February 9th at 6:55pm, Clementine Isabel Weir was born.
And I went from this:
To this:
8lbs and 14oz, our not so little bundle is as sweet as her name and was well worth the intensely long ordeal it took to bring her into our lives.
At 3am on Sunday Feb 8th, my water broke. Ecstatic is not the word to describe how Brad and I both felt to know that the little baby we'd been waiting FOREVER to meet would be here within hours.
Since we live just blocks from the hospital, we went in to be assessed.
We were told I was dilated about 3cm and that we could go home, but they didn't expect we'd be gone long.
We went home, and back to sleep in fits and spurts. The excitement was just a bit too much.
I was having contractions, but they were about 6 minutes apart, so by 1:30pm we decided to go back in for another check up.
To our GREAT disappointment we learned that, in fact, the original nurse had been mistaken, and I was still only about 2cms dilated.
Ugh.
We left the hospital again and were instructed to return by 5:30pm.
At 6pm an interveinous was put in my hand, and I began an Oxitocin drip to induce contractions. By 10pm my contractions were becoming increasingly intense and I was given an Epidural with the idea that I would try to sleep through the night, and progress as painlessly as possible until morning.
And so began the longest night of my life.
Brad slept on a less than comfortable mattress on the floor beside my bed and I tried to sleep through mild contractions and a blood pressure machine that squeezed my arm every 15 minutes. Not happening. At 4am they gave me a sleeping pill and I drifted off until...until I don't know actually.
By morning I had dilated to 4cms and the scenario carried out throughout the day until about 5pm when I was told I was finally dilated to 10cms, was 100% effaced, and could PUSH PUSH PUSH!
And push I did.
For about 2 hours until the Doctor arrived and said I had 15 minutes to keep trying and then, in the interest of protecting a baby that had been without amniotic fluid for about 36 hours, I would have to have a c-section.
I cried.
I cried so hard.
I'm crying now just writing about it.
I know that a c-section doesn't mean failure, but that's what I felt. An overwhelming sense of failure, and exhaustion.
I pushed my heart out for the full 15 minutes, but to no avail.
And then I went into cruise control. I asked the doctors not to explain any of the details of the surgery and, as they increased my epidural and the numbness took over, I went some place I've never been before and just let it happen.
Not that I had a choice really.
There's only so much protesting one can do with her arms and legs strapped down like a beached whale about to be gutted.
It was all over in 20 minutes.
I don't remember much to be honest.
There was some tugging, and pulling, and pressure, and then Brad shouting "It's a GIRL!" and tears, and the song Daughter by Pearl Jam on the radio sent from some satellite in Heaven (they're Brad's favourite band), and cheering, and then this face I've been waiting to see for 40 weeks was an inch from my face, and then it wasn't, and more tears, and oh my God I can breathe again.
We stayed in the hospital until Friday recouperating and getting to know each other.
The nurses were totally amazing and, despite the pain of beginning the healing process, we had a lovely, memorable week at the Almonte General Hospital.
Today little Clementine weighed in at 9lbs 5oz and is doing just swimmingly in her new home.
She looks like her daddy, but has her mommy's nose and is just cute as a button.
She is a really good girl (though I have no disillusions that this could change in a heartbeat) and operates in 3 hour increments.
Eat 30 mins, Sleep 2.5hrs, repeat. We know. We're very lucky.
We're getting more sleep than we could have dreamt of having with a newborn and are truly enjoying our new roles as parents.
And now she's screaming :)
Gotta run!
Love and booby breath,
Em and Clem
