no title to think of…
28 Sep 2009 Leave a Comment
A few days after I wrote my early post about the accidents, Jason and I received a subpoena to be a witness for the accident that WE DIDN’T EVEN WITNESS. Honestly, we were so confused. Yes, we gave statements to the Officer who came to visit us in the hospital, but our statements were long the lines of “I heard a thump, I looked over and saw a Woman lying on the road. I didn’t see a car drive off or see who it her.” That was all. Seriously.
But, we received subpoenas and it is our civic duty after all to go to court. Okay, I’m not all that righteous – but, I did think about the 34 people who gave their information to be witness at OUR accident and figured this Woman needed all the help she could get.
So, we loaded up the stroller (yes, we took the baby – tacky, but I’m not ready to leave him alone) and headed to the courthouse. We were fortunate that we didn’t have to wait in the busy, crazy hallway with the rest of the people. I think the Crown took pity on us having the baby there and he sent us down to a private, cozy, waiting room to wait for our turn.
In the end, we didn’t have to testify. The Defendant pleaded guilty – which is good, because I don’t see how any teenage drunk driver who fled the scene after knocking a Woman clear into the air could ever think he could get off on that charge. The investigating officer came in to tell us we could leave and to update us with the Woman that was hit.
Turns out, not only was she a crack addict, she was also pregnant. That shocked us. There were no signs of pregnancy, although being addicted to crack I’m sure would have affected her fetuses size and made her seem much smaller. I kind of sucked in my breath and held Joey a little tighter. He then went on to say that she did deliver and at full term too. Because of her disability as a result of the accident, she had to give her little one up.
I thought about that… a lot. Thought about how things happen and why. I started thinking of her little helpless baby inside of her – what it must have been going through each time she did drugs. What it’s poor little undeveloped brain must have had to deal with.
The officer told us that she was clean since the accident. Which makes sense, because spending months in a Hospital makes it kind of hard to get your hands on some crack. But, I’m sure her cleaning up is what helped this little baby grow to full term. If you really think about it, would she have stopped using if she hadn’t have been hit? Would the little one had of made it? Would he have been born prematurely with a slew of health problems that she wouldn’t have been able to take care of regardless?
It’s amazing how things happen – how the world works. This baby survived his early years against all possible odds. He must have been made for greatness.
one year…
01 Aug 2009 4 Comments
in family, memories, stuff, Uncategorized
One year ago today, we loaded up the car, said good-bye to my Brother who was living with us at the time and headed to meet up with my SIL at the cottage. About 15 minutes after leaving, we witnessed the tail end of a very serious accident. Tires screaching, loud thud and a car speeding off, a woman lay on the road right beside our car. My Husband quickly pulled the car over and ran to the woman, calling 911 on the way. My FIL ran behind him to see what he could do, my MIL stayed in the car obviously shaken over what we had just seen. I ran to the road, searching for any signs of the contents of the baby carriage that was thrown a good 20 feet away from the woman.
It seemed like forever, but finally the police and ambulance showed up. The woman was faiding away, it was obvious to everyone around that she probably wouldn’t make it. We were relieved to discover that the baby carriage wasn’t carrying a baby, but rather the woman’s groceries as she was heading home from the store. Nothing else for us to do, we provided our info to the police and got back into the car to continue on our way to the highway. News crews showing up, I called my Brother at our house and warned him that if he heard anything on the news about a car accident, not to worry, it wasn’t us, we’re all fine just delayed with our travel.
We were all upset, of course, it was a pretty silent car ride after that. About 10 minutes after leaving, we were on the highway and on our way to the cottage. We turned on the radio to the local news station for any update on the woman and the news report stated that she was in critical condition and not expected to survive.
At that moment, the turn signal light of a 53′ transport truck started blinking in my Husbands driver side window as the truck moved over to our lane and changed our lives forever.
Within 20 minutes, the chain of calls happened and everyone in my family was notified. My poor Brother, confused, corrected my Mother and told her no, we were fine, he had just spoken to me 30 minutes ago and I assured him that everything was okay and that we were not in an accident.
There are a lot of what if’s from that night. What if Jason had of asked Father drive the first half of the trip. What if I had of sat in the front seat, would I have pulled him out of the way like his Dad did.
But mostly, I often imagine what if we hadn’t of stopped.
labour story… part two…
05 May 2009 1 Comment
in baby, marriage, memories, pregnancy, Uncategorized
For months, I had planned out my delivery. I knew what I wanted, what I didn’t want. I searched the internet for relaxation techniques during labour – I didn’t want to have an epidural and looked for other ways of pain relief. Jason and I took pre-natal classes where they taught us breathing techniques, relaxation massage and other ways to take my mind off the pain when the time came.
I bought battery operated candles to create a calming environment in the delivery room. I had music put onto Jason’s iPhone to distract me. I had instructions for everyone about who could and come out of the room while I was in labour. It was all planned and ready. But, I wasn’t expecting those two not so little words…
Back Labour.
Dear god. Once the contractions really started kicking in the pain was so unberable, all I could do was stand and sway and put my head against the wall for balance. I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t lie down, I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t bear to be touched by anyone. The 20 minute drive to the hospital was the longest, most excrutiating drive I’d ever been on. When we finally made it to the hospital, they were backed up so I was left in the waiting room for the longest hour and a half of my life.
When I was brought to the delivery room, the nurse asked if I wanted an epidural. I didn’t, I really didn’t, but the pain was so much I was leaning over the side of the bed in tears when the nurse strongly suggested that I take it, so I did. What did I discover about this experience?
I love epidurals…
Within minutes, I felt like a brand new person. It was the best feeling and I can honestly say that I enjoyed the last 16 hours of labour. Jason my Sister and my Mom all stayed with me, taking turns napping on the cot beside my bed. Jason’s family stayed in the waiting room… surprisingly, they all stayed the entire time to be there for the birth even though it took a full day. At least I had a bed, and that epidural.
One of the last internal exams by the Dr, he said that pushing wouldn’t be that far off, within the hour he’d be back so we could start. It was as he left the room that the warning alarm on my epidural went off letting us know there was only 10 minutes left of that wonderful drug. I asked the nurse to top it off… please… for the love of god… but, apparently the nurse didn’t think it was such a great idea as the Dr would prefer it if I felt the pain of the labour to assist in delivery. I cried. I seriously cried I told her that I coudln’t do it without the drug, even as we were talking the pain was coming back and lying on my back was unberable, but she wouldn’t budge.
It was two hours later before the Dr came back and told the nurse I should start to push. WITHOUT pain relief! It was the worst feeling I had ever felt (at that point). The Dr warned me he’d need assistance for the birth – a vacuum and quite possibly forceps. Honestly, I barely even registered what he was telling me and just told him to do what he needed to do to get the kid out.
It took an hour and a half of pushing until finally, finally I heard my Mom yell ‘Oh my god I can see the head!’. My poor Sister, who refused to watch her own labour, spent the majority of my pushing holding onto my leg and got an entire view of the birth. Jason stayed near my head, holding my head and keeping an eye on what was going on down there without actually seeing. My Mother kept jumping from my head to the foot to watch. I just kept my eyes shut.
The last push, which I thought would have been met with a great sense of relief, was instead met with the most horriblest feeling of my life. The feeling of being ripped from one end to the other. They took the baby right out of me and layed him on my bare chest. I lied there with my newborn son on my chest and all I could think of was the feeling of the blood gushing out of me and swearing that I was going to die. The Dr turned to a nurse and said he needed help – now – otherwise I’d be heading to surgery. I lost track of the stitches, Jason said it took over 10 minutes to get through them all but I was in so much pain and just trying to keep the baby on my chest that I didn’t notice the time.
After all the drama and the room was calm and the baby was weighed and I was told he was 10 pounds, the Dr came up to me, rubbed my shoulders, told me what a great job I did and then admitted that they were preparing the surgery room for an emergency c-section as they did not think I could deliver the baby on my own. Thank god he waited until AFTER the birth to tell me that.
Within an hour, the baby had met both sets of Grandparents, Great Grandma and his Aunts and Uncle. Exhausted after spending nearly 20 hours in a waiting room, they all left Jason and I alone with the little guy, which was the nicest thing they all could have done.
Lying in bed, Jason holding the little guy beside me, I heard him having the following conversation: “Hey there little guy, you are going to be so loved and I hope you get used to being the three of us, because we’re never going through this again.”
Amen.
the time that I felt like the worst Mother in the world…
02 May 2009 2 Comments
in baby, family, marriage, pregnancy, Uncategorized
Before I got pregnant, I had ideas about Motherhood and the type of Mother I would be. One thing I was adament about was that I was not going to breast feed. The whole idea just seemed weird and awkward and not what I wanted to do. Then, I got pregnant. Once pregnant, all my pre-conceived ideas changed – of course I was going to breastfeed. Why wouldn’t I? It just started to seem like the most natural thing to do.
The past two weeks have been rough. The baby latched on right away – he was a natural. An expert at only a few hours old. But, then after a couple of days things started changing. The baby was losing weight and feeding for much longer then before. When he lost 9.4% of his body weight in the hospital, the Paediatrician brought us in formula to help supplement him throughout the last night we were hospitalized. We didn’t get any sleep that night, worried about measuring and timing and making sure he got everything he needed.
The first night we were home, four days old, I struggled for over an hour to get him to latch – he just wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Previous to the latch problem, I’d been feeding him every two hours, with feedings lasting just over an hour. We ended up cracking open one of the cans of formula we had been sent as a sample and making him up a bottle. It was such a relief to see the food going into his stomach.
The next day a trip to the Paediatrician’s office showed that he was now down 12% of his birth rate. We were sent home with instructions to keep supplementing with formula, directions to make a trip to the breast feeding clinic and then another appointment the day after to check his weight. We kept supplementing him with formula, I made a visit to the clinic and met a wonderful RN who helped with great breastfeeding tips. The next appointment we were relieved to see his weight was back up and was only 8% away from his birth weight. We were told to stop supplementing and try to feed by breast exclusively.
Great news – but, enough to scare me into worrying about how much food he was getting… thus, began the roller coaster in which I felt like the worst Mother in the world.
I’ve been trying to breast feed, but it’s just not working. He’ll latch on for an hour to two, take a 20 minute break and then be ready for more that I just can’t seem to provide. Even after an hour of breast feeding, he’ll gladly drink another 2 ounces of formula. The first week I cried each time I gave him a bottle, each time after breast feeding that I knew he was still hungry. I tried pumping, but can’t seem to get more then half an ounce of milk out at a time.
Everything I’ve read on the Internet and was told by the nurses at the hospital says that breast is beast. From what I read, it seemed as if formula feeding was equivalant to feeding your newborn anthrax – you wouldn’t do that, would you? Every time I googled formula feeding, the first lines on every website were questioning why you would want to formula feed… why is it even an option? All good and educated Mother’s breast feed, why won’t you?
It wasn’t until last Thursday at the last appointment to check his weight, when we found out that he was just half an ounce away from his birth weight, that I started to feel better. Then, the paediatrician shocked me by not being angry that we’d continued feeding with formula and I was only breast feeding two or three times a day. In fact, he told us that he supported our decision if we decide to stop the breast feeding altogether and just formula feed from now on.
And, it was like all of a sudden all the guilt and anxiety I had been feeling was gone. I no longer felt like a horrible woman who had no right to be a Mother. I started realizing that there is nothing wrong with formula feeding – as long as my baby is thriving, shouldn’t that be all that matters?
And so, we’re formula feeding mostly, but still breast feeding as much as I can. I’m not crying with each feeding and I’m sure that’s a relief on the little guy. I can’t see it being healthy being exposed to all that stress I was passing on to him. I see the food going into him and no longer worry that I’m starving him, or worry that he’ll become dehydrated again… it took two weeks to get to this point, and I no longer feel like the worst Mother in the world.
week 26…
06 Jan 2009 2 Comments
There’s only 14 weeks of pregnancy left… well… unless my due date is pushed up at tomorrow’s appointment based on my last ultrasound.
Which, I suspect it will.
My stomach looks like a road map and is covered with red squiggly lines… but, I’m far past the age of wearing midriff revealing shirts, so I’m okay with them. My nausea is completely gone and has been replaced with acid reflux. I’ve been popping Tums like candies just trying to keep it manageable. I suddenly have much more respect for my own Mother ;)
But the strangest thing about this whole pregnancy is sitting here, typing on my laptop, watching my stomach being pushed and prodded from THE INSIDE! I’m sorry… yes, it’s magical and beautiful and all that jazz, but really? It’s also just a bit creepy! I mean, there’s a living person in my body right now. Remember that scene in Aliens?? You know that scene… I keep seeing it flash before my eyes when I think about how he’s going to get out.
At least there’s only 14 weeks left ;)
