and rigby makes four

Our birth story is rather short, as birth stories go. My memory of times and specifics is hazy, but I am going to do my best.

October 24 started out on a dreary note. I woke up and I was not in the throes of labour, which was something I had every reason to believe would happen. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. It was also raining again.

That morning my midwife arrived with a slip of paper and some lemon verbena. On the slip was a recipe for a midwife cocktail - guaranteed to start labour. I wasn't desperate, but was beginning to get there. We'd been trying various labour "inducers" for just over a week with no luck. The fact that I would be pushing a giant baby out, coupled with Andrew's rapidly passing time off, the nearing prospect of a hospital birth (for going over dates) and a upcoming visit from my mother, made the cocktail's guarantee appealing. We gathered the ingredients that morning and by 11:45a I was filling my wineglass with a not-altogether-unpleasant verbena smoothie.

Mid-way through drinking the cocktail my friend, Aly, stopped by to check in on us - hoping to meet the new Forsyth. After a quick chat we returned to our respective families and I finished my drink. I then took a walk in the sun that had snuck up on me, hoping to spring things into action. Lunch passed with nothing to show but some lemon-flavoured burps (yuck) and a few light contractions (I'd been contracting on and off for weeks, so tried to think nothing of it). Around 2:00p I talked to my midwife and told her that this might be the real thing this time - I then went back to doing laundry and getting all our birth stuff organised.

About 4:00p we decided this was, in fact, the real thing. My contractions felt stronger and seemed to be coming fairly quickly, as soon as I started timing them they were 4-8 minutes apart, but lasted less than a minute. I figured we had heaps of time. Andrew made dinner while I hung out with Sebastian, reading books and waiting for our friends. As I sat on the couch my contractions intensified - in half an hour they went from being a nuisance to being unbearable and suddenly felt like they were coming one right on top of the other. Andrew asked one of our friends to bring by her exercise ball and I took a shower.

When I got out of the shower our friends had arrived and I was *so* happy to have a ball to rock on (thanks, Corey!!!!!!). Things quickly intensified and we moved into the bedroom... here's where things get really hazy... I remember moments clearly - breathing Andrew in deeply and that giving me the power to bear my contractions. Throwing up (a lot), joking around, having my back rubbed and my hips squeezed, the pain in my back, long and wonderful massage... I also remember being scared and a little sad that things were rolling so quickly... and then things got really intense.

I had been holding on to worry and as soon as I gave myself permission to let that worry go my body kicked everything into high gear. In the span of a few moments I went from not fully dilated, through transition and to the need to push... first I felt the need to move - I got up on the bed and onto all fours and vomited (into a bowl - YAY) - then somehow I was on my back... Tracy left for a moment and in that time I suddenly and powerfully NEEDED to PUSH. She rushed back, told me to reach down and, holy shit, there was the head. I remember talking about pushing position, but the reality was my contractions were so close and the urge to push so big that I never did get off my back. Andrew was behind me the whole time, supporting me and giving me strength. Very quickly I pushed my baby out - I remember VERY clearly being told t slow down and stop pushing - never in my life have I felt so conflicted (knowing full-well that I really did need to slow down, lest I split open). It took what still feels like no time at all to push that baby's head out. The shoulders took another couple and then *woosh* there she was. They placed her on my belly and we looked down and saw girly bits!! It was an amazing moment - knowing our little nuclear family was complete.

What followed is, and will likely always be, a bit of a blur. I remember delivering the placenta, I remember feeling like a river was gushing out of me, I remember getting shots, being told to nurse, to look at my baby, not to worry... I remember the split second when I realised that if I fell asleep, I would end up in hospital. I remember the very tiny moment where I thought I would die. Then I remember gathering all my strength for my daughter, my son and my husband and resolving to get through this. I fought to stay lucid. I willed my body to stop bleeding. I concentrated on every single thing I could - her hair, his touch, the voices, the love... It stopped.

The storm passed and all was well. While everyone else had pizza, I had IV fluids, a pear and toast. I cuddled my daughter and my son (I think). I got up to go pee, but couldn't make it to standing. Andrew and Shannon changed the sheets right under me. I was allowed to go to sleep on the condition that I a) not be left alone and b) peed by morning.

I would spend the next three days in bed and week inside the house... but at least I got my home birth (minus some of the bliss I'd imagined, but complete with all the perks of being at home) and had my beautiful babe to keep me company.

Lilian Rigby Forsyth was born at 9:00pm on October 24, 2007, in the comfort of her own home. She weighed 9lbs 10oz. Lilian is for Andrew's grandmother and Rigby is an homage to the Beatles - and also to my family, who all love the Beatles. Go here to read a beautiful bit written by my wonderful husband on the origin of Rigby's name.

welcome to the world, little one.

After weeks of waiting, our daughter was born happily at home last night at 9PM after a mere 7 hours of labour (and 15 minutes of pushing).

Lilian Rigby Forsyth (Rigby to her friends), born October 24, 2007 weighing 9lbs 10oz. I had a wonderful, if very rapid, home birth - followed by a not-so-wonderful post-partum hemorrhage that has me chained to my bed for a few days. My midwives were incredible and managed to get the bleeding stopped without a dreaded trip to the hospital!

I'll get a birth story down and get the photos off the camera soon, but for now I am going to take advantage of my forced relaxation and go cuddle my baby.

today would be a good day to have a baby

Yup, the babe is still percolating in there. Yesterday I started to feel a little desperate - worrying about my mother's visit next weekend (one night only!) and Andrew's rapidly disappearing time off. Feeling trapped by my body, by the rain, by my self-doubt, I began questioning my decision to have a home-birth (again) and wondering if maybe we should just surrender to the medical establishment... I know better - but it is hitting that point where all the quiet comments from supportive not-quite-supporters are screaming in my head. All these stupid what-ifs looping through my head - I am have been a blind follower of the medicalisation of birth for most of my life, babies are born in hospitals, what am I trying to prove?

zero

Today is the day that I am assumed, based on my last period and an early ultrasound, to be due. I had a lovely midwife appointment that both my husband and son were able to attend - this is a special treat because Andrew usually needed to work on appointment days and has only been to a few.

I had my first internal exam - just a "good to know" exam, as I am pretty content not to know specific numbers - while up there, Tracy says the baby actually popped down and rubbed its little head on her fingers. You should have seen her face! She gave my membranes a quick sweep and was out. Sebastian was totally interested and very cool abut the whole thing - he kept encouraging the baby to come out. He is pretty excited for the birth, we've been reading a stack of books and he is developing a good understanding of what is going to happen. It took some hunting, but I was able to get a library copy of Welcome With Love by Jenni Overend. I am so glad we did - he reads it with such curiosity and excitement!

We're hoping for labour to come soon so that we can get more time off with Andrew - but have fully accepted that we have no real control over it. I am happy to report that I am ready, everything is in place, clean, organised, prepared - so I can now move on to the fun stuff. I have a couple crafts waiting in the wings, some books to read, movies to watch, and with a second full-time parent around, the time to get things done. Plus the luxuries of mornings in bed with a cup of coffee and my laptop, meals cooked for me and the ability to up and leave mid-day (to, say, go get milk) without it being a huge production.

Andrew seems to be having a harder time adjusting to life at home - but it has only been a day and a half. I have been pretty impatient with him, I really want him to "save me" and "give me a break" which means I expect him to simply walk in and do all the things I do every day. Not really fair, huh? Yeah - the fact that I am being an ass is crystal clear. I will need to work on that.

dropping the ball

I totally missed blog action day, which was monday. I don't even have anything to put up now.

I will post something relevant at a later date - when my brain isn't all wrapped up in baby stuff.

like a robin in spring

In my search for the perfect image to capture my nesting instinct I came across this beautiful print on Etsy called Feathering the Nest by margin a UK digital artist whose stuff I am now just completely in love with! If I ever get my shop set up and get something sold, her shop will be one of the first I hit up with my earnings.

As you can see from the rest of my blog - this print inspired a bit of a makeover. I am totally in love with the colour combination. So much so that the decorations I picked up yesterday for the baby's Birth-Day party also match.

Nearly finished with much of the physical nesting and feeling almost* as prepared as we will ever be. Yesterday, after an incident with Sears' catalogue department, which warrants its own blog, we got a car seat from Toys'R'Us.** The house keeps swinging from order to chaos in what seems like seconds. This morning, Andrew let me 'sleep in' while he cleaned up - and while I wrote out things like the birth plans and instructions to Sebastian's caregivers, Andrew got the living room and kitchen spotless.

We then went for brunch with my dad and my sister, Casey, returned home and somehow in that time the house became littered again. Luckily, due to all this frantic cleaning and tidying, all our messes are surface messes and are easy to clean. Speaking of - it sounds like I have some mystery dinner coming my way (I love it when my husband is all James Bond-like and won't give me any information... it is sexy). But I should likely do some tidying before he gets back, maybe clear the table at least.

**what's that? you'd like to spend your hard-earned money on us? well lucky you, we have a registry. just go to here and spend, spend, spend!!! what could be more fun?


*we just need a bowl for the placenta and a trip to the grocery store for food for everyone. If budget allows I'd also really like to pick up a bottle of champagne - but we are currently dead broke.

so after all that...

Not that I am not feeling together. My system for getting back into my systems may not be perfect but I did manage to get a crap-load done yesterday and today including:

• finally catching up on laundry (it has been a week since we were caught up last)
• going to the library in Richmond and getting books about babies for Sebastian
• making our loan payment early
• reading a bit more of Birthing From Within
• packing Sebastian's birth bag (in case he decides he doesn't want to stay with us during the birth or we end up transferring to hospital)
  

What I still need to:

• make letters and lists to save me from having to think or direct while in labour
• finish reading at a minimum the section of BFW where they describe pain management techniques
• 
  

could I really be this lazy?? yes, I could

I just sent my first giant mass email - informing folks that we have not had the baby yet - this is not really my style, but I can see the draw. Maybe I should set up a mailing list and do away with personal correspondence all together. There's something to ponder.

So that's the big news - no news.

I can see the end of this strange journey into second-time motherhood. The proximity of the end of the path surprises me because I have been so removed from the process of pregnancy this time around. This pregnancy has passed without the frantic studying of obstetrics my last pregnancy brought, it has passed without worrying about the music playing inside my uterus, or hearing and feeling every movement. It has passed without a constant counting down of days. The days, weeks and months have passed on their own - my body has grown and changed with my knowing at every moment exactly what is happening - my faith in my primal ability to grow and birth a child have been nearly unwavering.

This isn't to say I have been completely removed or ignorant of what is happening, it is just to say that so much else is going on I haven't been paying the same attention I did last time.

This past week has been one of sudden realisations and frantic preparing. I am now in full-on nesting mode, having made Andrew stay up with me long past bedtime to assemble our bassinet/co-sleeper. This thing came with the most irritatingly imprecise instructions - there were a minimum of three occasions where I was certain one of us was going to brain the other with a basket support bar. But, it is perfect and functional and best of all, was loaned to us by another family. I will therefore keep my complaining to a minimum.

Last night I stayed up late getting our lives on paper in some kind of order. I am generally the one left in charge of budgets and the like, despite my relative ineptitude, and while I have been getting pretty awesome I have to admit dropping a few balls. Mostly because my systems fell apart due to neglect and misuse, last night was like a late-night cram session - I got it all sorted out (knock on wood) and I am feeling quite together.

a gentle reminder

"one thing you need to do in in life is figure out what kind of person you want to be, and then be that person"

"would it be uncouth for my water to break on the steps of the Vancouver Club?"

Dinner at the fancy-pants club was fantastic! Everyone looked great and we were all on our best behaviour. I would have photos but in my pregnant state forgot to change the battery on my camera. The photo above is of the room we ate in... pretty fucking surreal. Sebastian was one of many young children in attendance and was amazingly well-behaved despite missing his afternoon nap. I enjoyed myself immensely, even though I was a little concerned that what I was writing off as false labour (that lasted the entire evening) might be more serious... turns out my gut was right and not just drunk off of turkey juice. Either way I was not about to let it stop me from gorging myself on everything in sight, I figured if it turned out to really be labour at least I would have eaten well beforehand.

The food was incredible - every single kind of holiday food you could imagine, plus a dessert table that included the requisite chocolate fountain. The homemade pumpkin pie lived up to the hype and was even served with fresh whipped cream... then there were the mini creme brulees, delicate chocolate mousse cups, raspberry tarts, something rich, unidentifiable and smothered in blueberries, and the heaps and heaps of stuff I did not have the pants space to try. While I doubt it will ever replace our traditional holiday dinners - where we gather around a meal where something has been burnt, something forgotten and always something spilled, traditional meals where the talk flows easily and comfortably and the distraction of a giant television screen is nearby - this holiday dinner was the perfect solution to our current state of familial upheaval.

My father takes possession of his new home next week and his normally impeccable abode is strewn with the detritus of moving and packing, Andrew's parents have only enough time in their new house to begin the long process of unpacking, and we, among other things, have been the somewhat reluctant* recipients of the excess of both moves.

I would, however, happily play the part of privileged daughter once or twice a year if it meant eating like that again...

*we *love* the shelving unit Andrew's parents have passed down to us - the energy and time it took to switch from our old furniture to the new, however, has left me frazzled and sore. But it is up, it is full, and on the bright side we sorted through some stuff that has been sitting since our own move last April.