Andrew and I were falling asleep standing up by the time we’d eaten a satisfying (if unhealthy) pizza dinner and were beyond ready to have a good night’s sleep. Well…as good as you can get in a room with 3 newborns, in a hospital, while being woken up every two hours to pump…
Andrew had gone home earlier in the day to get himself some toiletries and was ready to settle in with me that night so that we could both be there for Vaughan and each other. We were still in that critical 24 hour period, so although we were cautiously hopeful, we lived in fear of another visit from a NICU physician.
10pm arrived and I can’t remember the exact circumstances but Andrew had to leave the room. While he was gone, he ran into our night nurse who promptly informed him that because we were in a ‘ward room’ (God I hate those words!) he needed to leave. It was ‘inappropriate’ for him to stay over night and might make the other new mothers uncomfortable. No offense to those other new moms, but I my lack of concern for their feelings didn’t even come in to the picture…I just about flipped. So now we were going to be facing our first full night as a parents, with a fragile son in the NICU, alone… livid doesn’t even begin to describe my mood. I was also terrified. What if something happened to Vaughan and I was alone when I got the news?? Just the thought made my heart skip a beat.
Andrew reluctantly left, after a few choice words about the nurse on duty, and told me to keep my cell phone on…screw the hospital rules. He would be back before 8am and if I needed anything, anything at all, I was to call him and he’d be back within 15 minutes. So just that quickly, by 10:30 pm I was alone.
After one more session with the pump, the lights were turned off and I tried my best to get some sleep. I laid my hands across my empty belly and not for the first or last time, wished that Vaughan was still safe inside…giving me little kicks to know he was okay! At least then I’d had him with me…
The other babies in the room, of course, were all on different schedules and although I tried my best to drift off, it’s very hard to do with rotating crying from around the room and frustrated new mothers trying to get them to latch.
I should probably mention that Andrew and I appeared to have ended up in the ‘Teen Mom’ room. All three of my roommates were well under 20 years old and the conversations we overheard between them and their ‘baby daddies’ would have been laughable if they weren’t so sad. If I’d heard one more argument over a baby’s last name or who would be watching them when they went back to high school I would probably have lost my mind. Not that some young mothers aren’t just as capable as older ones, but in the dark I was left to ponder the unfairness of these clearly unprepared girls having large, healthy babies. I had religiously followed every health guideline for my pregnancy, and still here I was, stuck in limbo…a mother with no baby by her side! What a cosmic kick in the pants…
After having all of these worries and questions swirling around my head I gave up on sleep and dragged my swollen, tired self back down the hallway to the NICU to sit with Vaughan, reaching in to touch him as I waited for the longest hours of the night to pass. I finally drifted off for a few hours around 4 am…just after our 24 hour were up and Vaughan was still with us.
Resting my hand on our tiny boy. Less than 24 hours old in this picture!
Vaughan’s first day is almost a blur to me at this point, but I’m sure that functioning on 2 hrs of sleep, rioting emotions, and learning the ins and outs of the NICU, on top of the physical side effects of giving birth, are bound to mess with one’s mind!
Andrew and I napped for a couple of hours back in our ‘Mother and Baby’ room, somewhat less bitter with the other new parents and their chubby pink babies…but only slightly…
We were woken up by a nurse who’s arms were filled with lots of clear plastic bottles, tubes and syringes, while wheeling a strange green box into my cube. It was time to learn to pump! Andrew took a break while the nurse showed me how to hook up the bottles and myself to the hospital grade breast pump…and let me tell you, turning that sucker (pun intended) on for the first time was something I’ll never forget! I about hit the ceiling I jumped so high…and tried my best to relax and let it do it’s thing…I felt so much more in control at that moment, I was finally able to do something useful for my baby! Now I could go on about the pump for a while, it and I have an intensely personal relationship even almost 12 months later, but I’ll save that for a later date…excited?
After I did my time with the pump Andrew and I laid down a bit while we waited for family to arrive. Lunch was delivered….salmon sandwiches and tomato juice. Gag! I remember this purely for the extreme grossness of the meal. I promptly send Andrew out for more edible fare just as our first visitors walked in the doors. Vaughan was one popular boy! On his first day alone he met all 5 of his grandparents, an uncle, a cousin and two of our great friends! The NICU only allows two people at the bedside at a time so it was a veritable rotating door of visitors taking the long walk to that busy ‘Back Room’.
Everyone was in awe of our tiny miracle but very afraid to touch him. Andrew and I would open the side hatch to his isolette and lay our hands on him while the visitors looked on. He even showed his large personality but throwing several silent temper tantrums, waving those fragile arms and legs with a gusto! I say silent temper tantrums here because the ventilator cut off his ability to make any noise since it went down his throat by his voice box. You could see him opening his mouth to scream but no sound would come out! This freaked me out a bit because his heart monitor would speed up, but the nurses would come over, look in and smile before heading back to their work. He was doing just fine they assured me the zillion time I asked….and I asked a lot…
Sitting at his bedside was another one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. We weren’t able to hold him yet so we just sat and stared at him, reaching in to touch him for short periods of time before alternating glances between him and his monitor. Now the monitors are fabulous things, they keep track of breathing, heart rate and oxygen saturation and have loud obnoxious buzzers that go off when the readings aren’t ideal. However it’s hard to watch them and hold your breath each time one stat dips or spikes…waiting for it to go back to normal. Vaughan had a few blips with his heart rate but luckily for us he always evened himself right out. We met with the resident again who looked much happier with Vaughan’s progress and finally reverted back to a small fraction of our ‘new parent’ euphoria.
Now as for myself, this day was a bit harder on me physically. On top of my significant weight gain from the pregnancy I also began to swell…and swell… No one had mentioned to me that you could balloon up after giving birth!! I thought my days of swollen ankles were in the past but apparently not. Water retention is never kind to your looks and let me tell you how fabulous it is on a day when everyone wants to take your picture! So glad my swollen face will now live on forever in digital media….
Swollen Mommy visiting Vaughan on Day 1 in the NICU.
There were also two other nifty physical aftereffects I discovered on my own that day and wished that someone had shared with me before my delivery. Number one was that you get contractions when you pump. I’d thought that type of pain was in my past…but nope! So not only do I have some strange, cold plastic molesting my upper half…I get to relive the discomfort of the night before…perfect! Also I didn’t realize that giving birth also results in the period from hell. Forget ‘Always’ and pack the ‘Depends’! I thought pregnancy made me feel like I’d lost control of my body but after delivery was a whole new ballgame…The nurses continued to push a large selection of pills on me to assure my comfort during this mess, but I picked and chose which ones I needed…who wants to be all doped up when there are so many exciting things going on!
After a day of running back and forth to the NICU, visiting with family, meeting with doctors for both myself and Vaughan, and pumping every two hours Andrew and I were exhausted and ready to cuddle in for a more relaxing evening…yeah right…
Finally we were moved out of recovery and into a room to wait for news of Vaughan.
Now, while we’d been in Triage, Nicole had assured me that, because our son would likely spend some time in the NICU, the hospital would try to get me a private or semi-private room, rather than place me in a ward with a bunch of other new Mommies and their robust, full-term bundles of joy. Of course, when we got out of recovery, all of the private and semi-private rooms were taken. Andrew and I were admitted to another window bed, this time in a Mother and Baby room….full of happy Mommies, Daddies and their new babies. While we waited to hear if our son was going to make it through his first few hours on earth, we got to listen to those other, full-term, healthy babies cry. We got to hear parents comforting their new sons and daughters, giggling at the funny faces they made. If I was ever asked to define ‘torture’, that night would definitely be my prime example…Andrew and I kept asking ourselves, and God, why all of these other families got to cuddle their new members while we were left alone, in the dark, wondering if we were again a family of two.
We waited….and waited….and waited…
The nurse came in to check on me twice an hour, and each time she pulled back the curtain Andrew and I took a deep breath and asked if anyone had heard news about Vaughan. We were disappointed time and time again…’Nothing yet’, we were told. Finally, after 6am, we started to become paranoid…maybe the worst had happened and no one wanted to tell us…maybe they’d found some other problem and he was too critical to leave and tell us the news…there were any number of scenarios running through our heads, logical and not, while we waited for someone to tell us something…anything!
Finally just after 7am the nurse showed up with a wheelchair, smiling and asked us if we wanted to go and visit our son. Andrew and I once again burst into tears (it’s a wonder dehydration didn’t come into play that night…I sincerely hope I never have cause to cry that much again in my life) before giving a resounding ‘YES!’ and practically tripping over each other on our way out of my ‘cube’. That wheelchair ride to the NICU was probably one of the longest of my life. We arrived at the NICU and were wheeled through the main doors, past the nurses station and into the ‘Back Room’.
The ‘Back Room’ is where the critical babies are monitored. They have one-on-one nurse care and are usually on ventilators, oxygen and numerous other alarms, buzzers, drips and wires.
They pulled to a stop beside a blanket covered isolette and pulled back the edge. Inside we saw our tiny miracle boy, cuddled up on his side. We could barely see anything about him besides his spindly arms and legs, he had so many wires and attachments! Vaughan had been placed on an oscillating ventilator and had IV tubes inserted into his umbilical cord, but he was still showing he had spirit by wiggling his tiny limbs. More tears ensued…and we were almost too scared to breathe as we looked into his plastic case. The nurse asked us if we wanted to touch him and we sanitized thoroughly before gently placing our hands into the isolette and laying our hands on our son for the first time. We got to feel his tiny body heat our hands and finally felt somewhat of a sense of peace. We sat like that, just touching him, for a while, before finally heading back to our room and allowing ourselves a few hours of much needed sleep.
**As a forewarning, these next few chapters will be a little light on the humorous anecdotes but I’m hoping you’ll find them just as interesting as the previous stories! **
After the excitement and relief of hearing our tiny miracle’s first cries, Andrew and I were ecstatic to reach our bed in the Recovery room and bask in that ‘new parent’ glow. The two of us laughed, hugged and talked about how excited we were to go and meet our son once all three of us were settled into rooms.
One of the doctors came to check on me and everything looked perfect. Since I’d had such minimal time on the epidural , I was actually ready to get up and going only a half an hour after giving birth! I definitely feel for Mommies with stitches or C-sections, and appreciate how lucky we were that the delivery process, for us, was a relative breeze. However, Andrew maintains that with all of the complications and worry I had during the pregnancy, we deserved to have at least one thing go well! Especially considering what happened next…
Just after 4am, as we were talking about our perfect, amazing new baby, the NICU resident who’d spoken to us in Triage arrived. He had a strange look on his face and told us that he needed to speak to us…privately. I can’t even begin to describe how I felt in that moment. My hear literally skipped out of my chest and across the floor…I felt like I was going to be sick…no one starts off good news with this kind of an opening.
Andrew came to my side and held my hand as the doctor began his speech. Vaughan had been doing great just after birth, however; he had struggled a bit to catch his breath. This was just what they’d warned us about so nothing crazy here. To help him out they’d given him the drug ‘Surfactant’.
Now this would be the appropriate time to insert some fun facts about surfactant. It’s actually a substance that each of us has in our bodies naturally. It’s formed at around 36 weeks of gestation and coats the lungs. Essentially it makes them slippery, so that when you breath out your lungs don’t stick together. This makes the process of breathing a heck of a lot easier and involves much less energy. Preemies tend to have difficulties breathing because their lungs are still ‘sticky’; so you’ll see their chests heaving…and when they get tired they’ll ‘coast’ or skip breaths. Fortunately there is an injection of this wonderful substance that can be administered to pre-term babies, and in some cases eliminate the need for a ventilator all together!
Now for the scary part. The medication is administered in three doses. Vaughan got through the first two like a champ, however; the third dose wasn’t so kind.. His poor little body reacted like it was drowning. His heart rate slowed to less than 60 bpm (normal for a newborn is 120 – 160 bpm) and his oxygen saturation levels registered at 0% (normal being 98-100%), essentially indicating that he’d stopped breathing. At this point they considered him ‘crashed’ and began chest compressions, intubation and resuscitation efforts. According to the doctor this went on for some 15 minutes before his stats came up to appropriate levels and he came to see us in recovery.
Andrew and I both stared at the resident with silent tears running down our faces. How could we have been celebrating when our baby was fighting for his life in the next room…and we never even knew! The poor resident was extremely flustered and since Andrew and I weren’t giving him any verbal reaction he kept talking. He told us that the reaction to the medication was so rare that there aren’t many papers on it. He told us how ‘lucky’ we were that they had been able to bring up Vaughan’s stats since ‘crashing’ babies are temperamental, and the likelihood of any permanent damage due to oxygen deprivation was minimal. He told us that they thought the crash was a result of the Surfactant, but then again, being a preemie, Vaughan could have developmental issues that caused the danger. The next 24 hours would be critical and they couldn’t make any guarantees that everything would be all right. This broke my heart because those were the only 5 words I was interested in hearing at that point.
The resident continued on to tell us that it would be a while before we’d be able to visit the NICU now since Vaughan needed very close monitoring but someone would come and get us when everything was more calm…likely 2 or 3 hours from then. I couldn’t even process this information….they were telling me that our baby, our beautiful son, might be losing his fight and we had to wait and see???
Nicole finally cut the doctor off and told him we understood…Andrew and I were both too upset to form any words or thoughts so we just cried silently in the recovery room and held each other…
To start off this chapter I should probably mention that at one of our initial pre-natal appointments, and confirmed by our first ultrasounds, baby Richardson was supposed to have arrived into the world on Sunday November 7th 2010. My water broke on Tuesday September 14th…8 weeks ahead of schedule.
Now at this point we’d entered the morning of September 15th and were anxiously awaiting instructions while cooling our heels in the Delivery room…
Once they’d hefted me onto the table and asked how I was feeling (peachy thank you…blessedly numb below the waist…yippee!), Nicole and the doctor asked me if I minded if they went for their break. A quick coffee and they’d be right back they said…most 1st time mothers can push for up to 2 hours they told us…and I’d hate to sound like a 6 year old but PFFFFFT! This sage bit of wisdom was somewhat like the “Oh, everything looks just fine. You won’t be having a baby tonight” advice we were offered upon our arrival in Triage…and everyone has seen how well that one turned out!
Anyway, Andrew and I, being the laid back parents-to-be that we were, agreed that a break was in order and thus were left with the one new nurse to dredge up small talk all while lying with my hospital gown pulled to my waist and feet splayed in stainless steel stirrups….attractive…
The nurse, rescuing us from awkward silence, suggested that a few ‘practice pushes’ were in order and being game I bore down and gave it my all. We were supposed to do three of these, however; after two the nurse stopped me and leaped for the phone, paging Nicole and our doctor to get themselves back to Delivery ASAP. Apparently baby Richardson didn’t feel that any practice was necessary and was about to make his appearance in front of a significantly smaller audience. Nicole and the doctor rushed into the room and frantically attempted to glove up before anything else exciting went down. Each contraction was a race at this point and I remember the doctor instructing me not to push…she only had one glove on.
Once everyone was in position (remarkable how fast things move with the proper motivation) I was told to get back to pushing. One more good push and the doctor was yelling at me to stop… Now, I don’t know how other pregnant women feel but the urge to push is pretty overwhelming and it is hard to hold back at this point. Also, since baby Richardson was smaller than your average baby, I didn’t actually have to push…my body was doing it for me in time to each contraction. However, stopping was necessary as our baby had the cord wrapped twice around his neck and they were worried that additional pushes would tighten it, or rip it in two. The doctor quickly did her thing and without another push Vaughan William Richardson entered the world at 3:03am on Wednesday September 15th 2010.
The NICU attendant quickly obtained custody of our tiny, quiet boy and held him up in front of her, letting us look, as she backed into the heated room, assuring us that “It’s a boy!” Just that fast, we were alone again, getting everything tidied up with me. The NICU staff came in to get Andrew, who diligently took my camera in with him to visit our new son. As the door closed behind him, we heard the most precious sound a new parent can hear…a tiny, quiet, kitten-like crying coming from the angry baby boy in the other room.
Andrew was gone for a few minutes, but it seemed like hours to me. Finally the team kicked him out, back into the delivery room, so they could do all of the testing necessary on a pre-term infant. Andrew then showed me the first pictures of my adorable, precious baby boy. He also assured me that the resident was happy with his APGAR scores (a 9 for a preemie is amazing…it’s normal for a full term infant!) and didn’t see any reason we should be worried about survival. He was a little concerned that Vaughan only weighed 2 lbs 15 oz…an average weight for a 28 week baby not 32, but didn’t see that having any serious effects. Andrew and I started to smile, laugh and relax…after 7 months of waiting and worrying each day, unsure of the ending, knowing our baby boy was here, safe and a fighter was almost more than we could handle! Riding our cloud of euphoria the delivery team wheeled us to the recovery area….
** To give size perspective here, the hand in the top middle of the photograph belonged to the resident…his hand is bigger than Vaughan’s whole head… **
I feel like I should mention, for those of you who have no idea what a contraction feels like…my best description is either the most severe menstrual cramps you’ve had in your life (for women) or a Charlie Horse muscle spasm all across your abdomen (for men). They are painful and kind of like a bad ninja…you can see them coming but there isn’t anything you can do about it! It builds like a wave and then slowly goes away. While you’re in the midst of one of these painful spasms you can’t talk and breathing becomes an issue, especially if like me, you hold your breath when in lots of pain. I swear if I’d heard the nurse…or Andrew…tell me to breathe one more time, bad things were going to go down in that Triage room. The Demerol didn’t work and after an hour of Nicole telling me to stick it out, they’d ease up, I finally cracked and asked for an Epidural for pain management purposes only…since I was still only at 1cm and baby Richardson had given no additional signs of showing up to join the party. Between contractions I was my usual lovely self, however things were starting to get a little hostile while I was in pain.
At around 1:30 am the anesthesiologist showed up with all of their wonderful pain relieving gadgets and proceeded to get themselves set up. The warnings they are required to read you about the epidural are scary but honestly I would have signed over my left arm for some relief… I remember hearing something about possible paralysis, etc etc and waved them off…mostly concerned about how fast we could get this process moving and how long it would take for the mediation to kick in. Nicole checked to make sure I was still at 1cm then had me dangle my legs over the side of the bed. This wasn’t easy….contractions make you want to curl into a little ball…not sit up straight like you’re in the principal’s office! I buried my face in a pillow and squeezed Nicole’s hands while the doctor inserted a giant needle into my spine. Did I mention that they have to insert it during a contraction? And that you have to remain absolutely still? Good times…
Nicole didn’t make me feel much better by telling me to essentially suck it up, she’d had women at 10cm dilated sit still through contractions to get their epidurals. I was convinced these women must have had super human pain tolerance and had no idea what it was like for us mere mortals.
Finally the needle was out, the epidural drip hooked up and I was allowed to lie back down and wait for blessed relief. The pain started to go very quickly but I still felt very odd. I’d been told by friends that epidurals relieve the pain but not the pressure of childbirth so when I still felt that pressure I thought nothing of it and just mentioned it to Nicole in passing. She got a strange look on her face, checked me out and proceeded with our most shocking announcement in a night that already wasn’t short on excitement. “You’re 10 cm! We’re going to the delivery room” Andrew and I looked at each other, I may have said some unladylike words in my shock, and we were on our way. I didn’t even have time to catch my breath before we were wheeled into a sparklingly clean delivery room and I was being rolled like a whale onto a new table, since the epidural robs you of the use of your legs. A second nurse and a doctor arrived and we were on to the next adventure! It was just after 2am…
** I’d like to blame the unattractiveness of this picture on water retention,bad lighting, or a stressed out, soon-to-be Daddy photographer, any of which I’m sure were likely. However the 60 lbs of baby weight are definitely a more accurate cause. When I said rolled on like a whale I wasn’t joking… **
The three of us packed ourselves and my bag into the car and took off for my 5th visit in 13 weeks to St. Jo’s OB Triage. This time, because my water had broken and infection was now a possibility, I knew regardless of whether baby Richardson made his appearance that night or not, I’d be staying as an ‘in-patient’ until he arrived. This situation would be hard on Andrew and I, but the painful contractions I started having in the car took my mind off that worry for a while! I also feel the need to mention here that summer is ‘construction season’ for Southern Ontario. In the 15 or so blocks from our apartment to the hospital we drove over at least 2 large sections of unpaved road and let me tell you…if I wasn’t in labour before the car ride, the City of London Infrastructure Dept. sure helped me along!
Andrew held my hand the whole car ride to the hospital, manfully putting up with his fingers being smashed in time with my contractions, and carried my bag up to the 3rd floor after my mom dropped us off and took herself home to try and sleep (aka wait for our phone call). The desk at the Triage was unmanned at 10:30pm so I picked up their little phone and spoke with the faceless voice on the other end. As soon as I got the words “32 weeks and my water just broke” out of my mouth, I was told to stay put and someone would come and get us.
Andrew and I, while both secretly hoping that Abbott and Costello had the night off (please see previous posts), were lead to our ‘usual’ room in Triage, and hooked up to the various monitors yet again. We happily discovered that Nicole would be our nurse and knew that whatever happened, we were in good hands. I put on my stylish yet comfortable hospital tent…sorry ‘gown’… and waited for Nicole to confirm that, yes those rhythmic, excruciating tightenings of my abdomen I was having were indeed strong contractions. However they weren’t regular and I was only 1 cm dilated so the general consensus was that baby Richardson wasn’t arriving in the near future. Some IV fluids and rest should stop the contractions, a shot of Demerol for the pain and I’d be checked in to the Antenatal ward again before morning with an induction scheduled for 36 weeks. I immediately began regretting that I’d left for the hospital a second time still not having eaten my dinner, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson the first time…
The doctor came and did a quick check and ultrasound to make sure that baby Richardson was doing well, just in case, and arranged for one of the NICU residents to come and talk with us about the unit and what it would look like should our baby have to spend some time as their guest.
Just as the first doctor left and we began our wait for the NICU resident, a new nurse came in, looked at Andrew and asked if he was Andrew R. Andrew looked confused but replied, at which point he was informed that there were three gentlemen in the hallway looking for him. Andrew and I had made no phone calls to anyone about our trip to the hospital, so we had no idea who could be out there. Andrew left the room and discovered that 3 of his fellow cast members from Three Musketeers had been released from rehearsal early and had come to wish us luck! In all that chaos it definitely reminded us of what great friends and colleagues we have. Baby Richardson sure was lucky to have all of those cheerleaders!
While Andrew was out of the room the NICU resident arrived and proceeded to try and explain the unit to me while I was in the midst of several long and painful contractions. Let me tell you, my concentration was not what it should have been and luckily Andrew arrived to listen and ask the appropriate questions. We were told that, should he arrive at 32 weeks and after the two steroid shots I’d received during my earlier admission, our son should be in good shape developmentally and approximately 4-5 pounds. We also needed to know that he might require a little help breathing at first, at which point he’d be intubated and on a ventialtor. They would also be giving him a medication called ‘Surfactant’ after his birth to help coat his lungs and make it easier to draw breaths. Right after delivery he would be taken to a heated room beside the delivery room where the NICU team would be waiting and Andrew would have the opportunity to go with him and take pictures for me. We’d be able to go and see him in the NICU right after I was released from the Recovery area. This all sounded very simple and logical so Andrew and I relaxed and decided to take things as they came. The nurse gave me the Demerol shot, checked to see that after 3 hrs I was still at 1 cm and turned off the lights. I rode the roller-coaster of contractions while waiting for them to ease, both Andrew and I trying to get some sleep.
Now this part of the story somewhat resembles a farce…or a TV sitcom, and was told to me by both Andrew, the director of Three Musketeers and Shawn. Since I wasn’t actually around for this part I’m assuming these stories are fairly factual, and since all three of these people have access to this blog, any corrections are appreciated!
As previously mentioned Andrew was in the middle of rehearsal for a production of Three Musketeers as my water broke and since his phone had become extremely temperamental I wasn’t able to get a hold of him!
After calling Kerry, she hurried Shawn out of the door with directions to the rehearsal space. Shawn arrived at The Palace and ran into the building asking anyone he saw for ‘Andrew’. Now keep in mind the cast and crew for this production were quite large and there were no fewer than 3 ‘Andrew’s’ on set that day! Once the fact that Andrew R was the required party was understood, someone quickly grabbed him and Shawn informed him that my water had broken and he needed to get home ASAP. Andrew ran back onto the stage, interrupted the director, telling her he needed to be leaving….with no explanation. Seeing that it was less than 2 weeks to opening night the director was less than impressed! Andrew informed her that it was somewhat of an emergency and our baby was probably on it’s way! The director told him to hurry home and Andrew ran off the stage to an announcement that a ‘Baby Musketeer’ was on it’s way! Applause and good wishes followed him to the stage door. At which point he turned around and had to run back…he’d been so flustered he’d forgotten his murse.
Shawn and Andrew reached Shawn’s car and began the quick journey back to our house. Shawn, being the considerate friend he is, generously offered to let Andrew pick the CD for the ride…Andrew just looked at him in disbelief and ran out of the car and into our apartment building as soon as the car rolled to a stop.
He crashed in, wildly looking to see if I’d left yet, just as my mother and I were wondering where he’d gotten to. Please refer to conversation in my previous post…
Upon his arrival my mom and Andrew proceeded to frantically grab my bag and question me to see if I had everything I needed, all while rushing me and my giant belly out the door and into the car. I wasn’t even having contractions at this point but looking at the two of them you’d think I’d been about to give birth sitting on my bedroom floor….
**This is an addition as posted to the link on my Facebook by the director of the show. Thanks Ceris!!**
This is pretty accurate from our end Kendryth. He was very, shall we say, stunned. And was finding it difficult to communicate in complex sentences. The cast and crew were also suggesting baby names at him on his way out the door. Most popular were: D’Arty, Aramis and Henri de Beaumancher. We all liked the name you picked.
The next funniest part was when, about 45 minutes later, Porthos, Athos and their Captain – Mssr. Treville came to ask if they were finished rehearsal and could be released early. They all looked like they were about 3 and were asking to play hookey. Then they explained that it was due to their desire to go to the hospital to be there for their Musketeer brother and to welcome the new musketeer into the world. Of course, they were released immediately and with good wishes as well.
All in all, it was a very fun evening for us. Thanks for that wonderful contribution to an already special show. But you took it over the top
After finally returning home that Thursday night I parked myself on my bed and didn’t get up unless it was absolutely necessary. I noticed that whenever I took on any physical activity I’d get some contractions so I figured resting my considerable behind was the best course of action. I had an appointment on the following Thursday and was hooked up to the monitors in Triage for a few hours, just to make sure all was going well. This time I got my head and belly pat before they sent me on my way! I had a couple huge sighs of relief and convinced myself that all was about as normal as it was going to get.
Andrew and I hosted our baby shower the next Sunday at Eastpark and enjoyed getting together with our large family to celebrate baby Richardson’s upcoming arrival! That baby was spoiled rotten and he wasn’t even there yet! We felt so blessed as we literally took home a carload of baby stuff. Sorting and examining all of these strange and wonderful new baby things occupied my time for the next day or so and I finally allowed myself a little hope that things would be just fine and in a few weeks we’d be bringing home our son in one of those beautiful outfits!
That Tuesday I was in a terrible mood and it was one of those days things just weren’t going my way. Our second attempt at a new couch was delivered and again it wouldn’t fit through our front hall, the delivery men were unhelpful and I was on my feet way too much. Our kitten peed all along our hallway and then proceeded to hack up a hairball in my room, resulting in me having to get down on my hands and knees to clean it all up. I had phone calls from our rental agency regarding an ongoing issue with our utilities and to top it all of it all off Andrew was going to be gone all evening so I didn’t even have anyone to vent to!
Now, as a sidenote, I should probably mention that earlier in the summer Andrew had asked me if I minded if he did another play. The producer and director for Three Musketeers had called and offered him the role of Aramis and he was excited by the opportunity to take on a large role. After discussing the show dates (late Sept) we figured it would be perfect timing…one last show before baby! Hence during all of this hospital drama he was attending long rehearsals to learn choreography, fighting and blocking. Busy man!
Anyway, back to that Tuesday; Andrew stopped in at home to see how I was doing before heading off for rehearsal and I settled myself back in on my bed to watch some TV. While watching a repeat for the season finale for Glee I suddenly became very alarmed. Now as most pregnant women can attest, bladder control during pregnancy can get somewhat….adventurous… I was used to having to use the facilities with overwhelming frequency however as I sat up I came to the alarming conclusion that I had just wet myself…like a 2 year old! Looking down in disbelief I hauled butt (slowly) to the washroom and looked down…to find that I hadn’t wet myself as I had feared…but my water had broken! Strange fact: just as the character ‘Quinn’s, on the episode of Glee I’d been watching, had broken…talk about coincidence!
At this point you’d think I’d have had a meltdown, alone and standing in a puddle of water in our washroom, however I suddenly became calm, cool and collected. First order of business was to call Andrew: and in the pattern of that day, his phone had decided that receiving calls was no longer a feature of his plan (needless to say we got new phones the following weekend). Okay, now what? I called my mother to let her know I needed to head to the hospital and she nearly hung up on me in her haste to get into the car and pick me up. Next, I called my friend Kerry (who’d been under general anesthetic that day) to send her boyfriend Shawn to the rehearsal to pick up Andrew. After this I had myself a quick shower, figuring it might be a while before I had that opportunity again, packed a bag and sat on the bed to wait for everyone to arrive!
My mother arrived, practically tripping over herself while swearing about some train that had held her up and asking frantically where Andrew was….excellent question…let’s examine that shall we?
When Andrew and I arrived at Triage that Saturday night we were remarkably unprepared. I had assumed, based on my previous visits, that they’d hook me up to the monitor for an hr or so, pat me on the head and belly and send me on my way. Wrong! We packed no bag and ate no dinner, leaving freshly made date squares on the counter and were promptly hooked up to the monitor and left to our own devises.I was having sporadic contractions and no one was happy about bleeding so late in the pregnancy, so I was going to have to wait to see the doctor. I sent Andrew out for a packed bag and sneaky McDonald’s (have I mentioned I gained 60 lbs??) since I wasn’t technically allowed to eat…
Andrew still describes our pair of nurses at the beginning of that night as Abbott and Costello. They kept losing my records, monitor printout and couldn’t get my IV inserted! This did not help the stress of the evening, even more so when one of the nurses casually looked at the printout of my contractions and mentioned ‘Well you might be having a baby tonight!” with no additional details, on her way out of the room! Andrew and I just looked at each other in total shock…
After talking to the doctor, they told us that they wanted me to stay overnight for observation so I was moved into a more comfortable Labour and Delivery room with a reclining chair for Andrew to ‘relax’ in. I was given some Gravol, IV fluids and told to sleep, as best I could, on my side while attached to the monitor. Thankfully, we had a new nurse, Nicole, who was amazing, helpful and kind…what a blessing!
The contractions eased but the next morning the doctor told us she would be happier if I was admitted to the Antenatal ward for observation. I needed some shots of steroids to help speed up baby Richardson’s development since all signs pointed to an early arrival. My blood work showed that I would likely give birth in the next two weeks, which would make him, at most, a 32 week preemie! We were so not prepared for this but we decided we’d do what we needed to do to make sure our baby had the best chance possible.
Andrew went home to shower and feed our cat while I was wheeled down the hall to my new ‘home’, a window bed in a 4 bed ward room filled with other high risk mommies. When I got to the bed I just burst into tears, this isn’t how I pictured pregnancy or birth at all! One of those ‘Life Isn’t Fair’ moments I guess. My day nurse came in, passed me a towel and toiletries and told me to go freshen up, I’d feel better. Apparently total emotional meltdowns are common on that floor!
And so began my new routine: days filled with tests, tests, and more tests followed by a brief consult with either a doctor or resident. The food was disgusting, sleep almost non-existent and all of the constant worry and wonder didn’t make for an easy week! Also since I was in a ward, Andrew was kicked out at 10pm each night, leaving each of us to deal with our stress and worry alone, not an easy task! Finally on Thursday, since I’d had no further trouble, the doctors let me loose! I was allowed to go home on strict bedrest and was told to come back the second something didn’t feel right.
Let me tell you, sleeping in my own bed and getting back to my routine of TV and munchies felt like heaven!! Little did I know this ‘honeymoon’ period wouldn’t last long…
MaternalMusing 