It’s hard to believe it’s almost the end of July already.  Mike is now on his 10 weeks parental leave and we are enjoying it immensely!  Last weekend we traveled down the province to Truro so we could attend a CPO Picnic.  All together there were about 30 people there and we had a great time.  Kelly posted pictures, so I won’t bother..lol.  We have a couple of other trips planned before the end of August :)!!!  The 1st of August we are heading to The Highlands of Cape Breton to take up residence in a cabin for 3 days.  Matthew really wanted to go camping this year, but Mama’s not that brave!!  So we all agreed that a cabin in “camping territory” is better than nothing! (Gotta love compromise!)

Then 6 days after we get home from there we are heading to New Brunswick for a while.  Mike has a lot of family in Oromocto and it’ll be their first time seeing Marcus.  Matthew absolutely LOVES the time we spend there.  There are huge big yards and lots of woods for him to roam.  So for four days we are all together in Oromocto and then……are you ready for this?? ……….. Tracey’s going on a road trip - SOLO!!!!!  I’m going to Ontario for a few days!!!  Other than visiting Ottawa with the school when I was in grade 12, I have never been to Ontario.  I am SO excited!!  I can’t even believe this is going to happen!  It’s going to work out perfectly.  Mike and the boys will still be in NB (with more helping hands around than Mike will know what to do with) and I’ll get a chance for a little “me” time.

This is the first summer we have had any time off together EVER and I dare say it’ll be close to another 17 years before we see it again, so we are all taking advantage of it.

I dare say I’l have some stories by the time the end of August rolls around, so stay tuned - oh and in between all that there may be a couple of more “Tracey and Mike” episodes too…lol

Until next time…

Please enjoy Emily’s Story and think of her today with a smile on your face (no tears), as her Dad, brother and I will.

************************************************************************************************************************

The summer of 2002 started out like any other. Everyone was excited for a couple of reasons. #1 Matthew would be starting school in September, and #2 we were expecting our second child. We were in the process of selling our home and trying to find something bigger as the home we lived in only had 2 bedrooms and with a new baby on the way, we definitely needed something a bit bigger.

Our excitement would be short-lived. On July 12 I was scheduled for a routine 20 weeks ultrasound. My sister had missed so much of my first pregnancy as she was attending university away, I wanted her to come to the ultrasound with me. My pregnancy had been great, no morning sickness, no spotting, no need for concern. Of course, I went in myself initially and she could join us after the technician did all the measurements. Things seemed to be going well and then the technician became very quiet. She was focusing on a certain area and took many more pictures and measurements than I could remember having with Matthew. She told me she wanted to go get the radiologist to come and have a look at something and I asked her if everything was ok. She said she thought so and as she left to get the Doctor, I asked if my sister could please come in. I was getting a little nervous.

My sister came in and the radiologist entered and introduced herself to me. She was a younger woman and immediately I liked her. She was very up-front with me. She said, “Tracey, there is something here. Just give me a couple of minutes to have a look, ok?” Well, a couple of minutes turned into almost 45. My heart was pounding through my chest and I had to pee so bad I thought my bladder would rupture. I could see the screen. I could see my baby moving all over the place, what could possibly be wrong? I was getting a belly and I could feel movement for about 3 weeks now. I wasn’t sick. What could be wrong?

“The problem seems to be with the baby’s bowel.” The Doctor’s voice snapped me back from my thoughts. “It appears as though the bowel is located outside the abdomen.” WHAT??? That’s not right. That can’t be. A million things started going through my mind all at once. First and foremost was that my husband should be here with me for this, however, my sister is a nurse, she’ll know what to ask and she’ll be able to explain all of this to me. The Doctor suggested I get up and go to the washroom and then we could talk.

In the two minutes that I was in that washroom by myself I took a few deep breaths and decided that I was going to listen to what had to be said. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad. Her voice didn’t sound too “end-of-the-worldish”, so let’s just see where this is all going to go.

The condition is known as Gastroschisis, which is basically a hole in the abdominal wall. It is fixable. That’s all I needed to hear. Nothing else mattered - it is fixable. She wants me to go to the children’s hospital in Halifax (4 hours away) for further testing, though. No problem. She explained that the u/s equipment was better and more delicate in Halifax and it would show us exactly what we were dealing with. Again, no problem. She has an appointment for us on Tuesday (…this is Friday). She explained that when it came time for me to deliver, it would be at the Children’s Hospital in Halifax as the baby would require immediate surgery to fix the abdomen wall and reinsert the bowel. I remember her writing down the directions for us to get to the hospital and she told me that she lived close by and gave me her phone number in case we needed a break for a cup of tea or anything. (WOW! How nice was that?)

The one thing she did ask me to do was to please stay away from the internet for the weekend (I think my sister may have asked her to say this as my sister knew I would be researching this all weekend). She made me promise her that I would, and I did. By waiting until I got to Halifax to find out exactly what the issues were I wouldn’t have myself all worked up by reading information that may or may not pertain to my case at all. What I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me. This radiologist was wonderful and I couldn’t thank her enough. Now to go home and tell Mike.

We are not the type of people to sit and feel sorry for ourselves - it’s not going to change anything. We talked a lot on the weekend of possible scenarios that we may be faced with but decided that whatever would be would be and no amount of worrying on our part this weekend was going to change any of that. We enjoyed our weekend with Matthew, informed our families (and our family doctor) of what was happening and headed to Halifax Monday at noon time. We’d leave as soon as our appointment was finished on Tuesday. We’d be home to put Matthew to bed on Tuesday night.

This was the first time we had any dealings with the Children’s Hospital in Halifax (The IWK). I could easily tell why it was so highly recognized. The staff at the Fetal Assessment Unit were amazing. They explained that I would be having an ultrasound and then I would have a consultation with the head of the Unit, who would explain the results and outline the course of action for us. The first thing that amazed me was that I didn’t have to drink any water for this ultrasound. The equipment is so sophisticated that my bladder did not need to be full for them to see the baby. Awesome! The second thing that pleased me was that hubby was permitted to be with me from the get-go.

My enthusiasm was unfortunately, short-lived. The events that transpired over the next half-an-hour would change our lives forever. The ultrasound technician didn’t waste any time doing her thing and after about 10 minutes went to get the Doctor. He came in and looked at things for about the same amount of time and told us very point blank that things were much more serious than first anticipated. Not only was the baby’s bowel exposed, but all lower internal organs were exposed as the abdomen wasn’t closing over at all. There were also issues with the size of the lungs and the heart size. Scoliosis of the spine was also evident as were extra digits on one hand and foot. The baby would stay alive as long as I carried, but there was less than a quarter of a percent change that survival outside the womb would be possible. The extent of the condition was too grave. Simply put, there was nothing that could be done to save our baby.

The baby suffered from ABS (Amniotic Band Syndrome). Basically the amniotic sac developed a tear and the tear caused that part of the sac to almost “shred” and attack the baby. Normally, the shredded sac will attach to the umbilical cord, or digits or limbs. In our case it attached to the umbilical cord at the base of the baby’s abdomen and a hand and foot. There is a greater chance of survival with children born from the condition. Death of a child is uncommon and noted only in the most severe cases.

He explained that even though the baby would continue to grow and move inside me as the pregnancy continued, the added stress on my uterus could possibly be too much for my body to handle. As the baby grew, my life was actually in jeopardy and he strongly advised delivering the baby immediately to avoid and unnecessary trauma to me. When Mike heard that there was even the slightest possibility that carry to term could put me at risk, he made the decision. We had to do this now. We had a 5 year old boy at home who needed his mother. If there was no chance that the baby was going to survive regardless of whether I carried to term or not, he couldn’t take the risk of anything happening to me. It my head, I knew he was right. My heart however, was another story.

We left the ultrasound room and met with a nurse from the Fetal Assessment Unit who sat with us, talked with us, cried with us. She explained how everything was going to work. Because of the size of the baby and the fact that I was over 20 weeks, they had to induce labour. I would have to deliver this baby. This could happen as early as the following day. My head was spinning, I felt like I was going to be sick and I couldn’t remember half of what we talked about. All I could think about was having to call our family, 4 hours away and tell them that the appointment I went to Halifax for has turned into so much more. I came to Halifax pregnant and I would be going home with nothing. During the time we spent with the nurse, there was paperwork we had to take care of. In the event that the baby was born alive, we had to do birth-certificates and death-certificates. She explained that the odds of the baby being born alive were very very slim. The trauma of going through the birth canal would be more than the baby could handle, but these things had to be done - just in case.

We left the hospital feeling numb. We went back to our hotel room and started making phone calls. My parents (with strict instructions to try and keep everything from Matthew until we arrived home), Mike’s Mom, my sister, and our closest cousins and friends. We cried and we cried. But we knew it was for the best. Mom and Mike’s Mom wanted to come to Halifax to be with us. No. This was something we had to do ourselves. Once we finished up with the phone calls, we had to go out. Just go get away from things. We went and got some dinner, and with not being prepared to stay in Halifax, we had to go buy a few things to get us through the next couple of days. We spent the evening talking and we realized this was the first thing that has happened to us since we were married 11 years previously that we handled 100% by ourselves - just the 2 of us. No parents, no outside influences, nothing. I felt at peace with that. Mike and I were able to deal with and try to come to terms with this on our own before we headed back home to face everyone. We were back at the hotel room and in bed early. Tomorrow would be a long day.

We arrived at the hospital for 10:00. Once the paperwork for admittance was done, we were back at the Fetal Assessment Unit and more of the procedure was explained to us. We were taken to our room and introduced to our nurse (she was assigned only to me), and the other nurse who was there for the baby. There was another room right next to my room that was a sitting room, just for us. We were free to come and go as long as I felt comfortable enough to do so. They made us feel so at ease and so at home. The staff were simply wonderful. Soon after we were settled, we were introduced to the Doctor who would induce me. She was a very kind lady who didn’t leave until she was sure all our questions were answered. At 12 noon they began inducing me. The type of induction was quite simple and painless. There were tablets inserted vaginally every 4 hours. I was told the procedure could take between 24-48 hours. That didn’t thrill me a lot. Once the first tablets were inserted we went for a walk outside on the hospital grounds. It was a gorgeous day and it was nice to be out in the sunshine. We were able to talk with our family at home and checked in with them a few times throughout the day. At 4:00 we returned for another dosage of the medication. By 5pm, Mike was getting hungry and they were bringing me my supper, so he decided to walk down and get something at the cafeteria. In the 10-15 minutes that he was gone, I went from walking around the room to being very nauseated, vomiting, and starting to experience severe cramping. He was shocked, to say the least when he returned to fond the nurses hooking me up to an IV.

Over the next couple of hours I was in active labour. I was not dilating, so it was still going to be quite some time. Close to 8pm a new Doctor came in to administer another dosage. I was in a lot of pain and very uncomfortable. As soon as she finished, I felt like I had to go to the washroom. I was in a lot of pain so they brought a chair over next to the bed for me to use. Once I sat on the chair I couldn’t believe what had happened.

The baby was born. I looked at Mike and simply said, “That was the baby.” He quickly called for the nurses, they came in and he told them that I had the baby while sitting on the chair. They were beyond stunned and somewhat in disbelief. I can remember that time absolutely stood still at that point. I can remember looking up at the clock and it said 8:00. Suddenly there was a lot of commotion around me, but it was like I was watching it all on a screen. I focused on Mike, who was handing scissors to one of the nurses and I said “Leave it to me to give birth to a baby in a portable toilet.” Of course, they had to be careful when cutting the cord and getting the baby and then trying to get me back into the bed. I can’t do anything the easy way. Two of the nurses went with the baby while the Doctor examined me and together we determined the best thing might now be for me to go and have a D&C to make sure everything was cleaned out.

We decided the day before that Mike would see the baby. If he thought I could handle seeing the baby, I would and if not I wouldn’t. He knew what I would be able to handle. While the Doctor was with me, Mike went with the nurses to be with our baby. Shortly after, Mike returned holding the most precious, most tiny, most perfect looking baby girl in the palm of his hand. She was born an angel. She was a mere 7 inches long and weighed half a pound. He handed her to me and again, time stood still. She was absolutely beautiful. She looked identical to her big brother. She was Emily Ann Rose. She was our girl. Soon I was taken down to surgery and Mike kept Emily with him while he made phone calls to the family at home. It was only about an hour before I was returned to my room, my husband and my baby girl. A minister arrived and spoke with us for the longest time, but I was really out of it from the anaesthetic, and as much as I tried to pay attention, I knew I was dosing in and out. Finally, it was just the 3 of us for another little while and then I dosed of to sleep for the night.

The next morning I was given the all-clear to leave after it was determined that it was safe to do so. They suggested that I stay in the city for one more day just in case I had any complications with bleeding. We left and went back to the hotel where we both slept again for hours. We decided we would stay for the night and head home in the morning. We spent the better part of the evening again on the phone, talking with our family at home.

We had to explain to them that we left Emily at the hospital. It was our choice. It was as much a teaching hospital as it was a practicing hospital and I wanted the staff to do whatever testing they could to determine what happened with our little girl. Perhaps they would be able to find something that would save some other family from ever having to go through they horror we went through the previous 36 hours.

We didn’t leave without memories of Emily. The staff at the hospital put together a beautiful Memory Box for Emily which contained the little outfit she was dressed in, as well as the exact same outfit without the staining on the front where her little abdomen had seeped some fluid through. The little hat she had on her head and a copy of her hand and foot prints were also included. There was literature for us to read on the loss of a child and many resources were provided to us as well. The Box is placed in a special spot in our home and every July 17, we have a

look at it’s contents.

Upon returning home we told Matthew the news. We sat down in our home, just the 3 of us, and had a chat. I started explaining that the baby was sick and the Doctor’s tried their very best to do what they could. He stopped me in mid sentences and asked quite bluntly, “Are you trying to tell me that my baby’s dead?” There was no longer any need to beat around the bush. He was understandably upset, but handled things like a real little trooper.

Over the next few days our home was very busy with family and friends stopping by. I was so glad Mike and I had a couple of days to come to terms with all this. It made it a little easier when it came to having to explain our story so many times. Everyone was so wonderful and meant so well, but I longed for the time when it would be just the 3 of us again.

About a week later we held a Memorial Service for our baby Emily Ann Rose. It was so beautiful and so appropriate.

Even though she was not with us, she couldn’t have been closer. We had our Angel in Heaven. We had our boy here with us. It was time to let the healing begin. It was time to try to enjoy the rest of our summer. Our big boy would be starting school in September. Something to look forward to, for sure. Or would it?

Until next time…

We still ran into “the other fella” as he still worked there as well, but between the two of us we decided that the only way he could bother us would be if we let him. We went about our duties and eventually he did the same. He was 10 years my senior, for heaven’s sake; it was time for him to grow up.

One day after my classes ended I took my weekly jaunt to the station to check in and see if there was any work coming up. My boss took me in the office and instead of looking in the remote book he said he needed to talk to me. He started off by saying he didn’t think there was room in radio for a female voice. Excuse me??? He didn’t see me going anywhere in the business. Pardon??? He suggested I was wasting my time. I asked him why the sudden change of heart? I was a top-notch producer, I had been there for them for every call, for every shift and I had received nothing but glowing reviews from everyone in the station - including him. There was something more and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I knew what it was.

The station was beginning to down-size. Automation was becoming the way of the future and shows/announcers were being cut. My new husband was one of them. It all comes down to a union vs. management thing that I don’t need to get into, but suffice it to say Mike was unjustifiably wronged by management, a grievance was filed and it went to arbitration - Mike won his case. The writing was on the wall. He was black-listed by management and they now wanted me out of there.

Little did he know that by telling me there was no place in radio for a female, he could have had a law suit on his hands. CRTC regulations stated that a certain percentage of the staff (on-air included) had to be female. Did I want to fight it? Yes. Did I fight it? No. Mike still worked there and we had to “play nice” - sort of.

Just like that I am without a job. It wasn’t much to begin with, but it helped. Now what? I went home and told Mike and then we went out for one of our infamous drives. Sometimes it was easier for us to discuss things without Mom and Dad being in earshot. We ended up at the mall and stopped to talk to a friend of ours. She worked at Suzy Shier where I had shopped for as long as I could remember. I knew most of the girls there: they were great. My friend’s boss was there as I was telling her about my day. Louise (the manager) said that she just hired someone yesterday for full-time. Damn. Oh well, maybe around Christmas time something else would come up. I had lots of retail experience and Louise knew me from working in the mall.

When I got home my friend called me and said that Louise wanted to talk to me. Long story short she offered me a full-time job!!! 3 hours after losing a job I had another one, but full-time??? What about university? *sigh* It never rains but it pours. I had a decision to make. I had a home to support, but I also had an education to get. Louise said she would work around my classes as best she could and we talked about my schedule. Evenings and Saturday’s worked for her. Looked like we were in business.

My new life back in retail was working well. Classes were going well. Life was good. Busy, but good. A few months after I started at Suzy Shier, one of the full-time keyholders left. I was next in line. This would mean dayshifts. Another decision. Mike and I talked and it wasn’t something I wanted to pass up. Mike’s hours dropped and this could be just the thing to make up the difference.

Now the hard part. I had to tell Mom and Dad that I was dropping out of university for now to go to work. In retail. Unfortunately, it didn’t go over very well. I was smarter than that. Did I want to work in retail the rest of my life? they expected more from me than that. They knew something like this was going to happen. I returned to the apartment crying. I hated disappointing them, but ultimately I had to do what was necessary for Mike and I - and right now that was having me go to work.

How it’s all going to go is anyone’s guess. We’ll just have to wait and see. God knows it won’t be easy.

Until next time…

After returning home I still had a week or so before classes started.  This gave me the chance to get the apartment settled.  It was fun to be able to go through all of our wedding gifts again. Holy smokes, we received a TON of stuff!  I had no idea where I was going to put it all.  There was nothing that I had to go out and buy. (**Seriously, 15 years later we were still taking new linens out of the linen closet and I opened the last set of bedding we had from our wedding!  Hhhmmmm, maybe it’s time for another shower or reception so we can restock! Oh well, our 25th is only 8 years away…LOL!)

There wasn’t a huge adjustment period for us getting used to living with one another.  The last year and a half while we dated Mike spent most night sleeping on the couch in our rec room anyway.  The 25 minute drive from my house to his just didn’t seem worth it when most times he’d be getting out of bed and heading over again, anyway.

The major adjustment came from living underneath my parents.  Now don’t get me wrong.  It really did work well (otherwise there is no way we would have been there for 7 years!) but there were times, let me tell you!!  Mom and Dad still wanted to know everything that was going on with us, and in the beginning I wanted to still tell them.  They were my parents, I told them everything — well not everything!  My mother (God love her) and my father both, but mostly Mom, had opinions about everything that we did.  If we dared to come home with something new that looked even a little bit expensive, Mom had a snit on her face.  She couldn’t NOT ask how much money we spent or what we felt we needed that for.

Herein started the arguments.   *sigh*  And I am ashamed to admit that 99.9%, well maybe not that much, but I bet you a good 95% of the arguments we have ever had over the last 17 years were thanks to little ol’ me, here.  In the beginning I was hell-bent on trying to  please Mom and Dad.  They, of course, were my parents and I did still live under their roof, after all.  WRONG METHOD OF THINKING! Unfortunately,  this method of thinking led to many hours of useless bickering and out and out verbal fights in our lives.  Thinking back now, I was such an idiot.  BUT, in my own defense, my philosophy seemed logical at the time.

See, as much as Mom, Dad and I fought when I was growing up, I idolized them both.  More so  Dad than Mom. I was Daddy’s Little Girl.  Dad was my Hero.  He was everything I grew to admire in a man.  I wanted my husband to be just like him.   He was a hard worker, he was very well known and respected in our community and he knew more people than I could ever possible hope to know.  If he wanted (or needed) something doe, he did it.  He knew how to do everything.  He never had to get anyone to do anything for him.  He was amazing!  He was an electrician by trade, but there was nothing he couldn’t do.  He built many houses, he was very smart and was involved in many outside organizations.  And Mom - well she was just Superwoman.   She was a SAHM her entire life.  Our home was always spotless.  Her job was taking care of her family, and she did it better than anyone I knew.

I don’t know if I wanted needed their approval, or what.  But it was to the point that I basically included them in every facet of our lives.  They knew what we were doing, when we were doing it and any time we had an issue I had to run it by them first.  You can begin to see why my husband would have trouble with this.  I would constantly compare Mike to Dad.  The two of them are very similar in so many ways, but there are naturally ways in which they are very different.  Mike is not as “hand’s-on” as my Dad is.  I don’t know if after living with Dad for so long and seeing so much of my family just know how to “do” stuff, I figured every guy was like that or what, but it near drove me nuts that Mike couldn’t just fix things or turn his hand to whatever had to be done.  I struggled with this for a long time.  Many years, in fact.

More times than not - in the beginning - Mike would just let me spout off.  I can only imagine how I made him feel at times.  I could be pretty nasty when I wanted to be.  There would be nights he’d go to work with a headache bad enough to cripple and elephant, I’m sure.  But, we always got through it.  9 times out of 10 he’d end up bowing to me and conceding just to keep the peace, I have no doubt.

Again, hindsight is 20/20.  Given the chance to live it all over, now that I’m older and have 17 years more experience behind me I certainly know I caused a lot of turmoil for nothing.  However, everything that we have gone through has brought us to where we are today.

Have things gotten any easier?  In some ways, yes.  But unbeknownst  to me the trials and tribulations were just beginning.

There is still the whole work fiasco ahead of us.  Arguing over my parents would soon become the least of our problems.

Until next time…

We are anxiously awaiting July 13.  Mike will be taking 10 weeks Paternity Leave and we can’t wait!!  This will be the first time since we were married that we both had any amount of time off during the summer.  We have a few plans - we rented a cabin in The Highlands for a few days and we are planning a trip to New Brunswick in August.  It’ll be gone before we know it, but I intend on enjoying every last second of it!

Alright, so before I interrupted my blog wayyyy back in September to follow my pregnancy, I was talking about the Story of Tracey and Mike.  After receiving a couple of requests to resume the story, I’m going to attempt to get my butt back in gear.  We left off at the Honeymoon, didn’t we?  Maybe I’ll go back to September and refresh my mind and hopefully tomorrow we’ll get back at it.  There’s still so much to the story….

Until next time…

I decided to sweep the floors and make sure the house was in oder.  I had a shower and sent Mike to the laundry room with a couple of small loads to run through.  By the time I was done drying my hair and getting dressed we decided to tell Matthew that I was having some pain.  I wanted to make sure though, because  didn’t want to disappoint him.   We were supposed to be going to a birthday party for my Uncle whose 60th birthday was that day.  We would still send Matt with Mom and Dad, but we’d hang tight home, just in case.

By 11:30 I decided we’d better get things together and head to the hospital - just to get checked as the contractions were getting closer - and stronger. This is happening very quickly.

I called my sister, who was my second support person and told her we were heading up.  By the time we dropped Matt off at Mom and Dad’s and made our way through town it was about 12:10 and we walked into Labour and Delivery at 12:15.

They hooked me up to the monitor and checked me, I was 5 cms and the contract ions were getting stronger and closer.  I decided lying down was horrible so I got them to raise the bed and I sat up in the bed.  What a difference that made!  The Dr. had prescribed  Dilaudid for pain, but really I was doing ok and didn’t need it.  He only lives 5 minutes away so he wasn’t sticking around but said to cal him when  got to 8-9 cms and he’d be right there.  There was a young female resident who was there who was fantastic.

After running the strip on me for about 20-30 minutes they suggested that I get up and walk for a while to see if I’d progress any more.  At the same time, another nurse (“spitfire”, we have affectionately nicknamed her) told me to get up and get in the shower with the hot water at my back.  My sister came in and held the nozzle while I sat backwards bent over a chair.  I have never had anything feel so good.  It was awesome.  However, it was short-lived.  I had a couple of small contractions while I was sitting there, but the third one was a doozie!!!  Holy Hanah, what was happening??  My body was pushing, right there on the chair!!  I told my sister to stop the water, I needed a cold facecloth and i told them to get me out of there - NOW!  Talk about scurry!  They were trying to get a johnny-shirt on me and get me to the bed because all I said was “He’s coming!”

Once they got me onto the bed they told me to hang on a second until they checked me.  I could hardly move I needed to push so bad but they were great and quick and worked fast to get me positioned.  Looked like the Resident was going to be delivering because there was no way they had time to call the Dr.  In about 30 minutes I went from 5 cms to TEN CENTIMETERS!!!!  We’re good to go (…like they had to tell ME that!)  When they checked me they could see his head.  All they said was “You tell us when you’re ready to push.”  So on the next contraction I pushed.  I could feel him descending.  I don’t remember feeling that with Matthew.  It was burning so badly, but it was because he was crowning and was moving very fast through the birth canal.  The next contraction I pushed again and his head came out and he turned to have his shoulders properly placed.  That was an interesting sensation.  Please let another contraction come quickly because this really burned.  It seemed like 2 hours, but it was probably on 45 seconds or so before the next contraction.  There was no way I was going through this any longer, he’s outta here.  “Here we go!” I said.   I pushed like I have never pushed before in my life and I couldn’t believe what I was feeling.   Out he came flying!!  Three pushes.  Maybe 10 minutes from the time I got out of the shower.  No doctor, no meds, no nothing.   There was no time - jumpins’ they were gonna send me walking for an hour!  It was now 1:52 pm and Marcus was here.

The nurses and the resident did awesome!!  They were so great!  I was as impressed with them as they were with me!   LOL  After they let Mike cut the cord and they had Marcus over checking him out, my Dr. came in.  I looked at him and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be quite THAT fast!”  We all laughed.  He was there to watch the resident deliver the placenta and because Marcus came so quickly I had a second-degree tear, so he allowed her to stitch me.  She was wonderful.

During the stitching, Mike, my sister and I were all on our cell phones..lol.  The first call was to Matthew who was out at the BBQ.  The place went nuts when Matthew announced that Marcus was here.  No ne could believe it!

Shortly after, I sent a text through to my CPOers who were on stand-by!  It all happened so fast.  The next thing I knew they were moving us to our room and my sister (who is a nurse in the hospital) had to leave because of the visitor restrictions.

We had to wait four hours to feed Marcus but he slept beside us the entire time.  He weighed in at 8 lbs 1 ounce and was 20.5 inches long.

As I write this it is 1:00 AM on Monday morning.  We woke him to feed him at 10:00 pm, changed him and he’s been asleep since.

I wanted to get this much written down and typed in before there were parts that would slip my mind.  I’ll get more typed later and I’ll add pictures as well.

But, to sum it up quickly, simply amazing is the only thing I can say!

Until next time…

First of all, in my case, I became pregnant (not that I wasn’t happy about this, I was just stunned beyond words), then I wanted to be “12 weeks” pregnant, then I wanted to be “20 weeks pregnant” and past the point where we lost Emily, and then I wanted to be 38 weeks 1 day pregnant, past the point where I had Matthew and then I wanted Marcus to be here and now that I am at my due date I want Marcus to be here more.

Why am I not satisfied to just let time go by as it sees fit and enjoy things as they come? I know I’m tired, I know I’m sore, I know I’m cranky, I know I’m anxious, but I also know I’m thankful. Out of 4 pregnancies I have had the best, most wonderful 40 weeks that I have ever had in my life, even with all the tiredness, soreness, crankiness and anxiety. This has pretty much been a perfect pregnancy for me. No complications, no scares, no surprises. I’m so blessed and fortunate.

So why do I keep wishing time away?

I think it’s human nature. We (at least I) are always in such a hurry to get on with things that I very rarely stop to enjoy the moment and appreciate life as it’s happening. I wish my life away. Before I know it, Matthew will be grown, Marcus will be grown and then what? What happens then?

I need to slow down and not be in such a hurry to have the next event in my life happen. I really need to stop and smell the roses. Everything happens for a reason, in it’s own time, for it’s own reason. (Although the reason for me being awake at 4:45 AM totally baffles me at the moment…lol)

I am going to try to work on that. Relaxing, chillin’ out, just “being”. Wonder if I can do it?

Let’s start with enjoying April 26, 2008. We’ll see what he day brings, and if it doesn’t bring Marcus into this world, well hey, there’s always tomorrow, right??

Until next time….

Will this be the last chance I have by myself? How different will our lives be days or weeks from now? Matthew seems to be thrilled about Marcus’ arrival; will his enthusiasm continue once Marcus actually arrives? I have a billion thoughts going through my mind and no answers. his is what frustrates me about this thing we call life. I have very little control over things until they actually happen. That drives me batty. I can prepare and I can surmise what is going to happen, or how I hope things are going to go, but until events take place I have to try to be patient and let the chips fall where they may. Easier said than done, I’m afraid. The unknown drives me bonkers!

I guess at the end of the day all I can do is try to be as prepared as possible - for any situation. I have to have several plans of action outlined in my mind and be able to draw on the fact that anything could happen.  Sounds like I’m getting ready for the Stanley Cup playoffs or something, doesn’t it? Well I am, kind of.  Life is my opponent and in order to win, I have to be ready for anything. I have to be realistic enough to realize that if it’s too good to be true, it probably is and just when I think things are running smoothly a kink will be thrown in somewhere along the line. It’s all in how you handle the kinks that will determine the outcome. As much as I believe we create our own destiny, we can only do it to the best of our ability to accept that things can go well and they can go not so well but how we react can have a definite positive or negative effect on any give situation.

So as I babble on like a woman who is 20 days away from her due date I realize that as long as I keep an open mind about the immediate future I can to some extent control how it is going to play out. If I fret over something that may or may not happen, I’m wasting my energy; which at this point can be directed in much better ways.

I have to have faith, I have to have confidence, and I have to have trust that I have handled worse and gotten through it all just fine. This is just another chapter. We will be thickening the plot and adding another character - the main idea may expand a bit also, but the general story line is going to remain the same. I must go back and refresh myself as to the strengths and weaknesses of my main character. A character study never hurt anyone - actually, it normally does me all the good in the world.

Now, enough philosophizing. Time to go enjoy this beautiful day.

Until next time…

I finished up work a week ago and am now enjoying my time being a wife and a mother on a full-time basis.  It’s wonderful to be able to get up in the morning and putter around the house, do the laundry, cook meals and spend time with Mike and Matthew.   We are ready for the arrival of Marcus and to say Matthew is excited is the understatement of the universe!   We have the date marked out on the calendar and he is counting down daily.

Today I was finally able to get some pictures done with Matthew.  I have been trying for a while, but in the life of an 11 year old boy, other things always seemed to take priority.  We caught him today on a good day.  Either that or he  decided that this would be the day he’d humour Mom.  I’d like to share our photo-session with you.

We had fun and it was so nice to hear Mat interacting with the baby as Marcus was kicking away while these pictures were being taken.  I’m sure once Marcus arrives there will be moments of trying times, but so-far-so-good.  I’m glad Mathew has been such a huge part of this pregnancy.  It’s really been amazing to watch this entire process through his eyes.  It gave both Mike and I an outlook on things that we didn’t have when we were expecting Matthew.  The outlook through the eyes of a child - the eyes of a Big-Brother-To-Be.  That’s been special.

Until next time…