The Daily Hailey

The much-requested post is here!!! I started writing out Laela’s birth story almost immediately once we arrived home. I am bursting with details and excitement to share her story with so many of you who are interested! But first…

My whole family feels so loved by my blog readers. Sooo many people came out of the woodwork in the last couple of weeks, saying they read regularly and were anticipating her birth. The frustrating part of writing a blog is not getting to know who reads. On another hand though, I think its good. I write how I want and don’t try to make it any specific way for any specific group of readers. But seriously, I was completely floored that so many of you take an interest in our lives. We truly feel loved over here.

So, without further ado, here’s Laela’s birth story. It is terribly long and starts back on induction day, but I want it all on record for me so thats what you’re getting. Enjoy!

 

We were sooo pleased the morning of September 29^th when we received “the call” at 8:04am. We were eight days overdue, and tentatively booked for an induction that Sunday morning, but, being that the hospital has been suffering with some overcrowding, we were fully expecting to be bumped at least one day if not two. But that didn’t have to be the case! We called my parents, who immediately got in their car and headed over to be with Dekker when he woke up, so that we could head out as soon as possible.

We were on the highway by 9am. Our bags were packed and we were optimistic! We recounted my labor with Dekker, reminiscing about how we got Cervidil and I was having contractions within 20 minutes. Plus, people say your second baby tends to come faster than the first. I was in active labor with Dekker for eight hours only, so we were optimistic that we would have our baby girl in our arms by mid-afternoon to early evening. We grabbed some breakfast at Tim Hortons before actually making our way to the hospital. What was the rush? Oh right! We were going to have our baby!!!

Upon arrival, we went straight to the Fetal Assessment doors and let ourselves up to the antepartum ward, as we had always been told to do. It is sooo convenient to be able to bypass emergency and go straight to baby land. We were put in a room that we shared with another couple, also working on delivering their second kid. Our side of the room was amazingly small, and there wasn’t even anywhere for Brady to sit except the end of my bed. Not ideal, but nothing would kill our mood. We didn’t have to wait too terribly long before we met the resident and a nurse or two. They were all completely lovely women, which helps every situation. They monitored the baby and my uterus for a while and once they were confident that everyone was strong enough, they gave me the talk about Cervidil, I signed a form, and it was time to be induced. I have never felt SO ready for something! The resident inserted the Cervidil and I was completely relieved! My cervical checks during my last pregnancy were excruciating, and this was so much better. Clearly, I was more relaxed and comfortable in the situation I was in.  Once it was in, I was stuck on monitors for one hour, off for one hour, and back on for twenty minutes. That was the plan, anyway.

Nothing happened. Not a blessed thing. So little happened, in fact, that they kept me hooked up longer at the end, trying to get babys heart rate to accelerate more. They weren’t happy with it, and I agreed that I wanted to make sure she was in perfect health before anything else happened. After four apple juices, she was moving a bunch more and they were finally happy with her. And then they said “Well, you’re good to go home then!” I was so surprised! That was not even close to an option with Dekker! But that was a different situation, where my water had already broken, so leaving wasn’t possible. But I had forgotten that its actually the norm to have Cervidil put in and go home for the night. They did offer that we could all stay if we desired, but Brady wouldn’t be allowed to stay after visiting hours if I wasn’t in active labor yet. We all agreed that nothing was happening and we’d just go home. They gave us a 24 hour pass, a phone number to call, and sent us packing. We were sooo discouraged.

To help get over my disappointment, Brady and I grabbed some Starbucks and went for a walk down by the river. Plus, walking can help bring on labor right? My body was absolutely aching but we walked a decent distance before finding a bench and taking a break. We had to decide what to do for night. Leave Dekker at my parents place? Bring him home? Stay the night at my parents? If I didn’t go into labor overnight, why should they have to do an extra night with a two year old? This is all where my head was, anyway. We called my mom, discussed everything, hung up, talked, called again, and finally came to the conclusion that we’d leave him there. My parents were more than thrilled to have him and we just couldn’t know how the evening was going to go. We also asked my parents if they would then have supper like normal with Dekker while we went on a date. They were happy to give us that, so we did. We hit Chianti for the first time in a year and a half. It was delicious.

We spent the evening at my parents’ place so we could see Deks for a few hours before he went to bed. It was nice to see him so happy in his environment. Brady even got to tuck him in, which are some of their best times together. So basically, the evening played out the best possible way it could have. We stayed and visited a little bit after Dekker went down, but headed home relatively quickly so I could blog about the day and wind down in the tub.

Once at home, I blogged and asked for prayers that tomorrow would then be the day for baby girl to be born. My doctor would be on call and we would have gotten a nice quiet evening, just Brady and I, right before her arrival. Sounded ideal. Once the blog was up, we made nachos and hopped in the tub for a soak. We probably got in around 11:30pm.

 

Start the clock.

 

11:45pm – Out of the blue, contractions came on full force. Every two minutes, I would have a very short but VERY significant contraction. They were maybe ten or fifteen seconds long, but impossible to speak through. I had to focus on my breathing. Within the first few, I was requiring Brady to press on my lower back and help me stay calm. Yes, this was literally minutes into “labor.”

12:00am – I called the number I had been given and asked if I should come in. The woman on the phone wasn’t too concerned and suggested I wait another half hour. She was hung up on the fact that the contractions were so short. Yet, in our four minute phone call, I had multiple contractions. She finally said “If it would help you feel better, sure, start coming soon. Worst case scenario, it slows down and you turn around.” Once we hung up, Brady and I sort of hemmed and hawed about what to do, but I was doing worse and worse. The drive would be miserable at best. We were worried that something had gone wrong with the Cervidil. Hypertension is the main side effect of this particular form of induction and I was scared that my body wasn’t reacting in a safe manor. We decided to leave as soon as we could. However, contractions every two minutes made getting up and ready a challenge. I got out of the tub and sat on the step. Contraction. Made it to the bed. Contraction. Threw on a tshirt. Contraction. And so on. In about twenty-ish minutes after the phone call, Brady had repacked all the things we had pulled out of the suitcase for the night, hauled everything outside again, put a garbage bag on my seat in case my water broke (our “worst case scenario” in the moment) and helped me through every contraction he was present for. I just took forever to get dressed and actually get out the door.

12:25am – We FINALLY got on the road. I won’t sugarcoat. That was the worst car ride of my life. I didn’t say a thing for the first chunk of it. I labored very quietly with Dekker, never moaning or crying, and I knew I could do it again. Just keep it together. From my town to the next closest one is 12 kms. Six minutes. I had three contractions. I kept count for a while, trying to convince myself that they weren’t as close together as I thought. But they were. Twenty more kilometers and ten contractions later, we were in the next town. It was so scary.  I stopped counting and just breathed. And moaned. I was sooo embarrassed.

We finally made it to Saskatoon and I started to kind of lose my cool. You know those women in movies who scream and swear their way through labor who you kind of just want to punch? I usually want to punch them, anyway. I became one. At the point where we were about five or six minutes from the hospital, I lost my cool. I screamed. I’m proud to say I only cursed once or twice, but I lost it. Mostly, I just screamed high and loud. And long. Poor Brady. I apologized over and over, and he assured me I just needed to do what I needed to do. So I kept screaming. I couldn’t help it. Seriously, if I could have stopped, I would have. But I couldn’t. I say again, I was so scared.

1:15am – The hospital!!! Brady had sped like a madman to get us there, and we arrived safely at the Fetal Assessment doors, as planned. We got to them as I was gearing up for probably my biggest and ugliest contraction yet. And the sliding glass doors were locked. A tiny sign stated that they would be reopened at 6am. Again, I lost it. We started banging on the doors like crazy people. We saw one doctor poke his head around the corner, and quickly duck back behind. Jerk. We were furious. Then that insane contraction came on. The only relief I was finding was being able to just let lose and scream, and also to sit. Brady tried desperately to support me, but we were panicking and terrified. He squatted and tried to let me sit on his lap and press on my back while I screamed and thrashed. Finally, a young woman timidly started coming down the hall, watching us. Brady started yelling “We need help!” and FINALLY!!!… she came running.

1:17am – She let us in, and Brady immediately told her I was in horrible labor and she needed to do something. Poor woman. She worked the night shift in a clerical position and had been debating whether to call security or let us in. She got us an elevator and said she would make sure we got to the fourth floor ok. Upon arrival, I had another mad contraction and plunked down on Bradys knee for my horrible screaming contraction. In a flash, four women were in the elevator with a wheelchair. The second I stopped screaming, they heaved me off of Brady, put me in the chair, and sprinted.

I get really weepy recapping these next few moments. I’m not even sharing this with you guys out loud, and I think I’d be in much worse shape if I were. Just please understand how scary the last hour-ish of my life had been. I was a complete mess, completely out of control of my body, and I was terrified that something horrible was happening. Little did I know…

I was wheeled into a delivery room and was told that I needed to get out of the wheelchair and get on the bed. I got out of the chair and made it to the bed. Somehow they had taken my pants from me. Go figure. I remember lots of choppy bits and pieces from the next few seconds. Brady insisting I needed something for my pain as soon as possible. People saying there was no time. How did they know that? Apparently the grunts in my screams were sure signs. Again, pain medication, pleeeaaase! Nope, no time. BULLSHIT! A wonderful nurse was beside me the entire time, holding my hand and telling me what we needed to do. I begged her for meds and she looked me right in the eye with so much love and said “I know you want that, but there’s no time. We’re just gonna have your baby!” Well I looked her right back in her eyes and screamed at her that she was lying to me. Full blown irrationality. I yelled “I know you want me to go natural but you don’t understand! I know you can give me something!!!” She just took it and held onto me with a death grip while I bawled and panicked.

Finally a doctor surfaced. He immediately examined me, searching for my Cervidil. Again, choppy memory. Did you find it? Are we sure its still in there? Check again! It was mayhem. Lots of screaming. The doctor tried once again to find the Cervidil that “did nothing” so few hours ago. Instead, my water burst with a vengeance, soaking the doctor, the resident, and at least two nurses. I heard a collective “Woah!” from everyone in the room. In this instance, the doctor whipped around to reach for gloves. There hadn’t been any time up to that point. Still screaming. The one brief second he was turned, the nurse holding my hand shouted, “The head is coming out!” I wasn’t pushing. Dr. Whoever whipped around and caught her head with his bare hands. Everyone yelled at me for just one solid push. Just one!

1:22am – Laela Hazel was born. Squawking and pink, she was laid on my chest, right onto Bradys band tshirt that he had grabbed in a panic from the closet less than one hour before. That was the last time I remember screaming, but what I said was along the lines of “Why do people do this on purpose?!” People laughed. Everything got super light hearted, and I apologized profusely for how I had acted and the things I had said. Somehow, that got more laughs. They left Laela on me for quite a while, and I tried to comprehend what had just happened. There’s a lot. Let’s recap.

11:45pm – labor started

12:25am – on the highway

1:15am – arrived at the hospital

1:17am – in the hospital

1:22am – delivered my daughter, au natural, by complete surprise!

Had that hesitant woman not let us into the hospital, we would have delivered Laela ourselves, on the stairs, directly in front of the hospital. If we had doddled anywhere for five minutes only, we would have had her in the car. While everything felt out of control, clearly Gods hand was in it.

For her official stats, Laela was 9lbs 10oz, and 21.5” tall. Her head size was 37.5cm and her chest was 36cm. She has super dark fuzzy hair, and lots of it. She cried out all her mucus with her unbelievably small cry before we even got to postpartum. Everything checked out. We didn’t hear her APGAR scores but we were sent up to recovery without any concerns.

In amongst all the chaos and panic, cord cutting was not offered to Brady, but we don’t feel too disappointed about that. It was truly the last thing on our minds. While delivery was rushed and scary, it turned out to be complication-free and healthy. Laela did have her hand up by her face and thanks to that, I tore a bit more than I would have otherwise. But that is SUCH a small thing in the big picture. We have her now, and she is safe.

Miss Laela, I could not be happier that you’re here! Your birth was a complete whirlwind and I admit that I was scared the entire time, but that does not make me feel any less love for you. Already you have pushed me to do things I never thought I could! I absolutely adore you! Never forget it.