Tag Archives: Pregnancy

The last of my children is no longer a teenager

Twenty years ago today I went into the hospital to have my pregnancy induced for the birth of my third and final child. It took twelve hours for the induction to put me into labour and have the little guy start to make his way out of me. This meant for twelve hours I would not only have the enjoyment of labour pains, but vomiting, the medicine the doctor gives you to induce labour makes me quite ill, as it did for my two previous inductions. I had an epidural so the labour pains were quite manageable but when it comes time to push, they stop the epidural and you feel the extreme pain of labour. Okay for some woman, labour is as easy as eating a piece of cake but for me, well lets be honest it is just plain hell. For my first child, the entire process took twenty-four hours, for the second twelve hours, and another twelve for the final bundle of joy kid.

Finally, when he was ready to come down the birth canal I had to push. Well try pushing after vomiting off and on for twelve hours, I was tired and to be honest I suck at pushing. Luckily the vomiting had not stopped for me, so every time I puked, I was also pushing. Who knew you used the same muscles to wretch food from your stomach and to push a baby out of your uterus? Eventually my son’s head entered the world and the doctor asked me if I wanted to feel it. Well let me tell you right now, if the doctor asks you this question, don’t do it! I touched his head, and yelled “YUCK”. The doctor being quite surprised at my response, laughed and said it wasn’t “YUCK”, it was “beautiful”. Yeah, well he’s crazy. The head is slimy and gooey. I couldn’t see the head, being that I was still vomiting and apparently pushing, so beautiful, sure I guess.

Eventually our son came out and I was given the rest of the epidural medicine to try to give me some pain relief (my third pregnancy was my last because I have back problems and it was just to hard on me). I was cleaned up, and put in a wheelchair so my husband could bring our daughters in to see their new brother. After the doctor left, my husband took our daughters home, the nurses then left, and said they would be back in a few minutes to take me to my room. Well they lied, they forgot about me. So there I am sitting in a wheelchair, I can’t feel anything from the waist down due to the epidural, and I am holding my son, which is the precise time he found his lungs. So for a good thirty minutes I’m left holding a screaming child and I can’t move, I don’t have the strength to wheel the wheelchair with one hand, so I do what every woman does after twelve gruelling hours of labour, I cry. The boy is screaming and I am crying. Eventually a nurse finally returned, apologized profusely and took me to my room, while I was still holding the screaming baby.

Happy birthday son, your mom loves you.

The young man and his stuffed moose.

The young man and his stuffed moose.

Who knew there were so many choices ~ Condoms

A few years ago, hubby and I decided to be proactive parents and purchase condoms for our teenagers. Now we thought this would be an easy task, I mean condoms are condoms and when we were teenagers there were not many choices. Off we went to our nearest pharmacy and weren’t we surprised when what we saw was not just a few condoms but an entire wall of condoms. There were coloured, tinted, dry or powdered, ribbed, studded, textured, lubricated, non-lubricated and of course flavoured (eww). As we looked at the wall, we giggled like teenagers buying their first condom for that very important night.

After we finally settled down, we looked at the display seriously. We had no idea what to buy. Obviously we wanted a condom that would stop a pregnancy from occurring and we wanted one that would stop STD’s (sexually transmitted diseases). So after much thought, more giggling, we decided on the old standby, the Trojan condom. Seeing as it had been around for years, it must work. So no coloured, tinted, studded, textured or flavoured, just one heavy-duty condom. When we arrived home with our package, I opened it and put them in the top drawer in the upstairs bathroom. We told the teenagers there would be no questions asked, just take a condom or two when needed and when the drawer was empty, we would replace them.

A few years went by and though it looked like a few had gone missing the majority of condoms were still in the upstairs drawer, yes we bought the largest package available, and no I don’t know why either. So during one our dinner time conversations (where in our family everything is discussed) we asked how come there were so many condoms still in the drawer? Immediately, our eldest spoke and said “Mom, dad, you guy’s bought heavy-duty condoms, you can’t feel a thing with them”, laughter ensued as I tried to explain that what we were looking for was utmost safety, and we honestly didn’t even consider feeling. She and the other two then added that if they needed condoms they would buy their own. Well, the heavy-duty condoms are there if you need them and again we will replace them, maybe with something less heavy-duty.

Are you proactive parents? Would you peruse the condom aisle?

Condoms

My birthing experiences

I am blogging about my birthing experiences to support a blogger led initiative to raise money for Save The Children’s Build It For Babies campaign.

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I had my first child when I was twenty-eight years old. It was nine months of morning sickness, except that the morning sickness was morning, noon, and night. It didn’t matter what I did. I would eat crackers before moving out of bed or I would eat nothing, either way, I would vomit. I vomited everywhere, at home, at friends, on my walk to work (that was a joy).  My co-worker once asked why I looked like, well crap in the morning, gee, I just vomited in a parking lot. Even with all the vomiting I somehow managed to gain forty pounds and my gynecologist told me it was time to snack only on carrots. I hate carrots.  The weight gain was terrible on me because of a pre-existing back problem. When I found out that I was pregnant, my medications were stopped, and a special back brace was purchased for me to wear pretty much all the time. There were days though, that the pain was too much for me, and my family doctor would make a house call. He would inject me with a painkiller, in hopes that it would ease the pain, always reassuring me that my baby would be fine, and she was.

Fast forward to the birthing day. We only lived a few blocks away, but since I was huge, and had a very bad back, hubby drove me to the hospital. I didn’t go into labour, so labour was induced. At first, no problems, then the contractions started. I was given an epidural, which now meant I couldn’t move from the waist down. My husband with the aid of the nurse would turn me from side to side every hour, which of course meant I would start vomiting again, this went on for twenty-four hours. After twenty-four hours, I had finally dilated the ten centimetres necessary for birthing and my doctor said it was time to push. I laughed! There was no way in hell I was even going to try to push after having been sick all day and night, plus the epidural had made me completely useless (they had given me quite a bit more than normal because of my back). Out came the forceps and the baby was delivered with hubby exclaiming “it’s a, a girl!” Our daughter, all 7lbs 15oz was adorable.

Three years later, I went through the whole process again, this time labour was only twelve hours and I was able to push. I did yell at my gynecologist because he kept saying just one more push. Really? I also yelled at my husband for doing this to me again! Our second child was a girl, we were overjoyed. Middle child though was born with hip dysplasia and ended up having to wear a brace for the first six months of her life. She hated the brace! We would have to undo it when we changed her diaper, so putting her legs back in was not fun, she kicked and kicked.

Two years after middle child, I had my third and last. Again induced, another twelve hours of puking, and yelling at my husband. Per usual I was far too tired to once again push, but I continued to vomit which had the effect of pushing. So every time I was sick, the baby came out a bit more. When the head was somewhat out, my family doctor asked if I wanted to touch her head. Well I was game, but when I did, my initial reaction was a loud ‘YUCK’. Luckily, our son does not recall this.