It is my first Mother’s Day. I’ve had a lot of time to ‘do me’ today, thanks to my wonderful husband and son, and with it has come some much needed opportunities to think. In that thinking, I’ve been reflecting on O’s birth story and how he came to be. While full of gushy, wonderful moments, the experience of my pregnancy, birth and becoming a mom had so many humorous aspects to it. These aspects keep me smiling and laughing months later, and from them I have learned so much. Lessons that I feel are prudent to think about and mention these many moons later.

Here are the first five of ten. Enjoy!

1. During O’s gestation, it was noticed in an ultrasound that he had short femurs. As a result, I had to have monthly scans to ensure things were normal (I seriously have 25+ ultrasound photos of him, it got a little intense). Additionally, his short femur issue required our family be seen by the Maternal Fetal Medicine specialists at BC Children’s to be briefed and guided throughout his development. However, the specialists at MFM are super nerdy and can’t really take a joke, ever, both D and I tried. But guess who was laughing when O came out of my womb with perfectly, if not LONG, sized femurs? 

Lesson learned: sometimes, doctors and medical professionals know NOTHING. That nothingness can be infuriatingly hilarious at times.

2. My OBGYN was quite possibly one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met. His hair was flowing and looked out of a modeling shoot, when not on call he walked around with a bomber jacket on top of his scrubs (seriously) and carried all his papers in an *on point* leather messenger bag, and he was extremely attentive and caring. Anyone we mentioned him to at the hospital seemed to be madly in love with him and whenever he was there, he’d create a tizzy. Much to their loss, however, as our Douala later told us he was very happily gay and had humorously broken many, if not dozens, of the newer nurses hearts thus far. 

Lesson learned: gay guys are *still* pretty much the best ever.

3. O was breech a week and a half prior to my induction date. That caused quite the concern for me, ’cause it meant a c-section if he didn’t shift. In a desperate attempt to get him to move, D and I resorted to trying some pretty silly shit. One of them was me laying diagonally on an ironing board, head on the ground and with my feet up in the air… as my boobs smooshed my face and desperately tried to kill me. Another involved acupuncture and these things called moxie sticks, which were essentially rounded, long pieces of charcoal that we lit. After being lit, I was then prescribed to hoover them around my baby toes (yes, you read that right) for ten minutes to release their energy or some crap. I have never felt so friggin’ silly in my life, and poor D was in charge of helping me through this task — one which we didn’t know whether to cry or laugh through. O ended up flipping, however, and no c-section had to happen. 

Lesson learned: sense and logic tell you otherwise, but sometimes that naturopathy crap actually works! Or it serves as a good placebo for helping you think you made a difference. One of the two. :>

4. The day prior to my induction date I experienced a sudden increase of fluid draining (sorry for the TMI, that’s about as un-gross as I could put it). We were asked to come to the hospital to see if my water had broken and after a few hours, learned that it hadn’t. All throughout the nurses trying to figure that out, however, they kept asking me if I was having contractions. Nope, I told them, just the occasional back cramps (which no one, including myself, seemed to question). Eventually we were sent back home, but all that night as I slept I kept regularly having those back cramps. I’d literally wake up and have to do controlled breaths to get through them. But I still didn’t put two and two together. The next day and many hours later, when I was measured prior to the induction starting to see what method they were take, I was already 3cms dilated… ‘CAUSE THOSE WERE FRIGGIN’ CONTRACTIONS HAPPENING, YOU GOOF. Turns out, just like how it is with my period, I would go on to feel everything that happened in my labour in my back. 

Lesson learned: the idiocy of mommy brain sets in well BEFORE you ever give birth.. and likely never, ever goes away.

5. Once I got into the pains of active labour, all of which was back labour that I had to unfortunately and mostly lay on my back to endure (long story as to why), I reached a point of pain with no return. An epidural absolutely had to happen. When getting it, however, I was already using laughing gas (something they give you in delivery rooms in Canadian hospitals). I don’t exactly recall all the specifics that went into the epidural coming to be, as a result, and when they started asking me questions to gauge if they had given me a proper dosage, I couldn’t even think straight. Busily sucking down the laughing gas as if it was my last breath, they rubed pieces of ice down my preggo belly while asking me questions to gauge the effectiveness. Could I feel the ice? High as shit, I thought by feel they meant just the wetness, not the coldness. Incorrect! So, these poor dr’s kept confusingly trying to figure out why I was still using the gas to get through my contractions like my life depended it, even though I had the epidural. They kept asking me things my dumb brain couldn’t process, but eventually two and two came together and I was finally/happily delivered to planet numb, not able to feel both the wetness AND coldness. 

Lesson learned: it is probably best in life to generally stop one drug before starting the next. :>

If you’d like to read the second part of this series, here is the link.