Owen is Six (weeks old)!

• Still waiting on his first non-gassy smile.
• He will follow daddy or I with his eyes if we leave him.
• He loves his Tigger rattle and keeps trying to grab it with his chubby little fists.

Jumping over a hurdle

I did it!

Even though we had a rough start, I was determined to get out and about relatively quickly. Because I had a caesarean, the only thing I have been allowed to lift is Owen, barring me from using the stroller. In order to leave the apartment and go for daily walks, we had been using one of three slings: a Moby-type wrap a friend made me, a fancy brocade sling, and a cozy corduroy D-ring sling. I'm almost 6-weeks post-op and decided I wanted to try taking my little man out in his stroller. I didn't have to lift anything, just tilt it.

I had been so fearful of pushing Owen in his stroller into a Starbucks. Silly, I know. I used to curse those women and their strollers, walking down the street with a coffee in their hand. Now I know why so many mums end up at the coffee shops - it's really one of the only places to go when the baby is asleep and you can finally have a hot coffee and read/do a crossword puzzle/catch up on whatever. I was worried about some dirty looks, but the place was teeming with other mothers. I even managed to open the door by myself and get the stroller in without banging into anything - a real accomplishment for a clumsy oaf like myself!

Since I was in the neighbourhood, and feeling quite proud of myself, I decided to wheel him up to VGH so he could be quickly introduced to my coworkers, who thought he was adorable. He even managed a smile while we were there.

Really?

But I wanted a girl!!! Yeeshers.

I was hoping for a girl because of matching mummy/daughter outfits, but I'm definitely not heartbroken about it or cry myself to sleep. It was a surprise to hear, "It's a boy!" Truth be told, I can't imagine myself the mother of a daughter, and it's only been 29 days!

I wouldn't be able to read this book to a girl either. (For a good laugh, read the 1-star reader comments regarding the "creepiness" of the story.)

First Family Photo

Mummy & Me

It really does get easier with time. Those quiet moments with my little Mr. Man, when he's content and silent, looking up at me with those big ol' eyes...it just about melts my heart and makes me totally forget all those times I want to pull my hair out I'm so frustrated. Yeeshers, Owen - you're quite the charmer.

Birth Story

*This isn't going to be particularly poetic or well written, just a written account of little Owen's entry into this world.

On Friday, October 16, I had really itchy skin and my feet were still extremely swollen. Mum was concerned and told me to call the midwife on-call, which I did. I explained my symptoms, and she told me to go to a lab for a blood test, which I did. I was told to expect the results the following morning. By Saturday, October 17 at noon, I still hadn't heard anything, so I called again. After phone tag, the midwife on-call told me to go to Assessment at BC Women's Hospital and pack an overnight bag "just in case" as there was protein in my urine and other abnormalities.

Adam and I, along with mum and dad, hightailed it to the hospital, where I was hooked up to fetal monitors and had more blood tests. After 4 hours, they decided that my blood pressure was high enough and my blood tests were abnormal enough that induction was a step in the right direction.

Long story short, two induction attempts with Cervadil (failed) and one induction attempt with Oxytocin (failed), horrendously painful cervical checks from which I never thought I'd recover, a doctor who thought I had had an epidural for the uterus contraction monitor, and rupture of my membranes all happened by the morning of Monday, October 19. Mum and I had been pushing for a C-section for hours, as we both felt this was where it was going.

By 11:53 a.m. on Monday, Owen was born by C-section. I was left in Recovery by myself for a few hours and then joined Adam and Owen in our private room.

24 hours later (Tuesday, October 20), I started projectile vomiting and became delirious (later found out to be the cause of dehydration). I had two IVs, blood tests taken from my still-swollen feet, I was rambling about dead men in the water (?), my kidneys weren't functioning properly, my blood pressure was high...It was scary. I don't remember much.

I had a team of doctors and nurses look after me, and by Wednesday I was on the mend. It was on this day that I was told I had had pre-eclampsia (undiagnosed by my midwives despite me telling them for weeks that I had extremely swollen feet, protein in my urine on more than one occasion, and abnormally high bp). I later found out my placenta and amniotic fluid were infected, causing Owen to be on antibiotics for the first three days of life. Thankfully, he's fine now. I also lost a litre of blood during the C-section.

Basically, I didn't trust my gut and didn't listen to Adam or my parents regarding the lack of care shown by my midwives. I suspected something was wrong for weeks, but trusted them and their repeated mantra of "It's normal, it's normal, it's normal."

This really isn't well written, but it needs to be written down, for my sake. I would not go back to a midwife if I were to become pregnant again. There's no point in should haves or would haves. I wish I had been listened to and sent for tests. I wish I would have listened to myself!

I'm not going to wallow and feel sorry for myself or brood about the fact that I am recovering from a C-section, taking care of a newborn, and being followed by Internal Medicine and prescribed Adalat, iron tablets, and antibiotics. We are so lucky to have family and friends who have been so good to us, so kind, so caring.

I haven't decided if I will contact SCBP regarding what happened to me. I'm sure there's a lawsuit in there somewhere, but to be honest, I want to spend this time getting to know Owen, figuring out how to be a mum, and taking it easy. I don't want to worry myself with what happened.