This post fucking sucks

(Started November 3rd)

Sorry for the profanity, but it does.

The baby died.

The baby died and I didn't even know it.

I'd had some spotting about 3 weeks ago but it went away after a day. Baby still had a beautiful heartbeat. I was still green with morning sickness. I was showing. Quinn actually guessed that I was pregnant. "Mommy big belly! Baby belly?" So we bit the bullet and made our announcement. I figured out just how to do it too...I lined up all our padraig cottage slippers and added in the wee little infant ones I had bought before Quinn was born but never used. 

The boys were so excited. Nearly every day Quinn would rub my belly and  say "Hi baby!" right into my belly button. Jesse was certain it was a girl. He wouldn't hear tell of the baby being a boy. Very similar to how he acted when I was pregnant with Quinn and he wouldn't hear tell of the baby being a girl. He was right then.

I had some very slight spotting earlier this week as well. I had a prenatal appt on Tuesday and told the doctor about it. He didn't seem overly concerned. He asked if we wanted to try to find the heartbeat with the doppler. I said sure. He gave up after a minute or so though and said it wasn't unusual not to find it this early (nearly 13 weeks)...even though I'd been finding it at home with my own doppler since 9 weeks. I wasn't concerned either. Not really. I didn't think he was looking high enough. He offered an early u/s....mostly because I'd had a previous loss and he could tell I was a bit nervous, I think.

That night I tried at home to find the heartbeat. I spent a good half an hour trying. I had a sinking feeling, but I couldn't believe that it could be true. The next day around noon the ultrasound department called me and asked if I could come in at 1:30pm. The kids were at the sitters', so I said sure. Since it didn't seem like Steve would get the time off work, I asked my friend Diane to go with me. She picked me up less than an hour later.

We got there just in time, registered and waited. She brought her 4 week old little guy. I knew she would and honestly I was glad he was there. He was a good distraction.

We were called in quickly....more quickly than I remember from my previous pregnancies. I made a joke about peeing myself (from the liter of water I'd just chugged in the hour prior). Then I hopped up on the table and shimmied down my maternity pants. I held my breath as the ultrasound tech held the wand on my belly. I craned my neck at the screen and saw my baby. My beautiful, perfect baby. For a moment I prayed to a God I don't believe in that it wasn't true, but I knew it. My baby was still. The ultrasound tech didn't say a word. She just moved the wand back and forth for a few moments, taking measurements. Not once did I see the flickering heart I'd seen on Jesse's and Quinn's ultrasounds. I had to stop looking. All I could do was try not to cry. She then took some measurements of my ovaries and said she had to go talk to the radiologist. I told Diane the baby was gone. She knew it too.

The ultrasound tech came back after just a few minutes and told me to go on over to the family practice clinic and see my doctor. So we left and walked over to the clinic and checked in. I told them I'd just had an ultrasound and had been told to see my doctor. I didn't realize how long we'd have to wait for confirmation of what we knew to be true. We sat there, for over 2 hours, watching patients come and go. Eventually we were called into an exam room and told that the report wasn't posted yet and they hadn't been able to get ahold of the radiologist. I'm not sure about anyone else, but keeping a woman who's baby has died in suspense seems like cruel and unusual punishment.

A while later the doctor came back and somberly told me what I already knew. My baby was dead, and had been for probably about a week. It was measuring about 11 weeks 5 days on ultrasound. Knowing what I know about pregnancy loss, I knew that this wasn't it...I wasn't just going to be sent on my merry way to miscarry in peace at home. The next step was to talk about "what now?" Apparently the radiologist didn't like the look of the placenta. It looked "cystic." They were concerned about a partial molar pregnancy. D&C seemed like the best way to go. Dr. Dawe made an appt for me for the next morning at 11 with an OB at the Women's Health Clinic and then we left.

Steve had been texting me the whole time...wondering what was happening. I had to tell my husband over text that our baby had died. He left work early, picked up the kids, and met me at home.

The next day, Thursday, Halloween, we got to the hospital around 10am. I had bloodwork drawn and then checked in at the Women's Health Clinics. Being surrounded by hugely pregnant women complaining about how uncomfortable they were was not my idea of a good time. Thank God for iphones. At least we were able to block most of it out. Eventually I was called in and Dr. Cook came in. She was really sweet. We talked a bit about the ultrasound and how a D&C was probably the best option. She sent me on over the Dr. Kravitz's Early Pregnancy Assessment Clinic. I went over, had more bloodwork, and waited again.

I was called in. I told Steve to wait outside, since I knew I'd probably have to have a pelvic exam. I know he's seen it all before, but honestly, I wasn't sure how well I could hold it together if he was there too. I talked with Dr. Kravitz and with her nurse, Robin. They explained how I would be given fentanyl for pain and midazolam for sedation via IV during the procedure. Apparently they don't do D&C's under general anesthesia here. This scared me, but I'd heard from others that the midaz was quite effective at knocking you out. So I tried not to worry about it. Dr. Kravitz did a pelvic exam and placed a laminaria in my cervix to soften it and partially dilate it prior to the procedure. I started cramping right away. Then I left under instructions to pick up my prescrptions for antibiotics and cytotec and return in the morning at 7:45am at day surgery. Then we went home, got the kids ready for Halloween, Steve took them trick or treating around the neighbourhood, and then got them to bed.


(Continued November 11)
I didn't sleep well. I got up at 6 and showered. Steve got up and got the kids ready. I went to the hospital and checked in while he got Jesse to school and Quinn to the sitter. Steve joined me at the hospital and I was called in. I changed into a gown, got my IV started and waited. Then one of the nurses came to get me. I walked into the OR. It was the most surreal experience. There were a number of people there....the only ones I recognized were Robin and Dr. Kravitz. Someone helped me take off my "robe" (a backwards hosptial gown) and instructed me to hop up on the OR table. Someone helped me put my legs in the stirrups. For several minutes I laid there...my ass hanging out there for everyone to see. Then someone gave me fentanyl and midazolam through my IV.

I wish I could say I blacked out for what came next....but I didn't. I didn't even feel light-headed. I'm sure the fentanyl worked to a degree, but I still felt everything. I felt the scraping and the suctioning...The pain of the procedure mixed with the pain of losing a baby I had no idea I already loved this much was just too much. I started shaking and crying. They gave me more midaz and more midaz but it didn't make a difference. At the end the doctor whipped out the speculum and I cried out as the pain seared along my scar (from my previous births). Someone said, "It's OK, it's over now." But it wasn't OK.

They wheeled in a stretcher and helped me move over to it and then wheeled me into a very un-private curtained "room." They put a blood pressure cuff on my arm, but they couldn't get it on right (because it was getting tangled up with the sat monitor and the IV line) so they got a bigger one but put it on too loose to matter. Then they left me alone, peeking in through the curtain every few minutes and checking my bleeding every so often. I closed my eyes, wishing I could disappear. Someone said I'd need more time because I had extra doses of sedation....I wanted to laugh. It could have been saline for all the good it did me. After a while they went and got Steve, went over post-op instructions and then told me to get dressed and go home.

 *****

So now it's 10 days later. I've since heard from Dr. Dawe that the pathology report came back and the pregnancy was NOT partial molar. That's such a huge relief. The medical aspect of this loss was already enough...not sure I could have handled more. The other aspect of this whole ordeal that has made slightly more bearable is that Dr. Cook was able to get me a copy of an u/s picture of the baby, which I'm sharing here. This, and the audio recording we have of the heartbeat are really the only evidence that this baby existed.

I meant to return to work today, but I didn't sleep at all last night. I'm going to call my doctor's office in the morning and get a note. Hopefully I'll be able to return tomorrow night. I really don't want to go back. I still find it difficult looking people in the eye. I'm prone to breaking into tears at any moment. I feel like I need more time. I'm not sure what it is I'm waiting for....the emptiness to go away maybe. I'm sure that'll take a while. I know we'll try again, and I do hope this little spirit will come back to us. I'm not sure how I'll feel whole or complete again if it doesn't.

The Resurrection - The Second Coming of Trouble

I know. I`m going straight to Hell for that title. Which would matter only if I believed in Hell.

Anyways...

We`re knocked up. Again. Well, I`m knocked up and Steve`s along for the ride. See?

No, it wasn't an accident. All of our babies have been ridiculously planned. And what can I say...our kids are pretty awesome, so why stop at two?

And I want a pink one. A pink ruffly girl. I figure we'll keep going til we get one.

Had my first prenatal appointment as well. Didn't get to see Dr. Miller but I saw the resident. I had to drag two sick kiddos along with me. They don't know their lives are about to be turned upside-down yet, so I had the doc keep it on the DL. I also have Jayme booked again. Yep...another home birth. 

Our Tongue Tie Tale

This is the story of how we found out Quinn was tongue tied, and the journey we went through to find care providers who would help us. Thought I would post it here as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My second child, Quinn was born March 20^th, 2011. It was a lovely, uncomplicated home birth. I nursed him as soon as he seemed the least bit interested. Jesse was present at the birth and was wonderful through it all. (I’d done a lot to prepare him for the birth, so that it wouldn’t scare him. We also had my mom there to watch him and look out for him if he’d needed to go elsewhere while I laboured.) I did have to go to the hospital for a couple hours for sutures, but other than that, the birth was wonderful. 

Breastfeeding was going seemingly wonderful as well. Jesse, seeing a new baby on mommy’s boobies, decided that weaning just wasn’t in the cards. So I happily nursed them together. My milk came in the next night. I didn’t get engorged. I didn’t have any pain. Quinn was (and still is) a very easy baby. He started sleeping 5-6 hour stretches the second night. He nursed quickly (too quickly, I now realize) and seemingly easily. He did lose nearly 10% of his birth weight, but regained it by 2 weeks. And he continued to gain adequately in those first weeks. He was very laid back, content, and rarely cried. I had oodles of milk. I was well rested and felt great. I thanked my lucky stars that everything was going so well.

As time went on I started to wonder about a few things that I’d picked up on in regard to Quinn’s nursing. He was always a very noisy nursling. I remember attending a documentary screening when he was 2 weeks old, and they had to turn up the volume in the theatre because the noise from Quinn nursing was drowning out the sound of the documentary. He was a very messy nursling. Milk leaked from the corners of his mouth, and he’d often pop off the breast coughing and sputtering. He even seemed to be aspirating my milk, and always sounded congested. There were also several episodes of “power-puking” where he’d projectile vomit an `entire feed. I attributed all of this to my supposed “overactive letdown.” There was also a noticeable click when he nursed, and his tongue always felt like it was flicking my nipple.  Early on I attributed these things to him being a newborn, and fully expected him to be a pro within a few weeks.

By the time Quinn was 6 weeks old, I started to realize that something was just not right. Instead of getting better, things seemed to be getting worse. Our nursing sessions seemed to always end in frustration, with both of us in tears, and me holding him up and asking him, “What’s wrong?! I don’t understand what you want!” I avoided nursing him in public (something I’d done unashamedly with Jesse) because it was too difficult and frustrating. That’s when I came across a blog post by the Analytical Armadillo, a lactation consultant in the UK, called “Tongue Tie, the Hidden Cause of FeedingProblems?”  It struck me that we had at least half of the symptoms of tongue tie. Since Quinn didn’t look tongue tied to me, I check him for a lip tie, which was also described in the post, and sure enough, he had one. I thought this must be the cause of our feeding issues, so I started on my journey to find someone to help. (The fact that it wasn’t painful and there was no damage to my milk supply was easily explained by the fact that I was still nursing my first child.)

 Quinn's lip tie - the reason he wasn't able to flange his top lip

It was also at 6 weeks that I got my first of four blocked ducts and developed a persistent thrush infection.  I started taking lecithin to prevent blocked ducts and followed Dr. Jack Newman’s Candida Protocol to get rid of the thrush, both without success. I also started experiencing painful vasospasms.  Though Quinn never did develop any signs of thrush himself, at 2 months of age, he began refusing to nurse. Even when he was obviously hungry, he would cry when I’d try to bring him in to my breast. He also started losing weight.  I sought out help from lactation consultants and family doctors. I brought journal articles with me. No one seemed to have ever heard of a lip tie. I asked about the possibility of a posterior tongue tie (also called a submucosal tongue tie), and I was told that if the baby could stick his tongue out, then he wasn’t tongue tied. I was referred to a plastic surgeon for the tongue tie (even though I’d asked to be referred to an ENT). The plastic surgeon said I had a perfectly healthy baby and there was nothing wrong. I took him to a dentist, and again, was told he was perfectly healthy and normal. Our problems were blamed on oversupply, over-active milk ejection reflex, shallow latch, lazy baby, and my toddler nurse so much that I wasn’t leaving enough for my infant. I tried nursing my toddler for a minute first to relieve the engorgement I continued to experience and to relieve my first let down  (I typically have 2-3 letdowns per side) so that the baby would be less distressed and be able to handle the flow, and also so that he would get a better balance of foremilk and hindmilk. It didn’t help. I was told to nurse the baby first and the toddler second, to make sure the baby got enough milk. That made things worse. 

And he continued to lose weight.

As he neared 3 months, he was refusing to nurse every time, except for bedtime, when I’d nurse him lying down, in the dark. He had better head control, and most of the milk leaked out the corner of his mouth. He was much less distressed when I nursed him this way. I started to nurse him lying down for naps as well. It worked sometimes. Out of desperation, I tried giving him breast milk in a bottle. He struggled with that too. He couldn’t coordinate sucking and swallowing. He gagged, coughed, and sputtered. And refused. A lactation consultant offered to come to my house and set me up with an at the breast supplemental nursing system. I refused. I knew it wouldn’t help, and would likely make things worse. The problem wasn’t my supply. And it wasn’t even totally a milk transfer issue. MORE milk in his mouth would not help. He couldn’t suck and swallow properly. Nursing wasn’t comforting for him. But he wanted to suck. He sucked on his hands, on my fingers, on anything he could get in his mouth. I gave in and bought a pacifier. He loved it, but he was unable to hold it in his mouth. I had to hold it there for him. I feared for our breastfeeding relationship. I had a knot in my stomach 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Mothering at the breast was the only way I knew. I didn’t know how I could be a mother without nursing. Even if the solution had simply been to bottle feed, that wouldn’t have worked for our family. I suppose I would have made it work, but I would have felt a great sense of loss.

After getting nowhere with the health care providers I talked to, and knowing that if something didn’t change soon he’d end up with a nasogastric tube, I sent a Facebook message to Emma Kwasnica, a Montreal-based birth and breastfeeding activist. She posted my message as her status. It got an immediate response.  One of the people who took the time to try to help me was Jennifer Tow, a lactation consultant based in France, who has a great deal of experience with tongue ties. She listened to our story. I told her about the breastfeeding difficulties, the weight loss, the refusal to nurse. I told her about my weeks long battle with thrush. She said that she suspected Quinn had not only a lip tie, but a posterior tongue tie. It would explain everything, including why I could not kick the candida. She had me take pictures and send them to her. Based on those, she was pretty certain that was exactly what we were dealing with. The decision was made pretty quickly to travel to a tongue tie specialist to get help for Quinn.  

See the tongue tie? Yeah, I didn't either. But it's there.

I considered taking Quinn to Dr. Newman in Toronto, but we was very busy over the coming few weeks. I also contacted Dr. Howard Mitnick of the Goldfarb Breastfeeding Clinic at the Jewish General Hospital inMontreal.  But he wanted us to stay in the city for 8 days for follow-up. Knowing I’d have to leave my toddler at home, I felt that was excessive. Jennifer encouraged me to travel to Albany, NY to see Dr. Lawrence Kotlow, a pediatric dentist who uses laser to divide tongue ties and lip ties. He is one of the most highly regarded tongue tie specialist in the world.  So I made plans to fly to Toronto, where I would stay with my aunt, and we would drive down to Albany. I made and appointment, applied for my passport, and booked our flight. 

In the meantime, I went to a follow-up appointment and weight check with our family doctor, who I was seeing for the first time for this issue. (I’d seen other family doctors at the clinic previously, as our own doctor had been too busy to see us on short notice.) He had a lactation consultant meet us there.  Quinn was weighed.  At 3 months of age, he was now down to the same weight as when he was 2 months. They watched me nurse him, or, rather, try to nurse him. They both agreed that there was definitely something “not right.” I told them I had a provisional tongue tie diagnosis from someone with a lot of experience with tongue ties. They both said they didn’t see a tongue tie. I asked them, if it wasn’t tongue tie, then what did they think was wrong. The lactation consultant shook her head and said, “I don’t know.” My doctor said, “I don’t know, but I admit, I’ve never heard of a posterior tongue tie.” He then offered to help in any way he could to get the costs of the trip covered.

On June 22nd, Quinn and I flew to Toronto. The next morning, my aunt and I got up at 5 am and drove the 6 hours to Albany. I was a bundle of nerves. I was terrified he’d look in Quinn’s mouth and tell me he wasn’t tongue tied. What then? But I knew deep down that he wouldn’t say that. My gut told me we had our answer. 

We arrived at Dr. Kotlow’s clinic, a thriving pediatric dentistry practice, and were greeted by his wonderful office staff.  Soon after we arrived we were shown to a small room with a large flat screen TV. We weren’t waiting long when Dr. Kotlow came in. He looked exactly like his pictures. It was almost surreal seeing him in person. He remembered me from my emails to him, and from his conversation with Jennifer. He asked about our story, and about the steps I’d taken to get help before travelling to see him. He shook his head as he listened.  He’d heard this same story many times before. Then he examined Quinn. He sat with me knee-to-knee, and held Quinn’s head on his lap while I held Quinn’s bum and legs. Dr. Kotlow pulled back Quinn’s upper lip and confirmed that his lip tie needed to be divided. He then stuck both thumbs under Quinn’s tongue, one on either side, and told me to look. “That’s a posterior tongue tie.” At that point it was quite obvious. It wasn’t a thin band of tissue, but rather a thick web, anchoring his tongue to the floor of his mouth. It limited his tongue mobility to the point that he could not coordinate sucking and swallowing. He could stick his tongue out past his lips, but that’s about all he could do.

Quinn and I with Dr. Kotlow

Dr. Kotlow then had us watch a video that he’d made. It was about 15 minutes long. It was about tongue tie, lip tie, how it affects breastfeeding and how it also causes other problems, like reflux and dental problems when a baby’s teeth come in.  It showed how laser is used to divide a tongue tie and a lip tie. It showed the “exercises” we’d have to do after the procedure to ensure the surgery sites didn’t re-adhere.  He came back in after the video was over and asked if we were ready. We asked about anesthesia. Dr. Kotlow explained that using local anesthesia would actually take longer and cause more discomfort than the actual procedure, which would be over within seconds. They would give Quinn a swab of sugar water to suck on (it has an analgesic effect) and give him infant acetaminophen. They promised he’d be back in my arms in 10 minutes. I handed him off, feeling like a horrible mother. I knew he’d be scared, and that it would probably hurt. But I knew it was the right decision. There really wasn’t a viable alternative.

I went to the bathroom to pump, so that it would be easy for Quinn to latch on when he was brought back to me. I got back to the room where I’d left my aunt, and within another minute or so, Dr. Kotlow came back carrying my sweet little baby. Quinn looked rather bewildered, and there was a spot of blood on his shirt, but I knew he was going to be OK. I took him and put him to the breast immediately and for the first time, it felt “right.” There was no clicking, no slipping down the nipple, no pulling off, no gagging, gasping, coughing or sputtering. There were no splayed fingers, no arched back. He just nursed like a baby is supposed to nurse. He did that for a couple of minutes and then came off. He was a bit out of sorts, but I knew, I just knew, everything was going to be fine. We stayed at the clinic for about 2 hours after that. Even after closing. Dr. Kotlow was hoping Quinn would nurse again before we left. He didn’t, but I knew once we settled in to our hotel that night, he would. Dr. K went over the exercises again and really impressed upon us how important they were. I promised I would do them.  I certainly didn’t want to have to make a return trip.

We left and drove as far as Rochester before stopping for the night. On the road I pumped and fed my milk to Quinn in a bottle, as he was still refusing the breast. That night though, when we laid down in bed, he nursed, like I knew he would. And he nursed a couple times over night and again in the morning. And it was wonderful.  It was like the tongue tie never existed.

Aunt Cindy, Quinn and I at Tim Hortons in Rochester

A few days later Quinn and I flew home.  I could tell he was already beginning to regain the weight he’d lost. He was nursing so well and doing a much better job of emptying my breasts when he fed. Within a week of the appointment with Dr. Kotlow, my thrush infection was gone (without further treatment) as were the horrible vasospasms I’d been experiencing. By 2 weeks post-op, Quinn had gained a full pound. Not only were our medical issues resolving, but my whole experience of mothering this child changed. Prior to the tongue tie and lip tie surgery, I’d been having a rather difficult time emotionally. While I felt I had bonded with my baby, the whole experience was incredibly stressful. Every feeding was stressful. The constant pain of persistent thrush wears on you. Having your baby reject you is heartbreaking. Having a baby labelled “failure to thrive” is crushing. And having health care providers tell you everything is fine when you *know* it is not is maddening. There were points in time during the whole ordeal that I started questioning my sanity. I began to wonder if I was making it up. When I finally got help from Jennifer, and then Dr. Kotlow, it was as if the weight of the world had been lifted. They validated my experience and my knowledge. And they offered us answers. 

A Long Over-Due Update: The Birth Story of Quinn Oliver

I'm the most horrible blogger that ever existed. My last post was at 41 weeks pregnant, and my sweet baby is now almost 10 months old. But I've decided to get it going again, starting with Quinn's birth story. Enjoy.


I woke up 4:30 am on March 20th in active labour. I was 42 weeks and 3 days pregnant. After timing contractions and counting 13 in just 35 minutes, I called my midwife, Jayme, my doula, Tina, and my Aunt Cathy (who was to be there for Jesse) and then puttered around doing a couple things before waking up my mom. I let Steve and Jesse sleep (Steve was sleeping in Jesse's room because Jesse woke up crying in the middle of the night). Jayme, her assistant, Dawn, and Tina got here around 6:15 maybe. Jayme took my vitals and checked fetal heart tones and told me to eat (I didn't want to but she insisted) and everyone else went to work setting everything up. Tina gave me a bit of a neck massage. Steve, hearing all the commotion, thought my mom was up making a racket and was about to tell her off when he saw all the people and figured out what was going on. Jesse figured out that the baby was coming, lifted up my night dress and started rubbing my belly saying "open...open". (hilarious!)
 
The contractions were quite strong, and I gripped a chair and swayed through them. They were very manageable though, and there was plenty of time between contractions to recoup. I decided at around 7 am that I should go pee (last time I used the washroom was around 5 am) so I went upstairs. I peed and then things started getting really intense. I had a couple of serious contractions where I just had to vocalize and I started feeling grunty. The birth pool was about filled at that time and I said I wanted to get in "NOW". Apparently Jayme said something about making sure I was at least 5 cm dilated before getting in and I cursed at her (don't remember doing that!) and had another contraction and felt really pushy and felt something come out (likely a lot of bloody show) so I whipped off my night dress and jumped into the birth pool. That was 7:20 am. I immediately got on my hands and knees and leaned against the side of the birth pool. The next contraction I had that really overwhelming urge to push and gave 'er. My membranes ruptured with a pop and I felt the baby move down and felt the stretching and burning. The baby started crowning and I was cursing and yelling. I yelled, "I wish I had that ****ing gas!" All this while Jesse was so calm (my mom was watching him...Aunt Cathy was coming from 2 hours away and didn't have nearly enough time to get there before all this happened). He brought me over his baby doll (the one that I had as a child) to make me feel better. Anyways, baby was crowning FAST. I did my damndest to "breathe the baby down" but in the end instinct won over and I pushed HARD and out came Quinn's head and then his shoulders. Jayme said "Amber, catch your baby!" and I put my hands down and she passed him through my legs and I pulled him up and sat back down in the pool. That was 7:29 am. I'd been in the birth pool for 9 minutes.

Quinn was corded twice so Jayme quickly unwrapped it so I could pull him up a bit higher. He was breathing right away. Jayme had been prepared for deep suctioning because a nurse at my second last biophysical profile had said that a hazy area of fluid looked like meconium to her. In the end, there was no meconium and she didn't even need the bulb syringe. Everyone started saying, "What is it?!" and someone said to let Jesse check. So we asked Jesse (I held the baby's legs open) and he said, "It's a BABY!" We asked again and he said, "It's a boy!" So sweet. The midwife checked the babe out a little while we sat there in the pool and he was obviously fine, with the exception of some facial bruising and a couple of broken blood vessels in his eyes (due to the precipitous birth). Apgars of 8 and 9. She was a bit worried about me though because I was a bit shell-shocked. She kept checking my pulse, and I think she might have been considering breaking out the oxygen for me.

Shortly after that I started feeling really bad. I was aching really badly. So with the baby still attached and him in my arms, everyone lifted me to stand and helped me out of the pool and onto the bed. They got me all dried off and we got the baby latched on to help encourage the placenta along. Jesse, seeing a baby on his boobies, insisted on nursing too....the more the merrier! I wasn't bleeding much at all though. I cramped and delivered the placenta at 8:03 am. Jayme estimates I lost less than 250 mls total. Shortly after that she checked me out and I had torn...we just weren't sure how badly. After I rested a bit she was able to assess me better and figured the tear was too much for her to suture, so she called my family doctor, who said I should head in to the L&D ward for the repair. We sort of decided to wait a bit and then go, since I was still pretty out of it and didn't really want to move at all. In the meantime, the baby was all weighed and measured and Jayme did his newborn assessment. He was 9 lbs 3.5 oz, 52 cms long, with a 36.5 cm head (completely unmolded, just like Jesse's was at birth).
 
We went to the hospital that afternoon and met my family doctor at the L&D ward. He decided I had a partial 3rd degree tear so he got the OB to come in and assess me and she ended up doing the suturing. The repair was done under local numbing (though I could still feel a LOT and it was incredibly uncomfortable) and then I got to go home. We were only there for about 2 hours total, and the suturing took a good hour of that, so it wasn't too bad. Then we came home to a wonderful supper delivered by my mom's friend.

 The next day we finally decided on our sweet boy's name. We'd been throwing around the name Quinn for a while, and Steve figured it was appropriate, since the baby was born on the spring eQUINox. Then we had to figure out a middle name. And really, there isn't much that goes well with Quinn, but we both liked Oliver. So, Quinn Oliver.

Now for some pics....My cousin, our birth photographer, made it about 15 minutes before Quinn was born.

42 weeks 3 days


4:45 woke up to a painful contraction, used the washroom and lost a big chunk of plug, had some bloody mucous, now timing contractions.

Post-dates

41 weeks 1 day

As I had expected, I find myself significantly post-dates again. I went to 42 weeks 1 day with Jesse, so I began this pregnancy prepared to do that again. I'm still quite comfortable, and baby T seems very happy. I had one difficult day last week where my hips killed me and I had very little sleep the night before, but other than that, I'm still truckin' along. Regular massage appointments, the occasional chiropractic appointment, and prenatal yoga have helped a bit, I'm sure.

I had an appointment with my midwife this past Wednesday and all checked out well. I still have some leukocytes in my pee, but I'm asymptomatic, so right now we're treating it naturally. The baby's head is quite low now. And Jayme estimated that the baby was just over 8 lbs at that point, which is about what I think the baby probably weighs.

Then today I had a biophysical profile appointment at the Maternal Fetal Assessment Unit. I spent about 20 minutes on the monitor at first. Baby's heartrate was great. Lots of variability and plenty of acelerations. Then I had the ultrasound. Baby looks fabulous. There's lots of amniotic fluid and there's good blood flow through the cord (which means the placenta is functioning well). I was lucky enough to get a couple of great shots of the baby. Here's my favorite - look at the little pouty face!

They took my word for it that Dr. M was fine with me not consulting with the OB and getting put on the induction list. I wasn't hasselled about it at all, which was fabulous! I went in there all prepared to defend my choices. I have no plans on being induced unless this baby is not here by the end of the month. I brought the results of the BPP over to Dr. M's secretary on my way out. I also scheduled an appointment with him for Wednesday. I'll head in for that appointment whether baby is here or not. If baby isn't here, I'll probably get another BPP. If baby is here, I'll just use the appointment to get another functional assessment form filled out for work so that I can continue to take sick leave til my benefits run out. (That's when I'll officially start maternity leave.)

Aside from all that, I'm getting even huger (probably not a word, but I'm claiming pregnancy brain). I took at 41 week belly shot this past Thursday.

Anywho, I guess that's all for now. I should probably try to settle in a get some sleep. I might just have a busy weekend ahead of me, right?

Belly! Belly! Belly!!!

I got the CD of photos from my session with Tara Bradbury. I've finally had a chance to review them and I'm really happy with them. There are a few pictures that I'm going to have printed. Maybe make a collage with them or something. I highly, highly recommend every pregnant woman have a session done like this during her 3rd trimester. It's such an amazing time in your life. You should capture it!