So what a year it's been. This past year has been such a blessing and such a mess all at the same time. While I was prepared more to handle a baby the second time around, having two kids is a whole different ball game. But its my youngest's first birthday today and I wanted to share his journey with all of you! Keep in mind, it's long, and it's graphic, so if you don't want to read the intimate details... maybe skip this post.
Lucian's Birth Story
It all started with very irregular contractions Sunday May 30th. They started off quite strong on Sunday evening but tapered off and I went to bed thinking that labour would be starting soon but not sure when. On Monday I went to see the midwife and when she checked me I was already 2.5-3 cm’s! That night, I started to lose my mucous plug. I never thought I’d be so happy about mucous.
Contractions continued on Monday evening, enough for me to have to breathe through them. I decided I should get some sleep so I went to bed around 1 and woke up with some pretty intense contractions at 4 am and could not get back to sleep—this is when I would say my labour started.
Miguel decided to stay home from work on Tuesday as my contractions were picking up and took our oldest to daycare for the day. The contractions got bad enough for me to phone the midwife and warn her labour might be here to stay. So at about 10 am I had Miguel put the TENS machine on and I tried to rest a bit. I rested on and off for an hour or so and the contractions got pretty intense—enough for me to be kind of moaning and more though them while I tried to grab the bed post to brace myself. They continued like this every 7-10 minutes… never regulating themselves.
We decided to go for ice cream and maybe for a walk but my contractions were so intense that I would look like a mad woman if I were seen in public like this. So I stayed in the car. We decided to leave my oldest at my in-laws in case things continued to progress. After ice cream things stopped, my wonderful hubby told me to go lay down instead of have a bath (smart man) so I ended up resting for about an hour and a bit before they started again with the “grab hold and moan” contractions, and at this point I was frustrated. I still didn’t know if I was in true labour because the pains were so horrible but they had just stopped! We called the midwife at 6ish and because my labour pains had just stopped she said I was likely having contractions that weren’t strong enough to dilate my cervix and to try to rest etc. So off I went to get food. By the way I used the contraction master app on the iphone to track my contractions—very helpful.
Miguel and I decided on getting some spicy wings from Montana’s and took a drive there... While in the car I had three major contractions on top of each other that made me really want to go home. When we got home I had a few wings and some garlic cheese bread, it was fantastic. I sat and rocked and bounced on my ball for a few hours and then went into the bath to relax for a bit until 9 when the contractions really started to get more uncomfortable and were around 5-7 minutes apart most times but most under a minute—they never got consistent… so I stopped measuring them at 10 because it was discouraging. I phoned the midwife and told her they were closer together but then I’d have one after a minute that was only 20-30 seconds long… and again that was my downfall in my midwife’s mind—she was on the phone long enough to hear a contraction that was “painful” but not long enough. She said the last thing we wanted to do was go there to only find out I was 3 cm’s and labour in the waiting room and
I agreed---hating her at that moment, but I agreed.
At this point I was getting tired of the pain… I tried again to lay down for an hour, gripping the bed rail every few minutes and moaning was turning to more vocal cries for help. Miguel would come around to check on me but knew that I didn’t want any help. Around 12 he suggested I get in the bath again, and this is when I broke down and said that it wasn’t working and I didn’t know if I could do it much longer. I had a little cry while he hugged me and then got into the bath.
We tried a few hypnobirthing scripts and it helped a little bit but I was so far gone when the contractions came rearing back that all my relaxation went out the window. Around 1:30 I wanted out of the bath… and Miguel came with me to the bedroom as my contractions were coming more frequently now but some lasting 20 seconds and then in another minute lasting 50 seconds. The pain was so bad that I told him I needed drugs and we should go to the hospital-screw the midwife! So he suggested I phone the midwife, to which I replied, no you phone her, she only tells me my body isn’t doing anything and I can’t hear that again. (This isn’t what she had been telling be but it sure felt like it at the time). So he called the midwife and said we needed to go to the hospital, explained my stupid contractions to her and then she wanted to know what hospital I wanted to go as we probably wouldn’t be able to get there in time to get a nice room—but at that point I had one of my “hold me jebus” contractions and had to put the phone down. Miguel came back into the room and picked up the phone to hear the midwife calmly but firmly say—Get to the hospital now. At that point I was naked on the bed—my legs had started to shake and when this happened last time—I was in transition… so then we were all freaked out that we wouldn’t make it in time. Miguel threw some clothes at me (nasty ones I might add) and had to find his clothes… the while he was sufficiently panicked. I actually had to tell him to relax.
We already had our bags in the car, but getting in the car at 2 am with a tank top that doesn’t cover your stomach and sleeping pants not pulled up all the way because you have a TENS machine on topped with a Winter Coat—was just the fashion look of the year lol. I couldn’t sit down or get in, so I managed to give it one big go and got in the front seat on my knees facing backwards holding the chair… It was the longest ride to the hospital. It was also the longest trip from the emergency entrance to the Labour and delivery floor. And when I got there the admissions person was giving me a hard time about my health card—remember I’m in labour lady, my husband forgot my purse in the car and I told him to grab the wrong colour bag… so he told her to just relax. When the labour and delivery nurse heard my contraction she poo pooed on the admissions clerk and took me in to triage to check me. She was an angel. She wanted to see if baby was right there and he was not, he was high up. My midwife then arrived (we missed her in emergency) and checked me and said I was 9 cm’s!!! I was so happy! What was even better was that I got the nice fancy LDRP room and everything. At this point it was about 2:30ish…
We all thought it was going to be a short time from there because once we got set up, the thoughts about breaking my water and having my baby quicker were being talked about. I voiced my concern that what if she breaks my waters and I have insane contractions and what if he still doesn’t come out for hours. She told me that she couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen but I could also be holding my baby soon—my choice. We had 30 more minutes of crazy contractions and finally I said ok break my water.
Around 4 am, she broke my water and that’s when it got really crazy… baby was posterior and needed to turn to come out. I needed to rock my hips while contracting on the ball to do this. This was one of the hardest things I had to do all labour. After an hour of doing that I needed to get back in bed for her to check me, and when she did she said my cervix was swelling up and I was now 8 maybe 9 cm’s. So at this point she started talking about pain meds, and got me the gas… And boy did I suck that thing back… So after one can of it, I started getting weird contractions that hurt like hell and at the end would make me push a bit. I yelled out at 5 that I needed drugs, and Miguel said—but you don’t want drugs remember. So I said in a more nasty voice that I didn’t care and couldn’t do this anymore, so she went to get me fentanyl. I swear to god she took extra-long to get the drugs. Because by the time she got back and I was still having the worst pain of my life trying to crawl off the bed and involuntarily pushing. So when she checked me she said I was ready to start pushing and I didn’t need the drugs. I must have looked at her like she was crazy… I was Medusa and tried turning her to stone because she was going to take the drugs away lol So they got me more gas.
I started pushing at 6 am, and he wasn’t born until 7:48 am. It was really slow pushing so that I wouldn’t tear, my midwife was really good about warm compresses, and my husband still got to deliver the baby. He said everything was good, he saw the head, and then the little hand beside his head and at the last moment just before he came out he put his other hand beside his head and that’s when Miguel said I tore, but he was out!
He was placed on my chest and it took forever to deliver the placenta, and then his colour started to not look so great, so they went to suction him and apparently there was a tonne of mucous! Dad and Lucian got skin to skin time for about an hour when they stitched me up and I went to the bathroom etc. I even got to have a shower right after I delivered, in my own room. IT was pure heaven.
I was hoping to have a drug free birth and minus the gas, I did it! I do feel a little peeved about the sheer length of the whole process and the pushing process, and would be very reluctant to do it ever again. I am so in love with my little squishee, he is just so perfect. He’s a wonderful feeder just like his brother was.
Looking back on this now, it's still so amazing how we bring human beings into this world, and how dependant they are on us for love. I'm pretty sure we are content with two kids as they sure give me a run for my money, but giving my oldest the gift of a little brother was the best thing I could have done. It took him a while to warm up to him but now they are pretty good buds.
When you have children, no one tells you how hard it is to go back to work. It's a mixed bag of emotions for many women--myself included.
After my first child, I was one of those moms who had a hard time adjusting to the pace at home. Feeling "trapped" at home, and having no "life." I still did a lot of work on the side and that is one thing I don't recommend. I always felt stressed and pressured to do more. For me working at home just plain sucked. I didn't do the job as good as I used to, and if I did, I didn't pay enough attention to my son. It was a lose lose situation. I went back a little bit early after 11 months of being home (In Canada we get a year of Maternity leave--yes, I know it's amazing) I started back part time--for a week, and then went back to full time. 
Did I miss being home? Yes--But. But, I loved once again, going out for lunch, having a coffee in silence (this is before I become a true tea lover), being "important" and having my opinions mean something in the business world. My first son could not have cared less that I was leaving him at daycare because I'm fortunate enough to have my In Laws watch him. So it was the cat's meow to go to grandma and grandpa's all day. What was hard for me? He changed. He stopped being "my baby" and started to be his own little person. I missed a few of his firsts, like steps. THAT'S hard. I tell myself, that when he does it with me, it will be like a first, cause it's the first time I've seen it. It's also hard to let someone else essentially raise your child. They spend more time with them during waking hours then you do. And, quite frankly they don't get paid enough in my opinion.
And today, when I dropped of my not quite 11 month old son for his first day (half day) of daycare, I felt....good! I had been having anxiety about it for a week before I decided to come back early. This is my last baby, and once I go back, I can't not go back. He will stop being my little baby and start being a little boy. I had this fear that he would think I was abandoning him--which I know logically I wasn't. My second baby is much more attached to me, aka cries if I'm not there, even with the fabulous grandparents. But he didn't cry once and did amazing today. And the best thing ever? I got the biggest snuggles for 5 whole minutes when I picked him up. He'd look at me, then hug me, then look at me, then hug me. It was so awesome.
Did I miss being home? Yes--But. But, I loved once again, going out for lunch, having a coffee in silence (this is before I become a true tea lover), being "important" and having my opinions mean something in the business world. My first son could not have cared less that I was leaving him at daycare because I'm fortunate enough to have my In Laws watch him. So it was the cat's meow to go to grandma and grandpa's all day. What was hard for me? He changed. He stopped being "my baby" and started to be his own little person. I missed a few of his firsts, like steps. THAT'S hard. I tell myself, that when he does it with me, it will be like a first, cause it's the first time I've seen it. It's also hard to let someone else essentially raise your child. They spend more time with them during waking hours then you do. And, quite frankly they don't get paid enough in my opinion.
And today, when I dropped of my not quite 11 month old son for his first day (half day) of daycare, I felt....good! I had been having anxiety about it for a week before I decided to come back early. This is my last baby, and once I go back, I can't not go back. He will stop being my little baby and start being a little boy. I had this fear that he would think I was abandoning him--which I know logically I wasn't. My second baby is much more attached to me, aka cries if I'm not there, even with the fabulous grandparents. But he didn't cry once and did amazing today. And the best thing ever? I got the biggest snuggles for 5 whole minutes when I picked him up. He'd look at me, then hug me, then look at me, then hug me. It was so awesome.
So why did I choose to go back to work? Because for me, I'm a better parent when i'm not in the thick of it 100% of the day. I've made peace with it. I admire those who can do it--even more so the ones who do homeschooling and all that. I also went back because having a paycheck rocks.
So to those of you who are wrestling with this decision, it's not easy. And you may cry on your first day (even if your child does not), but you will recognize if staying at home is for you or not. Do not feel guilty one way or the other. Your child will not forget who you are, or love the provider more than you, you are still mom. You always will be. That totally counts for something.
My husband sent this to me. I am not a skinny girl. I’ve had two kids. And many moms (and non moms) feel horrible about their body because of the way media portrays what women should look like. Don’t I just sound like a feminist! But it’s true. As a teenager we are bombarded by ‘sexy’ skinny girls in music videos, on T.V. and in magazines. We’ve all seen the Dove commercial about accepting your body, and not being airbrushed. Models generally don’t look like they do in real life as they do on magazine covers as they shave inches off their small toned bodies and make them even thinner. But yet we still want to look like the airbrushed version. After all thin is in.
The stat they post in the article says that,
To me, the “plus” sized model looks healthier and sexier.
So why as women do we only celebrate being sexy when we are “thin?” here is another photo from the article:
Many women are not between size 6-8, and there is a lot of controversy as to what qualifies as a plus sized model these days. However, if you are healthy as in; you exercise regularly and eat sensibly, you may not look like models on the covers of cosmo and the like, but it does not mean you are not sexy. --holy run on sentence batman! There are people out there who say that Plus Sized models support women being obese but the model makes the point that the industry should not support anorexia or obesity, and that beauty comes in various sizes.
Many women struggle after giving birth with reclaiming their sexuality because quite frankly their bodies are DIFFERENT. Not worse, just different. They may have stretch marks AKA battle scars, saggy boobs or leaky boobs, deflated stomachs, C section scars and the list goes on—wow I’m making post baby bodies sound delightful, aren’t I? But keep in mind, we created another human being! It's not like you sat around on the couch for 9 months eating bon bons. And we have to get our minds around that this may be our new “sexy” body, you have to work with what you've got. Guess what, your husbands (if they are not assholes) still find you beautiful, even if you do not. It is harder to get back in shape after having a child but it is not impossible, but you must make yourself a priority.
Remember ladies, beautiful women come in all sizes, celebrate the sexy you now! Sometimes, some new sexy lingerie helps :) Just sayin'.
Twenty years ago the average fashion runway model weighed 8% less than the average woman, today she weighs 23% less.Now, you might say, well twenty years ago the average woman weighed less than she does today, and you may be right, but look at this photo. This is a runway model who is likely forced to be anorexic to keep her size, and a Russian model who is a US size 12. You be the judge, who is more beautiful?
To me, the “plus” sized model looks healthier and sexier.
So why as women do we only celebrate being sexy when we are “thin?” here is another photo from the article:
Many women are not between size 6-8, and there is a lot of controversy as to what qualifies as a plus sized model these days. However, if you are healthy as in; you exercise regularly and eat sensibly, you may not look like models on the covers of cosmo and the like, but it does not mean you are not sexy. --holy run on sentence batman! There are people out there who say that Plus Sized models support women being obese but the model makes the point that the industry should not support anorexia or obesity, and that beauty comes in various sizes.
Many women struggle after giving birth with reclaiming their sexuality because quite frankly their bodies are DIFFERENT. Not worse, just different. They may have stretch marks AKA battle scars, saggy boobs or leaky boobs, deflated stomachs, C section scars and the list goes on—wow I’m making post baby bodies sound delightful, aren’t I? But keep in mind, we created another human being! It's not like you sat around on the couch for 9 months eating bon bons. And we have to get our minds around that this may be our new “sexy” body, you have to work with what you've got. Guess what, your husbands (if they are not assholes) still find you beautiful, even if you do not. It is harder to get back in shape after having a child but it is not impossible, but you must make yourself a priority.
Remember ladies, beautiful women come in all sizes, celebrate the sexy you now! Sometimes, some new sexy lingerie helps :) Just sayin'. 
This past year has been eventful in my life.
We welcomed our second son into the world in June and it has rocked our world for the past 7 months. He is a wonderful baby and it is so very true how each baby is different. Having two kids has been a challenge to say the least, but it's getting more amazing everyday! I had a wonderful friend throw me a beautiful baby shower after my son was born--see the second child needs new things too! 
I've made some amazing mom friends from my most recent birth club, and many of those friendships surpass the barrier that is the Internet. I also still have a lot of close relationships from my first sons birth club way back in 2008, it's amazing to know a lot of these women for 5 years. AND they are talking about getting together for a trip to Vegas--big trouble.
I've made some amazing mom friends from my most recent birth club, and many of those friendships surpass the barrier that is the Internet. I also still have a lot of close relationships from my first sons birth club way back in 2008, it's amazing to know a lot of these women for 5 years. AND they are talking about getting together for a trip to Vegas--big trouble.
My three year old did not give me a coronary and FINALLY started to use the potty--when he turned three. I swear I didn't see an end in sight. He has also grown up so much in the past year and adjusted so well to his new brother. AND I finally learned to cut his hair well, it was always pretty embarrasing each time I had cut his hair... it was always horrible. But now I just bribe him with candy and he sits somewhat still-- but YAY it finally doesn't look like he did it himself. He is beyond obsessed with all things spiderman, and he wouldn't be three without an oddity, his favourite colour is purple, and he reminds me of this every day--about 5o times a day. 
I launched my tea blog, and finally have an outlet and a justification for the obscene amount of money I spend on tea. I took a trip to Chicago with my husband and had a fabulous time reconnecting--and spending money.
My mom moved across the country and retired and my sister who was always going to have a litter of children decided three was enough. All in all it's been a fabulous year marked with ups and downs.
Health, Wealth and Happiness to you all! I'm so hoping that the world will not end in 2012, but i'll be brushing up on Jericho just in case.
I'm a man. Well not literally. But everything about my planning for Christmas is. I did not shop for Christmas until last night. Yes I'm crazy. AND I did not go for pictures for Santa until the 20th... the first time. Yes you heard me, the first time. I went again.
Every year without fail I procrastinate Christmas, and each year I am less and less prepared.
Mind you this year I have two kids and not one.( prepare yourselves for the excuses) My husband has been gone away on business longer than he's been here in the last 6 weeks and all my oldest has asked for, is a gun. Now this isn't Texas, it's Winnipeg. He does NOT need a gun of any form. I wanted him to watch a Christmas story to see him "shoot his eye out" but he was less than impressed with the quality of my old ass movie.
So finally, my husband is in town and we're not attending functions on Tuesday night (the 20th of December) and we went after work. big mistake.
My husband was in a less than chipper mood, as he had wanted to go during the day and I said no, at supper time would be less busy. He was right. shhhh don't tell him I said that. It was brutal. We waited in line for an hour. AND just before our turn (2 people before us) he informs us he has to pee. That's right it was a Andrew in the snowsuit moment. I HAVE TO GO PEE! And did the dance and everything. So after the "look" between me and my husband, he runs the the bathroom with him and I begrudgingly let 3 people go ahead of us. Then he got back and all of a sudden saw santa and got super shy. He wouldn't talk to santa. I know this may not be huge news for you moms with crying/screaming kids for Santa, but this kid has NEVER cried for santa. (see photo's below)
And he wouldn't even talk to santa. And someone should talk to the "elves" who ring the bells. That just freaks the crap out of small babies. So after an hour in line, a pee break, a child who would not smile or talk to Santa. This is what we got:
Can you tell how impressed Santa is? So after we all had a melt down at the mall, dad and I included, we decided to just go home and brood about it. So I said, I cannot accept this as our photo this year. So who dragged her ass to the mall today? December 23rd? This crazy one did. I took both kids by myself to see Santa. We missed my youngest's nap time to go for 10ish, and about half way through the line guess who pulled an, "I have to go pee mom." See, we had gone just before we left the house, so I played hard ball and said if we go pee at the mall we can't see santa so I'm very proud to say he held it. The boys did fantastic in the line for the 45 minutes it took. My oldest gave a smile for the camera and my littlest one was smiling at me, and just as I moved back the DAMN elf rang the freaking bells. She tried two more times but the first one was the best. I'm pretty ok with this one :)
And he wouldn't even talk to santa. And someone should talk to the "elves" who ring the bells. That just freaks the crap out of small babies. So after an hour in line, a pee break, a child who would not smile or talk to Santa. This is what we got:
Can you tell how impressed Santa is? So after we all had a melt down at the mall, dad and I included, we decided to just go home and brood about it. So I said, I cannot accept this as our photo this year. So who dragged her ass to the mall today? December 23rd? This crazy one did. I took both kids by myself to see Santa. We missed my youngest's nap time to go for 10ish, and about half way through the line guess who pulled an, "I have to go pee mom." See, we had gone just before we left the house, so I played hard ball and said if we go pee at the mall we can't see santa so I'm very proud to say he held it. The boys did fantastic in the line for the 45 minutes it took. My oldest gave a smile for the camera and my littlest one was smiling at me, and just as I moved back the DAMN elf rang the freaking bells. She tried two more times but the first one was the best. I'm pretty ok with this one :)
So from our family to yours, Merry Christmas!!