An arranged marriage in the making

Mariah awoke with an extra twinkle in her eye today, and now I know why.  Our best buds, Dave & Liza, have been anxiously awaiting the arrival of their little bundle of joy…and Cameron made his fashionably late entrance into the world early this morning!  He was due on the 23^rd so they’ve been busy trying to encourage the little fellow to make his way out.  Ivan taught Dave some acupressure points we had learned, and just two nights ago Mariah had her usual cuddle with Liza’s tummy, only this time I think she had a serious chat with her pal.  She must’ve assured him that it’s not so bad out here - either that or “it’s terrible out here, you gotta come save me!” (somehow the bossier, latter tone sounds a bit more like Mariah, to me).  Or maybe she gave him directions, since she knows how hard it is for boys to ask for those.  Whatever her method, she must’ve been convincing because Liza’s water broke a couple hours later!

Now for a bit of background: Dave and Ivan have been close friends since elementary school.  Dave’s family had moved from the East Coast to Ontario, where Dave met Ivan.  Apparently they took turns watching each other’s back on the playground to avoid getting beat up – or so the story goes.  They grew up together and were probably both a bit heartbroken when Dave’s family decided to move back out East soon after they started high school.  They kept in touch, as much as boys do, over the years – with a phonecall here and a visit there.  But as with any true friendship, no matter how far apart they were, it was like nothing had changed each time they re-connected.  They even tried to introduce their lovely ladies to each other before any of us were even married.  But being the boys they were (and are), their plan was ‘hey man, I’ve got tickets to the Jays game, do you wanna meet at the Skydome?’.  Seriously – no details, no cell phones, no nothing.  So Ivan and I sat patiently on one side of the Skydome thinking we had been stood up for our double date, while Dave & Liza did the same on the other side : )  Needless to say, Liza and I now make the plans with each other and then just tell our hubbies what time to be ready. 

Somehow, fate brought the four of us to Calgary…and we ended up buying homes just ‘around the corner’ from each other.  Us wives were both happy that our hubbies had each other to hang out with.  But I don’t think any of us could have predicted becoming as close as we have, as wives, as hubbies, as couples, and now as families!  Ivan and I were beyond ecstatic when we learned Dave and Liza were pregnant just one trimester behind us.  It even gave Liza and I the excuse to build our own friendship, one aquafit class at a time : )   When our little Mariah arrived, Liza's natural maternal instincts poured out instantly, and Dave's very normal new daddy fears did the same.  I'll never forget how tense and terrified he looked the first time he carried her, since she was the first baby he had ever held!  The next couple of visits we had to force him to hold her, to help ease his concern that he might break her.  But eventually his daddy confidence kicked right in and he started picking her up for a cuddle on his own.  Sure enough, on our first visit with Cameron, I watched Dave hold his baby boy with all the comfort and love that a natural dad would.  I even got a bit teary when he said that Mariah was the best thing that could have happened to him, since she gave him the chance to prepare for his own 'bubba' to arrive.  The four of us have been lucky to move through stages of life together: progressing from double dates at the Bar to watch UFC fights, to hanging out at home together for movie marathons, and now into a future hopefully filled with family roadtrips and new adventures.

We’ve been half-jokingly daydreaming about Cameron and Mariah falling in love one day.  By half-jokingly I mean if they don’t, then it was a joke, but if they do, then ‘see kids, we told ya so’.  In fact, I would prefer if it happened like in the movie “Riding in Cars with Boys” where Drew Barrymore’s son secretly falls in love with her best-friend’s daughter and they announce it to their parents when they’re all grown up.  I've even gone to the liberty of drafting some of Mariah's wedding vows about how she was born during a lunar eclipse and he was born on Earth Day: "Cam, I'll be your sky to help you know no limits, if you be my Earth to keep me grounded and safe".  Okay, so since that all might be a lot of pressure for these itty bitty kiddies (and since Ivan & I plan to try being as gender neutral as possible when we talk with Mariah about relationships), let’s just say that I would love for the two of them to grow up as close as peas and carrots. 

Since the four of us ventured across the country, away from our own families, it’s been beyond special to become like family to each other.  We love our buds so very much that we would do just about anything for them, and they’ve been so good to us, that we’re comforted in knowing the feeling is mutual.  And now that Cameron is finally here, it’s like he’s the missing piece to the puzzle.  Congratulations Dave & Liza!!!  

Mariah's Namesake

Today is the 10-year death anniversary for Ivan’s mom, Maria, who passed away in a car accident a couple of years before I met him.  Apparently, she used to joke that she wanted to change her name to Mariah since it was prettier, so that’s how our Mariah got her name.

From the many stories I’ve heard about Maria, she was described as a warm, funny, and down to earth person who had a unique passion for life.  She enjoyed bringing family and friends together for camping trips, finding fun things to do with her kids on a small budget, and even making the time to do kind things for others.  In fact, before she died, she was enrolled in a college program for volunteer coordination.  Maria was the proud mother of three boys who have all grown into sweet and sensitive men.  The fact that Ivan is taking sewing lessons to make baby blankets today is just a small testament to the rare and carefully skilled way she raised her sons.  When I’ve seen Maria in old family videotapes, her smile and laughter struck me as genuinely contagious.  She truly seemed like a positive human being who made the most of her time on earth by spreading this happiness with each person she crossed paths with. 

When I think about her now, I’m overcome with sadness for Ivan, his dad, and his brothers who lost part of themselves when she died.  Ivan will proudly admit to being a mama’s boy who enjoyed ‘hanging out’ with his mom even during his teenage years, when most kids would rather be out with friends.  He loved and respected his mom so very much, that I can feel it in the way he loves me – it’s not just a cliché that you can tell a lot about a man by the relationship he had with his mother. 

With each milestone in life, Ivan has grieved over not having his mom by his side with him – his graduation, his wedding day, and now his entry into fatherhood.  Although Ivan doesn’t talk much about emotional things (he may sew, but he’s still a male)…I know that he wishes, more than anything, that his mom could be here today – so that she could watch his amazing chrysalis into parenthood, and so that he could watch her equally amazing chrysalis into 'grandma-hood' that she would have loved, without a doubt. 

I’m sad for Mariah and her cousins who lost the opportunity to have someone like Maria in their lives.  And selfishly, despite having never met her, I’m sad for myself since I have a feeling we would have gotten along pretty well.  She doesn’t sound like the type of overbearing mother-in-law that some women dread.  Rather, she sounds like someone I would have enjoyed walking and talking with, someone I would have learned a lot from…and probably someone I would have had deal-finding competitions with!  To me, she sounds like the glue that held her family together…the type of mom I can only aspire to be.

In fitting with Maria’s positive outlook on life, I’ll end by reflecting on how she’s here today.  Ivan is a believer in the concept of ‘spiritual genetics’ – that the spirit, or core essence of a person, can travel through time into generations to follow.  Now that Mariah is here, this theory makes a lot more sense to me.  Not only does our daughter have a strong resemblance to her namesake, but I would like to think she has some of her spiritual energy too.  We’ve started to daydream about how we might see more similarities as the years spiral forward.  Only time will tell.  But that element of mystery, that we will catch glimpses of Maria in our daughter at moments we didn’t expect, is part of the beauty of it all.  And whereas Ivan used to feel close to his mom again when he visited her grave, he now feels her presence in a far more powerful way.  Each time he gazes into his daughter’s eyes, they reunite.

Mariah's Birth Story

Disclaimer:  What you are about to read is a very real and very beautiful depiction of childbirth.  Since you may be used to over-dramatized media portrayals, please be warned that this birth story does not involve trauma or horror.

Early Labour (about 14.5 very manageable hours: 9:30am - midnight)

I woke up to mild contractions, which had likely started while I slept.  Throughout the morning, these contractions remained irregular so we assumed it was ‘pre-labour’ (sporadic contractions that can happen even a few days before delivery) and went about our day.   But, just incase, we also applied all of the early labour techniques we had learned (prepared my body by eating and drinking well and by taking an afternoon nap; kept distracted by going for Ivan’s haircut and trying to finish reading my birthing book; kept active by going for a short walk and squatting on my exercise ball; relaxed by having a bath and deep breathing; and tried to kick-start the process by practicing acupressure points…the works!). 

Contractions continued to get more intense & closer together throughout the evening but we waited until our midwives’ “3-1-1” guideline (contractions are 3 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute each, and for 1 hour) and paged them at 11pm.  I guess I sounded like I was coping a little too well over the phone since our midwife on-call, Christy, suggested I take another bath and try another nap to see whether that intensified or slowed the contractions.  Ivan was doing a great job of ‘counterpressure’ on my back and hips, except that he kept offering options – like whether I wanted him to press harder, use a tennis ball, etc.  The first time I told him politely that I needed to breathe through my contractions and couldn’t talk.  The second time, I repeated that verbatim in a harsher tone.  And the third time I threatened to punch him if he talked to me again during a contraction!

Transition –  about midnight

So I tried another bath followed by a short nap attempt (for which I took a Tylenol – the only medication during labour) but suddenly got up and vomited.  Luckily, I just missed the bassinet!  We had learned from our prenatal class that vomiting is a common sign of the ‘transition’ from early into active labour – and it turned out to be just that.  From then on, contractions suddenly became much stronger and much closer together, to the point that we stopped tracking them but knew that they were about 2 minutes apart and getting shorter.  I quickly started overheating, and followed my instinct to strip off all my clothes (another common sign of transition).

Active Labour  (about 2.5 hours: 12am – 2:30am)

I paged Christy again and she could tell by the moaning during my next contraction that I was definitely further along than our first conversation.  She let me know that she and our student midwife, Mimi, were on their way.  In the meantime, I spent my next several contractions leaning over my exercise ball, squatting under my ‘rain’ shower (which took me a year of whining at Home Depot to convince Ivan to buy…well worth it in the end), and eventually lying in my bathtub.  Ivan was with me for almost every contraction but when he occasionally needed to leave for a moment, I only had enough focus to grunt ‘need you’ before he was back applying counterpressure.  The lights were dim and my thoughts were starting to become blurry because of the intense pain.  To be honest, the contractions had evolved into such strong pressure that I started thinking I would never attempt natural childbirth again and wondered if I would be able to ‘make it’ this time.  I kept hoping the midwives would arrive any moment, but since we live in a new area that GPS’s don’t like, they got a bit lost!  So Ivan was in & out of the room trying to discretely give directions over the phone without panicking me.  They arrived around 1am while I was still in the bathtub.  Mimi magically appeared at my side to comfort me while Christy checked me (my first and ONLY internal exam of pregnancy/delivery).  Ivan & I saw a surprised look on Christy’s face and I was terrified that she would tell me I was only a few centimeters dilated, but apparently it was a pleasant surprise - I was fully dilated!  By then I started getting louder during contractions – moaning in a low pitch and making some scared whimpering noises.  The midwives were telling me I was doing a great job but Ivan was still silent (probably due to my earlier threat of violence!).  I started to push a bit without realizing and then I felt a ‘pop’ which turned out to be my ‘membranes rupturing’/water breaking. 

Pushing (about 2:30am-2:55am: 25 minutes)

I felt a strong urge to push and told the midwives so.  Christy encouraged me to do whatever my body told me to (which is far more helpful than having a doctor command you to push when your body is not yet ready.  Midwives follow the philosophy that a woman’s body knows exactly what to do during labour and that it’s important to encourage a woman to try and trust these instincts).  On the next contraction I told them I felt burning on my cervix, which I realized afterward was the ‘ring of fire’/head crowning, but it felt mild probably because the water was doing an amazing job of pain management.  Christy reminded me that instead of using my air on noises, I needed to hold my breath, bring my body in and push on the next contraction.  Although I had always envisioned a waterbirth, I wasn’t able find a comfortable pushing position so Christy suggested I squat on the toilet for the next contraction to see if that would help baby descend further.  Sure enough, as soon as I did, I felt the head (although I had no idea how I knew that).  I started moving back toward the tub but they said there was no time to re-fill the water so they asked me to get onto my bed.  I instinctively climbed on my hands & knees.  They asked if I wanted to lie on my side and I firmly said ‘no’ – I was now certain of what my body was telling me to do, and was finally trusting it.  Again I started with loud moans and inefficient pushes until Christy teased that I would just lose my voice : )  I think up until then, I was just scared to push.  But on the next contraction, I shut-up, held my breath and gave about 3 good pushes and continued to try & do the same on the next few contractions.  Ivan was beside me on the bed supporting me and now finally ignoring my earlier threats by giving me wonderful positive feedback, which I was grateful for.  I couldn’t feel any progress, but was relieved to be pushing since it made the contractions feel productive l and since the pressure of pushing was not as scary as I had imagined.  Christy asked me to reach down & feel the head, which I hesitantly did (I almost felt like I didn’t want to, since I wasn’t interested in the process at that point, I just wanted to be finished).  But I continued pushing as a team with my midwives (whereas they did not tell me when to start pushing, they did help me to prevent/minimize tearing by letting me when to slow down, since I couldn’t see how fast baby was coming out.)

Birth (2:55 a.m.)

I actually don’t remember the rest in terms of when the head vs. body started moving out…but just remember finally being done, lying down and having my baby placed on my tummy.  Ivan was crying and I wished I could too but was too exhausted and in shock.  I said to Ivan – ‘I did it?!?’  And he & the midwives assured me I had done a great job.  Ivan and I stared at Mariah in awe and I asked if I could pull her up & even tried a bit before remembering that she was still connected to the placenta inside me.  Ivan and I both wanted to delay the cord-cutting for several minutes to allow it to finish giving baby her last few drops of precious nutrients - the midwives encouraged this too and even had us feel it pulsing.  Then Ivan got to cut it & I finally got to hold baby up on my chest to get a better look.  I asked if I needed to push the placenta out & Christy joked that since it doesn’t have bones it would slip out easier than the baby & sure enough it did.

Post-Partum

I had a small 1^st degree tear since baby had her hand on her head as she emerged.  Christy told me that she could either put in a couple of stitches or let it heal on its own since it was small, only if I promised not to do stairs or cross my legs for a few days.  I quickly begged for the latter, since I was more afraid of the pain of stitches than the natural childbirth I had just been through. 

Although the labour was officially 18 hours from start to finish, the 2.5 hours of active labour and 25 minutes of pushing are apparently pretty fast for a first baby.  The homebirth was even more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.  I truly believe that all of the natural remedies the midwives suggested during pregnancy, in combination with the labour techniques Ivan & I learned along the way, helped me to experience the amazing natural homebirth I have always hoped and dreamed for.

To add to the beauty of it all, we realized afterward that Mariah’s arrival into the world was happening during a rare lunar eclipse.  And as if that wasn’t enough, she arrived exactly one day before my own birthday and 2 days before Ivan’s mom’s (her namesake’s) birthday.  During my pregnancy I had kept hoping that she would arrive on one of our birthdays, but I suppose she wanted to be close to us, but still wanted her independence!

My Pregnancy: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Just two cycles after our miscarriage, I had another positive test.  As usual, I tested very early (about 6 days prior to my expected period).  Ivan was out at a soccer game while I was home staring hard at a second pink line that was so faint I wondered if I was imagining it.  But after about half an hour of staring, I was pretty sure that it was real.  I bounced around with adrenalin for a while, and then decided to keep myself distracted until Ivan returned by applying for every midwifery waitlist in the city (since midwife care only recently became covered in Alberta and the demand far exceeds the availability).  I finally had my opportunity to share the news with Ivan in an exciting way so I filled our room with whatever baby items we had collected over the years (yup, we’ve been buying baby books and clothes since before we got married, in eager anticipation) and put some signs through the house congratulating him on finally becoming a dad.

The emotional high of being pregnant again was countered by the fear of a repeat miscarriage, and by the physical discomforts that are common in the first trimester.  I felt like I was immersed in a haze of low grade nausea and sleepiness for those three months.  I learned that ‘morning sickness’ is a mythical term invented by a man who didn’t realize that pregnant women frequently have nausea and/or vomiting at any time of the day.  For me, it was mild enough that I managed not to throw up at work but was not so lucky at home.  I tried to remind myself about how I used to long for nausea just to have a sign of pregnancy…but it didn’t stop me from complaining!

Second trimester was far better.  Many say that this is the best part of pregnancy since you’re usually past the nauseous stage and since your baby bump is big enough to ‘show’ but not so big that it interferes with daily life.  I felt so much better that I re-arranged our summer roadtrip at the last minute to turn it into a camping trip, since I suddenly realized that it would be my last chance to have an outdoor adventure alone with Ivan (mind you, we fully plan on taking our kiddies on roadtrips too…but I imagine camping will feel a bit different when it involves a diaper bag).  Aside from having a sore back from tent sleeping and ‘needing’ a daily dose of ice cream, my pregnancy didn’t seem to affect our trip much.  So after an amazing week on the East Coast, we headed to Ontario to finish our vacation with a bang by announcing our news in person to our extended family and friends.  I tried to make it clever by telling them: ‘we need to change our reservations to 3, please!’  They were over the moon with joy for us, and we were happy to take them there.  My only difficulty with pregnancy during that time was the judgmental looks and/or words I got whenever I wanted to do something that society has brainwashed us to think pregnant women are incapable of.  For example: eating spicy food (really? – do we think women in India stop eating spicy food for 9 months?), carrying my nephew (isn’t that what pregnant moms with toddlers do everyday?), or enjoying a waterpark (okay – I realize this one is a bit harder to argue.  But I was only 14 weeks, barely showing, and although the waterslide signs warned that they weren’t meant for pregnant women, my interpretation is that they meant ‘very pregnant’ women).

If second trimester is the peak, then third trimester is certainly the fall from grace, so to speak.  I didn’t really struggle with body image issues during pregnancy since a) I’ve been there and done that, b) I’ve always looked forward to pregnancy as being a guilt-free opportunity to indulge in more junk food than usual, and c) I’d like to think that, for the most part, I just gained a healthy amount of weight in my belly and not too much anywhere else (except for the multiple chins that arrived in the last few weeks).  I was lucky to have a close friend, Liza, just one trimester behind me (who is about to pop any day now – yay!), so we each had a buddy to try and keep each other somewhat active.  We did pre-natal yoga together each week and alternated aquafit classes with ‘swimming’ double dates (by swimming, I mean Liza and I did laps while Dave and Ivan took turns cannon balling from a swinging rope).  I’d like to think that all of this activity helped prevent any edema/swelling.  However, I learned that no matter how hard you try, you still will very likely reach a ‘breaking point’ when you just feel done with being pregnant - mine was somewhere around 38 weeks.  By this point, I was tired, achy, cranky, and even hot, despite it being -30 outside (as my co-worker will attest to, since I threatened to kill him when he turned the heater on in our office).  I even had a night leg cramp that was so intense it caused tendinitis in my ankle that left me limping and in need of physiotherapy!  That’s when I finally stopped working, which was shocking to my younger male cousins who thought that maternity leave started as soon as you became pregnant (probably because if men had babies that’s when they would give up).  Since baby ended up arriving right on time, that gave me 2 weeks off to kick back, read Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, cook and freeze some meals, and reflect on how my life was about to change forever.