Your birth story (happy birthday little man)




We had been at the hospital already like a kajillion times, over the course of about 8 weeks. Contractions started for me at 32 weeks pregnant (no, not BH, legit contractions however mild/strong they were) and my OB just kept saying “just make it to 36 weeks Sara and we are good. Make it to 36 weeks and you can have this baby.” My first son was born at 37 weeks, and I was going to make it.


William was a big baby, for a while the docs thoughts I had a condition where there was too much fluid in my uterus. He was measuring huge starting second trimester. The pregnancy wasn’t easy, yet, in my mind I remember feeling SO bonded to that little human growing inside me. Because I’d already had a kid (omg my beautiful first baby boy), I knew what to expect, sort of, about pregnancy, and I enjoyed William’s presence as he flopped around in my belly.


But on that particular night, January 17th2016, I was SUPER PISSED. As I said, I’d been in and out of the hospital a million times because I was in early labour for the better part of like, two months. I was dilated, and had contractions sometimes for 4 hours, sometimes 12. I would wake up and be going about my day and they would start, but my baby boy never came.


I was supposed to MC two of my dearest friends’ wedding on December 31st, and was given the “stay close to home order” the day before (sob) by my doc because of how big my baby already was and the likelihood that he would come fast—and potentially need to be delivered by C-section at the last minute. So hubby and I missed the evening of the century thinking our baby boy was on his way! No such luck (ha ha).


So there I was on the 17th! The on-call OB when I went in, someone I’d never met, was delivering another baby in our Northern Ontario hospital and couldn’t check me herself. In her absence, a wonderful nurse checked me, told me I was still 3 cm dilated, and even though she trusted my feelings this baby was coming soon, the OB had told her to tell me to go home and wait. So I did. We had gotten to the hospital at around 8 and at 11, called it. I cried to my husband because I just wanted to have this baby already, and told him I needed a big Mac STAT, he obliged, and then we drove the 20 minutes to our rural little place on the lake. My other son and my dog were at the grandparents because I was SURE baby boy was coming. But alas, by midnight I was back home, tail between my legs. Hubby told me to get some sleep and he was going to the spare room, so I did just that.


I woke up at exactly 4am to a very intense contraction, and thought “hmm. I won’t wake the hubby but I definitely will have a quick shower, just in case.” So I did that. Another contraction 3 minutes later, and then another, when I desperately tried to dry my hair and have a pee. Within about 10 minutes, they were coming on fast and strong and I found myself in the kitchen, on all fours. “Ummm… hey???” I called to the hubs. “Time to go?” He responded. It was indeed. At this point, not only was it go time, I had already realized we could very well be having an unexpected home birth.


At 4:15am in -30 degree weather (without the windchill) we got in our car that often hated to start in the cold. Our little place on the lake was 40 steps down from the road—that walk up the stairs did not go well (I was trying to hold a baby in my body, may have mentioned that). As we raced to the hospital, my water burst, and I freaked out. I knew we had zero time to get somewhere safe.


We got to the parking lot and while I did manage to exit the car, I immediately went to the ground on all fours, ready to push the baby out. My husband, god bless him looked me right in the face and said “it’s too cold to have a baby out here, we need to get inside.” I bawled, because I felt like I was going to explode. I needed to have that baby. He dragged my sorry ass into the hospital, tried to fit me into a nearby wheelchair, and wheeled me (screaming, embarrassingly) up the elevator and into the delivery ward.


The poor nurse who had helped me and comforted me just 5 hours earlier before sending me home met my husband who was holding me up by my arms, I was soaking wet with amniotic fluid and could not communicate.


I didn’t even get a chance to fill out my paper work. They threw me somehow onto a stretcher, pulled my tights off, told me to push, and out my baby boy flew. Phew. In all the insanity, I had managed to keep my almost 9lb baby in my body long enough to get somewhere warm.


I was in shock (shook for hours!), but absolutely thrilled that he was with us finally. He was beautiful, and perfect, and everything I thought he would be. I had my second precipitous birth, and I was bleeding a lot so I was given the option of spending the following night at the hospital with my baby boy. I elected to take the night at the hospital. William and I relaxed at the hospital and let the nurses take care of us until January 19th.


What a birthday for my little guy. January 18th, 2016. He was born in a flurry, and I will never forget anything about that experience.


Thank you for coming into the world my little W, mama loves you.




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