I’m sitting in a coffee shop for the first time away from our baby for “pleasure” and not an errand. Spoiler alert: baby girl arrived, The Longest Shortest Time ago. Healthy and sweet she’s here and she’s doing great.
I’ve missed writing on a really basic level but have also no idea how anyone with a newborn manages to put words together to form sentences in everyday life, let alone log in to a thing and type them out for other people to read. I’m making excuses for myself and this post will likely get rambly, both because I’m tired and because I have so much I want to say.
I’ll pick up where I left off in January, though. (Trigger warning: decreased fetal movement, induction, early labour.) That trigger warning says a lot already but hopefully anyone reading and holding their breath a little feels like they can continue to read on, knowing that this story ends well. I also realize that some of what I’ll describe will be extremely triggering for anyone who has lost a baby without explanation at full term. (Big hugs and love to you brave mamas.)
In my last post I talked about how baby girl’s lack of movement had been causing me anxiety. Well, the day after I wrote that, we ended up at our midwives clinic for a non-stress test. After two of those without enough movement to reassure our midwife, we headed to the hospital for an ultrasound. The OB on call was a lovely soft-spoken man with an Irish accent who showed us baby girl on the screen and, I kid you not, said she was being lazy. He said everything looked okay but between him and our midwife they didn’t feel good about sending us home. There was no reason why her movements had decreased, but she wasn’t moving around enough to reassure anyone. We all agreed that we should get her out. I had a moment to mourn my planned birth at the birth centre, knowing full well that plans often don’t go as we imagine, took a deep breath and was admitted for induction. I felt surprisingly calm, and also reassured by the people who were caring for me. I have no idea how or why. I’m writing this four months out and maybe I’ve just forgotten the details of how I felt. But I know I didn’t cry, and I didn’t panic. N was with me and we were ready to meet her.
I’ll skip through some of the details of what happened because I don’t know that they’re helpful or necessary but I just want to share my experience because it was positive. And in PAL happy endings are what we all need. A long-ish story short: my induction went quickly, so quickly that my midwife had to interrupt a dinner date she was on to come back to the hospital to deliver our girl. I had no time for drugs and after about four hours of contractions and 20 minutes of pushing she was in my arms, screaming out immediately to let us know she was okay. On January 15th our little Blue Monday baby had arrived safe and sound. Six pounds, four ounces of joy.
There’s so much more I want to say but am just now feeling the itch to write things down again. I will be back, hopefully with some regularity.
We call Odin’s little sister Joanie April.