She’s here – our third little one – Vivian Louise.
I didn’t consistently update at all throughout this pregnancy. Not for lack of things to say (though the pregnancy itself was pretty routine!), but more for lack of time. From learning we were pregnant in March until the day she made her way into the world in November, we’ve had so much personal upheaval in our lives that we’ve barely been able to catch our breath.
We moved back to my hometown, less than a year after having moved away. That brought it’s own challenges (I don’t recommend moving while pregnant), but we came back because we couldn’t pass up an opportunity that had been presented to us. We moved in August, which also meant a new school for Ezra (and a new preschool for Penny), then a new job, and we were in the midst of trying to nail down a new routine.
Looking back now, the last 10 months have felt like 10 years. But, here we are, and it’s May now and our third baby is six months old.
I thought it was time to share her birth story 🙂
Welcome to this wild and crazy world, Vivian.
The weekend Vivian was born, I was starting to feel like she would never arrive. My contractions had been coming and going for two days with no clear pattern and no promise of making any real progress. Until Sunday which, of course, was the day I decided we should all go downtown for a holiday market. I think it was all the walking that did it. While we we were there, my contractions suddenly started showing a consistent pattern of being 8-10 minutes apart and lasting for about thirty seconds. They also started becoming more intense.
We left the market, and decided to grab an early dinner, at Skyline (haha). I called my mom to let her know what was happening, and make sure she’d be able to take Ezra and Penny should I have the baby that night. I was convinced, though, that the baby wouldn’t be coming for at least another day. With both Ezra and Penny, my labor always slowed once I had an epidural and I was intent on getting an epidural this time around, too.
After dinner, we came home and I started doing some last minute things I hadn’t yet gotten to: packing a hospital bag, packing the diaper bag, last minute work tasks, packing the kids’ bags for my mom’s house and so on. All the while, the contractions were beginning to come closer together and lasting up to a minute at that point.
By 9 o’clock, we decided it was time to take the kids to my mom’s and start making our way to the hospital. The contractions were roughly 4-6 minutes apart, and lasting for a minute at least. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but I also didn’t want to get to the hospital too late. By the time we got there, and got into triage, the contractions were getting more painful but I could still talk through them.
For some reason, the monitors were having a hard time picking up my contractions and so they wouldn’t admit me. I was checked, and was 3-4 cm and, after having been in triage for about an hour, no progress was made. The triage nurse suggested we walk the maternity hall and see if that would help anything. At 10:50, we started walking. Within 30 minutes, I’d had 10 contractions and each one was more and more painful – to the point where I had to stop walking and began to feel intense pressure.
We headed back to triage and I asked to be checked again. By then, the contractions were 3-4 minutes apart and were becoming unbearable. A new nurse came in to check and I had gone from 3-4 cm to 8-9 cm in just 30 minutes. She immediately yelled for an IV and I was admitted, and wheeled to a delivery room. The one thing I kept asking was – can I still have an epidural?! They drew blood to order one, but deep down I knew it wasn’t going to happen.
In the delivery room, I was hooked back up to monitors so they could track contractions and the baby’s heartbeat. The contractions were so intense, all I could do was scream through them. Something inside me was saying I needed to get off my back and on to my knees. I pulled off the monitors, got on my knees with my head at the foot of the bed, and with each contraction grabbed either side of the mattress and screamed into it. I suddenly felt my water break – which was the strangest feeling – and simultaneously felt like I should start pushing.
And that is what I did. I had an intense contraction and began pushing. I heard a nurse say she could see an ear. Soon after another contraction rolled through and I pushed as hard as I could. I felt the “ring of fire” that I’ve only ever read about in birth stories and knew it was close. I was determined to not have to push anymore, so I made that push count. I felt her head, her shoulders, and then her body come out and, last, I felt the cord. Because I was on my knees, she was born behind me. The doctor made it into the room just in time to catch her.
Nine minutes with 2 pushes, and Vivian was born – 11:58pm, 6lbs and 3oz.
To say it was an easy transition from two to three would be simplifying what life has become. Going from two to three is hard in some senses, but easy in others. Some things I did not forget – they’re just a part of me by now. Other things? Totally have no memory of (like how did I teach my other two babies to take naps?!). But we are working on it.
These last six months as I’ve re-learned some things of being a mother and reinforced others, caring for this baby who came at one of the most tumultuous times of our life, I’ve found myself learning to savor. She is probably our last baby. Every little moment counts for me – every scent, every squeal, every gummy smile. I’m less rigid with her (what bedtime routine?!). She shows me how fast time passes when I see her with her brother, who is now seven.
My hope for you, Vivian, is that you stay as fearless as you were the day you decided to be born. We love you <3
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