Baby Baby Don't Be Late World Is Ending I Can't Change The Way I Feel About You Now - Part 1

I woke up on July 25th feeling crampy and annoyed. I'd been feeling crampy and annoyed all week though, so I just got up and carried on with my morning. I had a doctor's appointment at 10 and since my doctor wanted to discuss induction, Shawn had taken the morning off work to go with me.

I had no idea what contractions were going to feel like. I mean, I knew that active labour would be painful but I didn't know what to expect with early labour. It wasn't until we left for the doctor and I had to sit still in the car for 15 minutes that I realized that I was in labour. Those 15 minutes were torture (which is laughable now, considering just how intense and painful real labour ended up being.)

My doctor confirmed that I was in labour and told me I was 2cm dilated. She recommended that we go for a walk because her office is right across the street from the hospital and she predicted that I'd want some pain relief pretty quickly. Being a stubborn asshole, I asked Shawn to take me home. I didn't want to go to the hospital at 2cm dilated. I knew that I wouldn't be admitted until I was at least 3cm and I didn't want to be the wimp who showed up begging for drugs before I could even be admitted.

So Shawn took me home and made me chicken noodle soup while I tried to watch television to take my mind off the pain. I lasted an hour before I was begging Shawn to take me to the hospital.

Shawn and I took a childbirth class a few weeks before Grady was born. The midwife who ran the class drilled into us that we couldn't go to the hospital before we reached 4-1-1: contractions that were 4 minutes apart, were 1 minute in duration, and had followed that pattern for 1 hour. She even gave us a magnet with the 4-1-1 information on it to hang on our fridge as a reminder. Which would have been really helpful and great, had my labour even remotely resembled that. My contractions came fast and hard with only 45 - 90 seconds separating them. Also, they didn't hit a minute in duration until I was well into active labour. I was so focused on the 4-1-1 rule that I started panicking on the way to the hospital, convinced that the short space separating my contractions meant that I was further along than we expected and I would end up having a baby on the side of the road.

And then we got to the hospital and learned that I was still only 2cm dilated.

I felt defeated. I'd been labouring hard (or rather, I thought I'd been labouring hard because I had no idea how hard labour would become) for over an hour since leaving my doctor's office and I was no further along. A nurse offered me a morphine shot and even though I felt like a failure for accepting it, I did. It turned out to be a wise decision. After being monitored for a short while to make sure I reacted well to the morphine, I was allowed to go back home. The morphine didn't take away the pain but it took the edge off and allowed me to sleep for three glorious hours.

More to come...

We Get To Carry Each Other Carry Each Other One

Grady turned one month old on Friday. It seems like just yesterday he was born but at the same time I feel like he's always been here. The hours are long but the days are flying by.

The physical recovery was something I was prepared for and it turned out to be much easier than I expected. What I wasn't expecting was how long it would take me to recover emotionally. Not just from the hormones or the intense feelings of becoming a mom and being responsible for this tiny, helpless baby, but also from a birth experience that left me feeling helpless.

I think the hardest part is not feeling like me anymore. I will never be the same person as I was before Grady was born. And that's not a bad thing. It's just been difficult to figure out how to be good for him when I don't even know who I am.

I wake up to this face every day, though, so life is definitely good.

You're Only The Best I Ever Had

Dear Shawn,

Three years ago we did this:

Nine days ago we did this:

It just keeps getting better and better.

Love you, dude.

You're What's Happenin' Baby

It took a while but he's here. All 8lbs 6.5 ounces of him.


Grady Shawn arrived on July 26th at 1:07am (the exact time of his cousin's birth, just 23 days later.)


More details to follow, just as soon as I can tear myself away from these chubby cheeks.

Now I Was Sitting Waiting Wishing That You Believed In Superstitions

The pregnancy iPhone app I downloaded on a whim at the start of my pregnancy tells me that today Willie is roughly the size of a pumpkin. My first part-time job in highschool was actually at a pumpkin patch and you guys, I have seen some freakishly large pumpkins.

Last Monday, my doctor told me to go ahead and make this week's appointment but that she would be "shocked" if I actually made it that long without giving birth. Which was exciting to hear at the time but is now just massively annoying, seeing as this week's appointment is in an hour.

I know that due dates are not an exact science and Willie will come when he's ready and I'm lucky to have a full-term baby, etc. I know. I'm just having a bit of a Monday morning pity party. Who wants to join me? What's currently chapping your ass?

He Sang Nursery Rhymes To Paralyse

When we moved, the second bedroom was already decorated as a nursery. The previous owners left the tree decal on the wall and we decided that leaving it up would be easier than taking it down. We didn't really have a plan for the nursery, though, apart from not wanting to spend a lot of money. This week we finally pulled the room together:

I dragged Shawn to Ikea's midnight madness a few weeks ago and we snagged the crib for $59 (marked down from $199.) The dresser was in our old bedroom but didn't fit in our new bedroom. The clock is my favourite nursery purchase.

The Harley Davidson lamp is Shawn's favourite nursery purchase. It can be used as a lamp or a night light (the headlight and brake lights light up.) I actually made the wooden airplane when I was a kid and my mom saved it for me.

The changing table was a bit of a sore spot for Shawn. He thought a change table is an unneeded luxury. He also didn't want to pack up his electric drum kit that was occupying that space. Fortunately my parents have a basement of extra furniture they saved from when we were kids and they gave us the dresser for free. Shawn can't argue with free. I bought a change pad for the top and claimed victory. The prints on the wall are the result of an afternoon spent on Etsy. The shelves are more freebies from my parents' basement.

We bought a glider and felt like a pair of 80-year olds doing so. I'm not going to lie, though; I freaking love the glider. It's just so ... glidey.

So now we just wait. My due date is tomorrow. I'm uncomfortable but I've not yet reached the point of needing Willie to get out. Mainly I'm just tired. Tired and enjoying some quiet time with the pups before our world is turned upside down.

You Can Kill A Lot Of Time If You Really Put Your Mind To It

Willie is due in a week. One week. I'm finally on maternity leave, trying to get the nursery organized, and failing miserably at staying focused. My head is in the clouds. Part of me wants Willie to stay put where's he safe and protected. And then there's the part of that is almost giddy at the thought of having my body to myself. (Which isn't an entirely reasonable thought, I know, seeing as I'm hoping to be able to nurse Willie.) There are a lot of unknowns in my immediate future. I'm trying to savour each day that I have and not wish my time away. Willie will arrive when he's good and ready. All I can do is wait.