3 months - birth story

A lot happens in three months. Three months ago today I was plodding along behind my double stroller, pushing Tennyson and watching Jordan run along the sidewalk. She was racing. I'm assuming that she was winning, since she was the only participant. We walked a mile. We then came home and played in the backyard, running around with Jordan and playing "Superhero" and pushing her on the swing. Tennyson was quite amused by all this. My water had broken at 7:30 that morning and I was trying to encourage contractions to start. It was a beautiful August day. Steven was napping because he had just gotten off work that morning.

I had called my mom and Angela and they were waiting for me to let them know that I needed someone to come and watch Jordan and Tennyson so I could go in and have the baby.

I did my normal stuff. I cleaned the house a bit, did dishes and scrubbed the bathroom. I talked on the phone with friends.

At some point during the day, Auntie Christine stopped in. She asked what I was doing for the afternoon, and suggested taking a kid. At first I was going to be sneaky and not tell her we were planning on having a baby later in the day, but I caved and let her know. She offered to stay and look after kids for us. I called back Ange and my mom and let them know that they didn't have to come in and babysit after all.

Eventually I woke up Steven, probably around noon. Contractions hadn't started yet, but we figured that we should probably go to the hospital and get checked over. Auntie Jan came to help Christine with the kids, and we left.

We got to the hospital at 2:00 o'clock, and were pretty psyched to have the baby, especially since it was two weeks early! The nurse checked me over and set up a monitor to see if any contractions had started. Early on, they're so light that you may not even feel them. Turns out I wasn't having any.



We started walking the hospital halls. We walked for over an hour, and finally got bored. Steven went home and grabbed a deck of cards and we played Shanghai for a while. As we played, I started feeling teeny contractions (about 4 o'clock). A nurse came in - I could tell she was a little annoyed that we were sitting and not walking around. We told her we'd walk again after a couple of rounds. I also mentioned that I was starting to have contractions and she replied that it was probably braxton hicks and it didn't count because I was sitting. We didn't believe her.

Side Note: For the Men: if your wife is about to have a baby, for crying out loud, let her win the dang card game!!

Eventually we started cruising again. The contractions became heavier around 6, and by 7 they were quite painful so we stayed in the room. The funny thing about labour is that contractions hurt enough to bring tears to your eyes and catch your breath (even before the final stages) but between contractions you feel fine. We were making jokes and laughing and excited between contractions, and during them I worried that I wouldn't be able to do it. I think everyone feels like that.

The doctor came in and examined me at about 8 o'clock. I was only about 3 cm dilated, but apparently I was very "thin" and he figured that once stuff got going it would go fast. He then left the hospital.

Contractions were very heavy by now, and were one on top of the other. We weren't joking around very much at this point. The nurses were trying to tell me it was "time for the gas." I kept telling them "not yet." There comes a point where your body knows it's time to push, and there's not much you can do about it but go with it. I got to that point. The nurses were telling me not to push, and I tried to breath through the contractions. They kept getting sterner about it and angrily telling me to stop pushing. I tried to tell them I couldn't and they kept insisting that I could. They even pressured me into trying the gas during a contraction. I didn't like it so I gave up on that. One of the nurses checked me and told the others (there were 3) that I was fully dilated. They were still telling me to stop pushing. At this point I realised that it wasn't because they didn't want me to tear, or because there was something wrong, it was because the doctor wasn't there yet. Finally I yelled "Just Catch The Baby!" and I pushed him out in about two pushes. They were all scrambling around like crazy people, and I was just so relieved to be done. I closed my eyes and rested. Steven told me it was a boy, and I felt him being placed on my stomach while they dried him off. He was covered up and I put my arm across him.

Steven finally asked "aren't you going to look?" I peeked at my newest little boy and closed my eyes again. Labour is hard work! The doctor had come in and said everything was fine, and all but one of the nurses disappeared. Soon it was just Steven, me and our new baby.


We called our parents. Grandpa Tim came (with donuts and cappuccinos - see, it pays to blog about these things!), and my mom (with more donuts), and Oma came (bearing pizza).

After 8 1/2 long months, Mitchell Rowan Verwey was finally here in our arms. It's amazing how slowly pregnancy seems, and how fast the time flies once the baby comes. I can't believe he's three months already. It feels like just yesterday I was complaining to my mom about being pregnant, and eating rolaids like candy.

Happy 3 Months Mitchell, we love you!