When 2 years pass, and the dust has settled, wounds have
healed, pain is forgotten, life has become an adventure of the three musketeers.
That is when 3 words will change everything. “How about another?”.
That is where we found ourselves as Henry’s second birthday
came. The next thing you know it is Valentine’s Day and I am sitting with the
boys hovering over me, waiting for that second line. It never showed. It was
negative. Seems the years that passed, along with a society of instant
gratification, left me unable to follow the instructions (not that I read them)
and know that it takes a bit of time for that second line to show. So when
another week had passed and I still hadn’t read the instructions, I cried as
yet again there was no second line. Minutes passed as I cried and the boys
tried to comfort me, only for me to look up through tears and see that coveted
second line. Our bathroom hadn’t seen so much joy.
I was so sick. My belly grew so much faster. I worried Henry
would decide now was the perfect time to start talking and spill my secret. We
had the perfect announcement, and it felt so good to go home for Easter and
finally tell people (so I wouldn’t have to lie about how I was feeling, or make
up stories when I couldn’t make it out somewhere). Things were relatively the
same this time around, though emotions were SO much higher.
We had spent time before getting pregnant looking up ways to
have a girl. Studied and prepared. Pink ribbons, Chinese gender charts, and the
like. Pregnancy was so the same, yet so different. We knew we were having a
girl. I shed a single tear of overwhelmed joy during the (3 HOUR) ultrasound.
It was a girl, and she was stubborn. Sounds about right. She was so
uncooperative at every appointment, never letting us hear her heart beat, and
hiding behind the pelvic bone.
Least she be out done by her brothers eventful entry to the
world, she made herself an even more unlikely story holder.
She was fast, like these kids are actually racing out of me,
Fast and Furious a Laura Birth Story. She was here in 6 minutes. SERIOUSLY.
We were lucky enough to have another home birth, though it
was up in the air until the end. The midwives discussed controlling my labour
this time around, even saying that I might not feel contractions until my water
breaks and the baby pops out. That, though enticing to some, was a very scary
thought. I met with the midwife the morning of the birth, had my 2nd
stretch and sweep (it took a total of 5 to get things going), made plans for
check ins for the rest of the day, and then waited. Kyle stayed home from work,
Mamaz and Jess came up while we were at the appointment, and we spent the day
outside doing all the fall yard work. Exciting and totally the way everyone
does it right? We made dinner (which I didn’t eat), and then went for walks out
front of the house. In the excitement I forgot the visiting teachers were
coming, so as the sun set and contractions got timeable, I had a nice little
visit to take my mind off things. The midwives broke my water at 9:35, and man
did that kick the contraction intensity up, and the idea that I may not feel contractions
right out the window. Though in the throes of labour I kept busy watching tv
and answering the seemingly endless questions Henry had. Labouring with a
toddler and making sure you don’t show pain or scare said toddler is seriously
the hardest thing. I lasted the better part of an hour up and about before I
called it and said I was going to lay in bed and I wanted to push. At first I
was told I couldn’t lay down, but I could rest my head on a pillow on the bed.
Never in the history of man has a pillow and sheets felt as soft and plush and
comfy as mine did in that moment. Laying my head only lasted 1 contraction. The
midwives said not to push or they would have to take my underwear, seemed like
a perfect time to announce I was hot (seriously it was like all of a sudden)
and try to rip all my clothes off. In the commotion of a less than graceful
de-robe I got myself up in bed and laying down. Man that felt good, the
satisfaction was mighty. I can remember the midwife saying slow down, stop, and
then looking to Kyle who just shrugged knowing I wasn’t about to listen. I can
remember time slowing as they said the cord was around her neck, a good enough
reason for me to slow and stop. And at 10:32 Carrot entered the world. Ushered
in by sighs of relief from Mom, Dad, Aunt Jess and Grand-Mamaz, and an “ew uck
Mama poops dirty” from Henry (yes Henry watched the whole thing play out, and
no it did not traumatize him). Toddlers really know how to take that last shred
of dignity away.
She was so soft and I cuddled her so hard those first
moments together. I drank up every last detail. Her smell, her little
everything, her dark hair.
This time I took the stitches, no need to go through all
that granuloma stuff again. A word to wise “a sprinkling of freezing” is NOT
enough. Boy that was more painful than a baby coming out. It hurt more than a
doctor putting a scalpel in there without freezing.
Much like with Henry, it took us a couple days to name our
little Carrot. Henry had picked the name Alice back in June when we found out
she was indeed a she (his second pick was Pink Mario). We had this name on our
list when we didn’t know Henry was a boy so it was towards the top of our list
this whole pregnancy. When she was born we knew she was an Alice, the snag was
the middle name. I had a name that I liked and wanted, but it was long. Kyle
had 2 which were short but he couldn’t decide which he preferred. Henry wasn’t
much help with deciding. We waited until Jess came back up and laid everything
out. She gave us her opinion, and after more thought and discussion we came to
Alice Leah. Again like with Henry we went with short timeless family names.
No comments:
Post a Comment