tennyson's birth story: Chapter 1
I anxiously tidied a few things around my room. I had to wait three minutes - if I cheated and just watched the stick do its thing I'd jinx it and then I'd have to wait an entire month again for my next chance to find out if we were having a baby. Just three minutes - three long minutes. Do you ever notice how long three minutes actually is when you're waiting for something?
I was pregnant! The stick proved it, I was going to be a mommy a second time, to a second tiny baby. Steven happily gave me a hug, kissed the soon-to-be big sister and headed off to work.
I went about my day, thinking baby thoughts and caring for my very lively, strong willed 15 month old daughter. Little did I know how much joy a new baby would bring to her life! By the end of the day I had found a midwife.
The pregnancy was good, with only a scare or two. Early on I had some bleeding, and I spend the day in tears convinced I was having a miscarriage while my poor husband looked on with love and concern in his eyes, not really sure what to say, or how to help. thankfully, it turned out to be nothing serious, and went away after a few days, leaving my baby to thrive. Another time I had eaten part of a chicken burger, only to discover a few bites in that the chicken was half raw. Of course the sensible thing would be to call the midwife in a panic over having contracted salmonella. Again - no big deal.
My midwife appointments were great. her "office" was a room with a couch, a couple of easy chairs, a coffee table and some toys for Jordan to play with. Gone were the bright lights and the paper lined examining table of the doctor's office. She'd schedule at least an hour with me to leave plenty of time for a quick exam and then a chat about birth, my previous experience, my concerns, my toddler, anything. I could use as much or as little of the time as I needed without her checking her watch or dashing off to the next patient.
It was during these visits that Steven and I talked about a home birth. Our first birth experience had been somewhat unpleasant (you'll have to wait for June for that one!) and I was convinced that away from the hospital and with a midwife and her natural birth tricks that this birth would be better.
At around 20 weeks we went for our ultrasound. I had talked Steven into letting me find out the sex of the baby - or - I had decided to find out the sex of the baby and I had talked him into reluctantly agreeing. I always knew I'd have a girl first. I just knew it. I was the oldest, my mom was the oldest and my maternal grandma was the oldest child her her family. I was going to have a girl first and keep the chain going. During my pregnancy with Jordan, I thought of her as a girl the entire time. I even had Steven referring to the baby as 'she'. At the same time, I always figured my second would be a girl too, so that my oldest would have a sister. Now that I was pregnant for the second time, however, I just didn't feel it like I had with Jordan. By the time I had my ultrasound I was about 75% convinced that the baby was a boy. I told the tech as much, and he confirmed it. I was elated. I imagined our family as being perfect. We'd never have to "try" for a boy or girl because we already had one of each.
He was a different baby too. He kicked and rolled and tossed and turned constantly. If I rested my arms across my belly he kicked back as if to say "get off, it's crowded enough in here!" Steven couldn't believe how hard he pushed if Steven rested against my belly at night. It was so different than baby Jordan, who instantly stilled if touched too hard, as if shy at being discovered.
I was pregnant! The stick proved it, I was going to be a mommy a second time, to a second tiny baby. Steven happily gave me a hug, kissed the soon-to-be big sister and headed off to work.
I went about my day, thinking baby thoughts and caring for my very lively, strong willed 15 month old daughter. Little did I know how much joy a new baby would bring to her life! By the end of the day I had found a midwife.
The pregnancy was good, with only a scare or two. Early on I had some bleeding, and I spend the day in tears convinced I was having a miscarriage while my poor husband looked on with love and concern in his eyes, not really sure what to say, or how to help. thankfully, it turned out to be nothing serious, and went away after a few days, leaving my baby to thrive. Another time I had eaten part of a chicken burger, only to discover a few bites in that the chicken was half raw. Of course the sensible thing would be to call the midwife in a panic over having contracted salmonella. Again - no big deal.
My midwife appointments were great. her "office" was a room with a couch, a couple of easy chairs, a coffee table and some toys for Jordan to play with. Gone were the bright lights and the paper lined examining table of the doctor's office. She'd schedule at least an hour with me to leave plenty of time for a quick exam and then a chat about birth, my previous experience, my concerns, my toddler, anything. I could use as much or as little of the time as I needed without her checking her watch or dashing off to the next patient.
It was during these visits that Steven and I talked about a home birth. Our first birth experience had been somewhat unpleasant (you'll have to wait for June for that one!) and I was convinced that away from the hospital and with a midwife and her natural birth tricks that this birth would be better.
At around 20 weeks we went for our ultrasound. I had talked Steven into letting me find out the sex of the baby - or - I had decided to find out the sex of the baby and I had talked him into reluctantly agreeing. I always knew I'd have a girl first. I just knew it. I was the oldest, my mom was the oldest and my maternal grandma was the oldest child her her family. I was going to have a girl first and keep the chain going. During my pregnancy with Jordan, I thought of her as a girl the entire time. I even had Steven referring to the baby as 'she'. At the same time, I always figured my second would be a girl too, so that my oldest would have a sister. Now that I was pregnant for the second time, however, I just didn't feel it like I had with Jordan. By the time I had my ultrasound I was about 75% convinced that the baby was a boy. I told the tech as much, and he confirmed it. I was elated. I imagined our family as being perfect. We'd never have to "try" for a boy or girl because we already had one of each.
He was a different baby too. He kicked and rolled and tossed and turned constantly. If I rested my arms across my belly he kicked back as if to say "get off, it's crowded enough in here!" Steven couldn't believe how hard he pushed if Steven rested against my belly at night. It was so different than baby Jordan, who instantly stilled if touched too hard, as if shy at being discovered.
*****
I was late - and annoyed about it. Every morning when I woke up to the birds chirping and the sun streaming through the windows and there were no signs of labour I was madder still. To be fair, my actual due date wasn't until May 1st, and this was April, but I still felt late. 37 weeks had come and gone, and every pregnant woman knows that 37 weeks is full-term and secretly hopes to have her baby at 37 weeks (40 weeks is the due date). Jordan had been five days early. Five days early had come and gone too - but still no baby. Boy was I mad. I think I may have even told the baby once or twice to get out because Mommy was starting to get mad. Maybe he was scared.
Finally, on April 29th, Steven and I decided that if I really wanted to have the baby at home in our room (he was in full favor of it) we should probably get things ready. We hauled out some old towels, some older sheets, the plastic to cover the bed under the sheets, the bassinet and a couple of our new boy sleepers. We pushed our bed to one side of our very large bedroom so there would be room around the pool for the midwives. We were confident that we were prepared for baby, whenever he finally showed up. Then Steven left to go check on something at his gas station, and I called my mom. By 11 o'clock Steven was home and we snuggled up to sleep, our baby trying to kick Daddy's arm off his mommy's belly.
Finally, on April 29th, Steven and I decided that if I really wanted to have the baby at home in our room (he was in full favor of it) we should probably get things ready. We hauled out some old towels, some older sheets, the plastic to cover the bed under the sheets, the bassinet and a couple of our new boy sleepers. We pushed our bed to one side of our very large bedroom so there would be room around the pool for the midwives. We were confident that we were prepared for baby, whenever he finally showed up. Then Steven left to go check on something at his gas station, and I called my mom. By 11 o'clock Steven was home and we snuggled up to sleep, our baby trying to kick Daddy's arm off his mommy's belly.
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