Welcome, Violet!

Well, I most certainly did not think that my 32 week pregnancy update post would turn out to be my LAST pregnancy update post, but that's exactly what happened. Our second daughter, Violet Eve, just couldn't wait any longer and decided to make her surprise appearance about 4 1/2 weeks ahead of schedule. I never thought I'd have a preemie - Tessa was 5 days overdue and so I just expected to go over with Violet too, and was actually completely fine with going over, since we had lots of things we had hoped to have done before her arrival. But God had a different plan, and I've learned that no matter what it seems or feels like at the time, His timing is always perfect.

So, without further ado, here's the story of Violet's unexpected arrival....

32.5 weeks - my last pregnant selfie

Saturday, October 11...

We had planned on using the long weekend (Canadian Thanksgiving) to paint our basement. Cam started the taping and priming by himself in the morning, while I went out and did a few errands with Tessa. We had lunch and I put Tessa down for her afternoon nap, then got changed and headed downstairs to help with the painting. We worked until about 3:30 that afternoon (I painted for a total of about 2 hours), then we had to get cleaned up, wake Tessa, and head over to Cam's aunt & uncle's for Thanksgiving dinner.

We had just sat down to dinner when I suddenly felt a small trickle of fluid, almost like I had lost control of my bladder for a second (if you've ever been pregnant you know that that's not completely out of the question!). I got up and went to the washroom, to see if I could figure out what was going on. I wasn't totally sure at that point, and I didn't want to make a big deal of it, so I just thought "hmm, that was strange", and went back to the table and finished dinner and dessert. The trickle of fluid happened a few more times throughout dinner, but I wasn't having contractions or any other signs that this could possibly be my water breaking or the beginning of labor, although by this point I had a strong feeling that that was exactly what was happening.

We left almost as soon as dinner was over. Cam got Tessa to bed while I made a phone call to the labor and delivery unit at the hospital. I explained what was going on, and the nurse suggested that I come in to be checked. Looking back, it seems kind of silly to me that I had to call and ask what to do. It was just so different from how labor with Tessa went (with her, I had been having contractions for hours before my water broke, and when it did, it was literally a huge gush of fluid - there was no question that it was my water breaking) and it was so early that I think I was in denial. I grabbed a few things - I hadn't even packed a hospital bag yet, thinking I had at least another month to get it done! - and drove myself to the hospital, part of me still in denial that I was possibly going into labor, the other part fairly certain that we would be having a baby much, much sooner than we expected.

I got to the hospital and up to labor and delivery by about 9pm and by 10 it was confirmed that my water had broken and my doctor had admitted me and ordered that I be started on IV antibiotics for possible group B strep - I hadn't had the test done yet, it usually happens around the 36 week mark. The plan was to wait overnight to see if my body would kick into labor naturally, and if not, I'd be induced in the morning.

I laid awake most of the night, hoping and praying that contractions would start, worrying about the health and safety of our baby, and fearing that being induced so early could mean a long and difficult labor and possibly interventions I did not want. I felt guilty, that somehow this was my fault (my first thought was that it was the painting, and I regretted that I had done it), and if anything were to happen to our baby as a result, I would have carried that with me forever. I felt sad too, that my pregnancy was ending so abruptly, with no warning. I felt like I was going to be missing out on the anticipation and excitement that comes in the last few days of pregnancy leading up to the due date. I did not feel ready for this.

Terrible selfies happen when you're bored and can't sleep in the hospital...

Sunday, October 12...

I was up early after only a few hours of sleep, and still no contractions. I knew I needed rest so I'd be ready for a potentially long labor, but I also didn't want to just sit there waiting, so I asked my nurse if I could get up and walk around to see if I could bring on some contractions. They made me wait until they could check with my doctor. They finally got in touch with him around 8am and I got the go-ahead to leave the unit. I wandered the hospital hallways for the next hour with no sign of anything resembling a contraction. I was getting discouraged since I knew I was on the clock, and we were already past the 12 hour mark since my water had broken. My doctor finally showed up at around 10am to get the induction started. He checked me first and I was 1-2cm dilated, but my cervix was still extremely high, so high that he couldn't feel if baby was head down so off to ultrasound I went. The ultrasound confirmed that baby was head down, thankfully, so we started with Cervidil to try and get my cervix ready, and once again, I walked and waited and waited and walked.

My parents arrived to our house by early afternoon to be with Tessa (they live about 4 hours away) so Cam could come to the hospital to be with me. It was nice to finally have some company while I waited for things to get moving. The day was dragging on and I was really bored (so bored that I had already read through 2 entire Hollywood gossip magazines, cover to cover - not like me at all) so it was good to have someone to talk to and walk around with.

By around 3:30pm, I was starting to feel some mild cramping, and I couldn't help but watch the clock - the cramps were coming about 5 minutes apart and lasting about 30-45 seconds. I was happy that I was finally feeling something that resembled regular contractions, but I didn't allow myself to get too excited, since I was pretty sure things were going to take their sweet time.

The rest of the afternoon went by with little change. I had supper in my room, then Cam and I walked downstairs to the cafeteria, where my parents and sister had stopped by with Tessa. I hadn't seen her in almost 24 hours - probably the longest I'd ever gone without seeing her since she was born! We sat and visited for a while and as we sat there, my contractions were getting noticeably stronger. I had to stop talking and grab the edge of the table for a few, and walking back up to labor and delivery afterwards was definitely more difficult than it had been earlier. I took this as a good sign that things were progressing.

The next couple hours seemed to go by fairly quickly, with contractions coming quicker and getting stronger. I tried a few different positions, but couldn't really find anything that was comfortable, so I alternated between sitting on the bed and standing beside it. It was around 9pm when I was starting to have a hard time coping with the contractions, so I asked my nurse for some morphine. With my previous labor, I had taken one dose of morphine and found that although it didn't really help with the pain, it allowed me to relax a bit more, which allowed my body to do what it needed to do. My nurse agreed, but wanted to check my cervix again before she called the doctor for the order. I was 3cm and still quite high (remember, it was about 9pm). I was a little disappointed as I was hoping for a bigger number and I resigned myself to the fact that it was going to be a long night ahead.

My nurse came back in a few minutes with the morphine, and as soon as she hung it on my IV pole, I felt the need to lie on my left side. It didn't take long - maybe 15 minutes - before my contractions were coming one on top of the other and I remember telling Cam that I didn't think I could do it anymore.

At this point, I was still in an assessment room, where I had been since the night before. The nurse came back and told me that there was a delivery room ready for me and we should move, but the last thing I wanted to do at that point was get up and walk down the hall. I did it anyway and by the time we got to the delivery room - less than a minute - my contractions were accompanied by the overwhelming urge to push. I sat down on the edge of the bed to take a few deep breaths, but my nurse firmly told me that I needed to lie down so she could check me. I was in complete shock but also relieved when she told me I was at 8cm. Out of nowhere, 2 or 3 more nurses appeared and were getting things set up, ready for delivery. I couldn't believe it was happening so fast (and kudos to those nurses for the way they jumped into action and were on top of things so quickly and efficiently - those girls know what they're doing!). I overheard my nurse talking to another nurse, and heard them say that my doctor was about 20 minutes away and that they were going to have to call another doctor, who was already on the unit, in another delivery, over to deliver our baby, since my doctor was not going to make it.

A few minutes later the other doctor showed up, and gave me the go ahead to start pushing. It took maybe 8-10 pushes, and at 9:59pm, Violet Eve was born. She was 5lbs, 15oz, so tiny, but so beautiful and perfect. A nurse from NICU and the pediatrician did a quick check, then I got to hold her skin to skin for a few minutes before her and Cam went off to NICU.

Her arrival was such a surprise in every way - from deciding to come 4 1/2 weeks early, to how quickly she came once my labor got going. It was a whirlwind, and I spent the next two or three days in shock and disbelief over how it had all happened. It was an unexpected, but beautiful way to celebrate Thanksgiving, with the arrival of our healthy baby girl.

 

Embracing my Mommy-Shape

     This letter to Kate Middleton was all over my Facebook feed for a couple days last week. It was posted and shared by many of my mom friends who obviously loved it as much as I did. If you haven't seen it yet click the link above and go read it - it's well worth your time.

     It's no secret that women of all sizes and shapes struggle with having a healthy body image. There's always someone who looks better, is thinner, has nicer clothes or hair or whatever. We're constantly comparing ourselves to everyone else and finding that we usually come up short. What's astonishing to me is that this dislike of our bodies continues through pregnancy and beyond. I've had conversations with other new moms about how we need to lose the baby weight and firm up the mommy-tummy. We look at ourselves in the mirror and all we see are stretch marks and saggy, soft bellies.

40 weeks pregnant, 5 days before Tessa arrived

    
     I can remember those first awkward weeks after giving birth where absolutely nothing in my closet fit - my maternity stuff was too big and my non-maternity stuff was too small or just didn't fit my new shape properly. There was no point going shopping for new clothes because I knew my body was in an adjustment period and I had no idea how long it would take for things to stabilize. I complained about how I looked, forgetting that my body had been stretched and reshaped over 9 months to accomodate a new life and had just performed its most amazing and miraculous feat to date. If ever there was a time to give myself a break, this was it.

     So I did. Slowly, I got used to my new shape, and now, for the first time in a VERY long time, I can honestly say that I'm ok with my body (other than those pesky stretch marks!). I don't love it, but I'm happy with it and so thankful for it when I remind myself that it gave us our beautiful, healthy daughter.

      Some of us may get back to our exact pre-pregnancy shape and size, others will not. Either way our bodies will be different in some way and I think it's time to embrace these new bodies. Bodies that have miraculously carried and nurtured life, endured hours (maybe days) of labor, delivered beautiful babies into the world, and are now nourishing, comforting, protecting, teaching, and loving our children. There is nothing more beautiful than that.

Hello!!

     Hi everyone and welcome! I'll be honest and say that I'm a little surprised that I find myself wanting to blog, but since becoming a mom just over 2 months ago, I feel like I constantly have thoughts and ideas and things in my head that I want to write down and remember (especially during 4am feedings!), and since I'm not really a journaller (is that a word?) I thought this might work. It's also a way of keeping our families and friends who live far away updated and in the loop. We'll see how long it lasts!

     I feel like I need to first give an explanation as to this blog's title. Those of you that know Spanish realize that I'm referring to my baby as "my little creature", which may come across as a bit odd. Before Tessa was born, her dad and I read a parenting book and in it, the author explains that the Spanish use the word "criatura" to describe newborn babies, because initially they seem so helpless and unprepared for life outside the womb. Once Tessa arrived and we had spent a few hours watching her make her funny faces and noises and jerky, uncoordinated movements, we found ourselves agreeing with this comparison and began affectionately calling her our little creature. So that's where the title comes from. It's in no way meant to be cold or cruel, in fact, it's very much a term of endearment that we occasionally use for our precious baby.

     I thought a good place to start off would be with Tessa's birth story for those who haven't already heard it.

     Tessa was due to arrive on January 5, 2013. Our doctor had sent us for a non-stress test that day and during the test I was having fairly regular Braxton Hicks contractions. They continued for the next 2-3 days and then stopped altogether. I had another non-stress test on January 9, and during that test I didn't even register one contraction. So I was mentally prepared to have to wait until our scheduled induction date of January 14.

     I went home and carried on with my day. By supper time I was starting to feel some mild cramping, but didn't really think much of it, as I had already been having similar cramping on and off for about a week or two. It was a Wednesday, and as he usually does on Wednesday evenings, Cam went to play basketball. I was feeling restless and didn't want to sit at home by myself, so I went to Walmart. I had a few things to pick up and I also wanted to walk to try and get things moving. By the time I got home around 8:30 the cramping was definitely getting worse, but was still very manageable. I was able to time a few contractions at about 5-6 minutes apart by the time we went to bed. I fell asleep around 11 but woke up at about 2:30am with very regular (3-5 minutes), but what I considered mild contractions. I knew I likely wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep and I didn't want to wake Cam, so I went to the living room and tried to get comfy on the couch so I could maybe doze off again. 

     I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep a wink the rest of the night. By 5am the contractions were getting considerably more painful but still right around 3-5 minutes apart. Cam got up around 7 since he was scheduled to sub that day. We discussed whether or not he should go in or call and cancel his day. I wasn't feeling the need to rush off to the hospital just yet, but we decided that it was probably best if he stayed home just in case. We were taking our time getting the last few things packed (mostly because I was starting to have trouble walking during contractions), and at about 9am I was in the bathroom grabbing my toothbrush when I heard a small pop and felt a gush. Yep, my water broke. I won't go into much more detail about that, but we kicked it into high gear to get out the door to the hospital.

     We arrived and got all checked in and settled in the assessment room. My contractions were coming fast and strong and I was having a tough time relaxing and breathing through them. The nurse checked my cervix and told me I was only at about 2-3 cm, so I figured were were in for a long day ahead. We also discovered that there was some meconium (baby poo) in my amniotic fluid, which meant that a team of NICU nurses had to be present for the birth in case she had swallowed any and had trouble breathing. They moved us to a labor room and the nurse started asking me what I wanted to do about the pain. We had already decided ahead of time that we wanted to try for a natural, medication-free birth if at all possible. Being a nurse myself, I know that medications can be a very good thing and they definitely have their place in labor & delivery. I also know that sometimes things happen that are beyond our control, and often interventions are necessary to save lives. At the end of the day, my goal was to have a safe delivery and a healthy baby, however that needed to happen. But a big part of me also wanted to be able to fully experience the birth of my child, pain and all. Plus, the idea of an epidural just weirds me out - not a fan of having a giant needle stuck into my spine. So, we talked it over between us and with the nurse, and I agreed on taking a dose of morphine. Within minutes of getting the morphine, I was much more relaxed. It didn't touch the pain, but I was able to rest and relax more between contractions, and breathe a little easier through them.

     Our doctor showed up around 1pm and checked my cervix again. This time I was at 5-6 cm. We figured I still had at least 4-5 hours to go (the average dilation rate for a first time mom is about 1 cm/hour), so the nurse started asking again about pain medication and this time she brought up the "E" word. I agreed to a second dose of morphine, but in the time it took the nurse to go get it and come back to our room, I told her I felt like I needed to push (this was about 1:45pm). So she quickly checked me again before giving the morphine. She told me I was millimeters away from being fully dilated and had me roll onto my side which allowed the last bit of dilation to happen. So in 45 minutes I went from 5-6 cm to 10 cm and pushing. No time for more drugs or the epidural, to my relief. I pushed for a little over an hour, and it would have been quicker, but they had to get me to stop pushing for about 15 minutes (hardest thing EVER!) while we waited for the doctor to return to deliver her. Tessa Mae made her grand entrance into this world at 2:58pm on Thursday, January 10, kicking and screaming, weighing in at 8lb 1oz. She checked out totally fine and got to hang out with dad for a bit while the doctor stitched me up. The best feeling in the world was having my brand new, beautiful baby girl placed on my chest and getting to hold her in my arms for the first time.

From this:

To this:

We are so blessed!!