has almost sprung

Apple blossoms

Blossom

Luke and Oscar testing out the Boba baby wrap

Proud Papa bought his daughter an owl toque

The Waiting Game

I've just completed my thirty-seventh week of pregnancy. My baby girl is considered full term and could be born anytime within the next four weeks. So, the waiting game begins. In a way I completely expect her to stay safe, warm and cozy in my womb until closer to the forty-two week mark considering that I myself was a month overdue and each of my sister's three kids were past the forty week mark as well; it seems as if genetics are guaranteeing a later birth. So, on the one hand I'm completely prepared for my baby girl to come closer to the end of April and possibly even in May; however, since Luke's Nana's birthday is on the sixteenth of April that's the date I'm personally hoping for.

During my midwife appointment I was told that at my next appointment I would be offered a membrane sweep which is a very low type of intervention to get labour started. I was informed that it is slightly uncomfortable and may cause cramping that could last either for the day, but possibly the next day as well. The nice thing about this method is that it softens the cervix and if both your baby and your body is ready to go into labour then the cramping may give your body that extra boost to kick start the process. I'm not opposed to the idea, although I'm not too particular about cramping, but I have decided to forego this procedure as my mother is going to Grande Prairie Alberta for the week visiting and helping my brother and sister-in-law who had the home birth five weeks ago. Depending on who you are, and how many times you've done this before, you may or may not choose to have someone support you during your labour; that person could simply be your partner, or you may want additional support such as a family member, a friend or perhaps a doula. For myself I just want my husband and my mommy. In addition to my mom being gone until the fifteenth my last day of class and due date for my final paper is also the fifteenth. So, I've had a little chat with my baby girl asking her to please wait until at least the sixteenth. However, should she choose to come early then my sister Zoë will be stepping in and helping out, obviously she's hoping her little niece comes earlier. In the end, my baby girl will come when she's good and ready and I don't have any plans to stop her nor do I have plans to force her.   I am a firm believer that if I try to force my baby to come before she's ready then not only will I be stressing her out but I'll be stressing my own body out and all that stress will probably just lead to a chain of invasive interventions that not only serve for a painful labour but aren't necessarily healthy for either of us. So I wait.

As a warning: if you're the queasy type or just don't need all the pleasant details, I would suggest skipping this paragraph. As a note to first time moms and anyone else who is interested, I would like to say that for the past four days I have had two different kinds of cramps. I would not say it's false labour at all, but definitely my body beginning to prepare me and get ready to go through the motions. The first cramp is the most common and I usually have it twice a day and it's the type that feels like I'm getting my period and the pressure goes all the way down into my pelvis. The second type I've only experienced twice and it feels similar to desperately needing to sit on the toilet, not quite as bad as having diarrhoea but a similar feeling, except there's nothing. This makes me wonder how long this wait will really be? Thankfully I'm still very much enjoying this second half of pregnancy, even though after five months of living with it I am tired of constantly feeling the pain of my lower abdominal muscles stretching and pulling apart.

During this time of waiting I am taking to heart the suggestion to spend the time to do things and visit with family and friends while I can before I have a baby to care for. This past week Luke and I took advantage of the break in weather and went fishing with Oscar. 

Luke fishing in Agassiz

Oscar fetching in Agassiz

Pretty Pink Pedicure

Later on Luke treated me to his services and

gave me a pedicure 

and a couple days later a foot massage - it was lovely. 

I'm continuing to stay active by doing some simple exercises here at home and attending gentle aqua-fit at the local Y a couple times a week (of course I indulge and spend five to ten minutes in the hot-tub sitting up against a jet; it feels glorious and gently relieves the back pressure I've been experiencing the last couple weeks as my belly continues to get bigger). Also, I have decided to have my niece and nephew come spend the night one last time before the baby arrives. In a strange way, however much I am looking forward to meeting my baby, I am feeling a sense of loss when I consider who I am as an aunt and how much the dynamics will change once my baby is here. In fact the dynamics have already changed; I used to be the really fun energetic Aunty Erin who would chase them, have tickle fights, play hide-and-go-seek and jump on the trampoline with them; now I still give them lots of undivided attention, but I no longer have the energy to do the things I did and even when my energy does come back my attention will then be divided. So in a sense I am sad to say goodbye to old Aunty Erin. I realize that it won't completely change and that I'll still have fun spending the time I can give with my niece and nephew, but in the meantime it means a lot to have them come stay with me one last time. My niece spent this past Thursday night and we had fun watching The Lorax, playing with my dog Oscar, reading her a bedtime story, going over to visit Grammy, and colouring together. Probably the cutest thing that happened was when she saw me in my pyjamas with my belly sticking out and exclaimed with wide brown eyes, "Oh wow you've got a big belly!" and then went on to say that I should sing praises over it so I'll have a good and easy birth because that's what her mom said. 

"Oh wow you've got a big belly!"

Oscar actually cuddling up to my belly

Probably the best advice I've received and it came from my five year old niece; thanks Olecia I'll take that advice to heart :) 

This has been my week and I look forward to what the next will bring.

One Month Or So To Go

I'm not sure how midwifery visitations and appointments work elsewhere in Canada, however here in BC most appointments occur at the midwifery clinic. However, during your pregnancy if you are planning a home birth then during week thirty-six you will receive a home visit. I recently found out from my brother and sister-in-law that this is different in Alberta where every appointment with a midwife occurs at home; however, whereas midwifery care is completely funded through our provincial health care, this is not the case in Alberta. Midwifery is a recognized, registered, regulated and legal form of maternity care in Alberta, but unlike BC it isn't covered - which means those who choose this care pay for it themselves. I don't know what the typical going rate is, or if there is a sliding scale, but I have been quoted one figure of $3000.00. So, I suppose if I were paying for maternity care myself I would expect and appreciate that all appointments happened in the comfort of my own home. Thankfully, I live in BC (although more home visits would definitely be preferable although perhaps unrealistic for the midwives with full clinics and calendars).

Since this past week has been my thirty-sixth week of pregnancy and am planning to attempt a home birth, I had our home visit this past Tuesday. In a sense it was the most comfortable and relaxed appointment I've had, at the same time both Luke and I felt like we had to make sure our house was tidy and that both our floors and bathroom were clean. In some odd sense it was as if not only were we going to review different possibilities like where delivery would most likely occur so that the midwife could set up her equipment in a convenient location and of course to review what could arise that would mandate a transfer to the hospital, but also we sort of felt like this was also the moment to prove that we could provide a safe environment for our baby and that our ability to be good parents would be approved. It's a funny perception and one totally based on the opinion of someone else, but it also shows how much we look for approval from society even before the baby is even here. Our suspicions were unfounded though as we really only spent time in our front room and our midwife didn't even use the bathroom.

Probably the most interesting thing that occurred during our visit was our miniature daschund dog's reaction. Our dog, Oscar, can be quite the ornery old man when meeting new people. With Luke and I he's very sweet: likes to cuddle, do pack howls and groom us by liking our legs; yet, when it comes to newcomers he's usually very apprehensive, barks and or growls, and is typically very suspicious. However, he was unusually very quiet and only briefly sniffed around our midwife's ankles before going to sit with Luke. While the three of us were discussing different possibilities for labour I asked what experience she had had at other home births were pets had been present. Her response was that most people ended up putting their pets in a separate room so as to not bother the labouring mother and that dogs in particular could be unpredictable in how they react to mom going through such intensity. This pretty much confirmed it for me as I had told Luke that I did not want Oscar present because I was positive that he would either start to bark or howl along with my groaning, or even worse when either squatting or kneeling through contractions have him come bounding up and tossing me his ball and excitedly thinking that I'm in the perfect position to play fetch (just like he used to do at the beginning of my pregnancy when I'd be knelt over the toilet puking and crying). I'm not sure Oscar will survive me if he's present during my labour. Well, just after asking this question my midwife measured the size of my growing belly (a healthy thirty-five centimetres) and then listened to the heartbeat; with that Oscar began to have a fit! We all burst into laughter - confirmation that Oscar shouldn't be present during my labour and he'd be better off hanging out with my dad down the street.

About half way through the week I noticed that its been getting harder for me to fall asleep. I'm not sure if this is pregnancy related or not because it isn't that my growing belly has become uncomfortable (although I have really begun to feel the weight of it on my back as I walk) or that always sleeping on my side puts a lot of pressure on my hips, its actually all in my feet. It may sound strange, but it's as if my feet have a mind of their own. As soon as I lay down my feet start to tingle. They aren't exactly in pain although they seem to appreciate a good massage. No, it's more like they're wide awake and just want to run. It really is distracting. One night I was up until after 5am, the last couple nights it was 1am, and of course I kept having to get up every hour to go pee. Thankfully, probably due to sheer exhaustion, I finally fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow and I think I only had to get up twice to go pee the entire night! It was amazing. I suppose on a positive note if it is pregnancy related at least I didn't have a crying baby to contend with as well; that will come soon enough - anywhere from now until approximately (but hopefully not this long)  five weeks from now! I really can't believe these last couple weeks are going so quickly!

Probably the highlight of this week was having my belly photo-shoot done. I don't have much to say about this, rather I have pictures to share. But, I would like to say thank you to my friend Krista for coming out, taking all these great pictures and spending the evening with us. It was a treat.