Darwyn's Birth Story - the long version

As many of you may have read in the update to the post "All hands on deck" Darwyn made her way into this world in a somewhat stop and start fashion.  On Tuesday March 20th I experienced the first tell tale signs of labor.  I was especially pleased by this development because Jean had asked us to bet when Darwyn would be born and I had said that I thought I would go into labor on the 20th and Darwyn would be born on the 21st.  I based this guess entirely on how things had gone with Max.  He was also due on the 16th (albeit of April) and I had had the first signs of labor with him on the 20th and delivered him on the morning of the 21st.  It wasn't much to go on, but when one is trying to guess when their baby will be born, evidence is scarce.   But I was not bothered by the fact that my success was largely luck.  James girls love to be right.

So you can imagine how well I took it when, that evening, I went to bed with contractions and the next morning woke up with no baby and no labor.  Darwyn, it seemed, was out to thwart my plans.  I was mighty grumpy and declared to Gus that the baby would never be born.  The probability that a baby will be born on any given day gets smaller as you move away from the due date, I argued, and that meant that as the days passed I became less and less likely to ever give birth.  Gus, being mathematically inclined, looked rather pained at this argument.  He tried to explain some nonsense about lack of independence of events, but I would not be comforted by logic.

The morning passed without a single sign of impending labor and Gus and I decided to bike to our midwife appointment that afternoon.   The midwives brightened my mood considerably.  First, they told me I was already 4cm dilated.  Second, they told me that I was absolutely right that my stop and go labor was an extreme injustice.  Finally, and best of all, they told me that a membrane sweep would probably start it again. So I got the sweep and Gus and I started home.  I made it 3 blocks to the library and by then I was experiencing contractions.  I told Gus I wasn't biking anymore and he would have to go home and get the car.   So much for bragging that I biked to and from the midwives 41 weeks pregnant.

At home the labor progressed quickly.  The irregular contractions promptly became regular and quite painful.  Gus filled the tub and I lounged in it while he called the midwife's pager and left a message.  He informed them that we thought I was in active labor and the they should likely head over soon.  The midwives had told us that labor would progress quickly this time and that we should call them as soon as we suspected active labor.  They usually return pages within 5 or 10 minutes, so when we had still not heard from them 20 minutes later we were becoming a little alarmed.  I told Gus to call again, and this time make it sound more urgent.  This time he said, "She is definitely in active labor.  Get your butts over here."  End of message.  Twenty more minutes....still no midwives.  Gus called the other midwife's pager.  The answering machine cut him off, beeped randomly and made a variety of other alarming noises.  This was not good.

I tried to logic with Darwyn.  I explained to her that since she was so into stop and go labors, now might be a good time to stop.  She had other ideas.  The labor proceeded with gusto.  Just as Gus and I were trying to come up with plan B, the phone rang.  The midwives were on their way.  The pagers, they explained, had malfunctioned.  Somehow the whole pager system was down.  Emily (whose pager Gus had initially called) had gotten a strange feeling about her pager and happened to ask Michelle to call it.  When it didn't ring they knew immediately that Murphey's law meant we had called.  Emily managed to get her messages and the midwives were suitably alarmed by Gus's "get your butt over here." Michelle grabbed the nearest second midwife she could find and raced for our house.  "Is she feeling the urge to push?" she asked Gus over the phone.  Luckily I was not and the midwives made it to the house in enough time to set up and be calm and collected when Darwyn arrived.

I decided to deliver Darwyn in the great birthing tub we had set up outside.  I highly recommend water births.  The heat and water felt amazing.  Gus got in the tub with me and declared that he would like a beer.  The whole experience was reminiscent of spending a summer evening in an outdoor hot tub....well except the pain, screaming and disgusting stuff floating in the water.  Fortunately, Gus is not squeamish and he ignored all of this.   He told me I was amazing and pretended the experience was not in the slightest distasteful.  Fortunately, he did not have to pretend long.  We got into the tub and after four pushes and just 3 hours of active labor, Darwyn was born.

As if to add one final alarm to her stop and start entry into the world, Darwyn decided not to start breathing.  The midwives set her on my chest and she looked up at me wide eyed and alert.  She seemed calm and fascinated by her new environment, but not particularly interested in this thing called inhalation.  The midwives rubbed her vigorously, but she only regarded them with curiosity.  She started to develop a blue tinge.  I became alarmed.  The midwives cut the cord and rushed her over to their hospital on wheels, conveniently set up in the adjacent bedroom.  One puff of air and we heard a lusty cry.  Darwyn had finally made it.

"Good thing," Gus told me.  "Our name choice would have been rather unfortunate if she had been naturally selected."

Construction Nirvana

Last Sunday, Grandma and Grandpa Gutoski took Gus, Max and I out to a construction site they discovered.  On the drive there we passed many construction vehicles and I couldn't help thinking, 'what is so special about this site?'  When we arrived, however, I understood perfectly.  The construction site was more of an unattended parking lot for construction vehicles.

The place was totally dead on a Sunday morning and just begging for some exploring.  Max was overwhelmed with excitement.  He couldn't get enough.  It also made a great opportunity for some fun photos.  It felt somewhat like going to sears where they stage your child with the old fashioned tricycle and teddy bear...except we were posing our kid on a 30 ton dump truck.

I've included a few of my favorite shots below, but you can see the whole album here.

Big Truck!

Gandpa and Max discover that the cab is unlocked...

Honk Honk.

Max does a happy dance.

Darwyn is born

Darwyn Jean Gutoski was born on 2012-March-21 at 19:35 in our home.  (Actually, she was born in an inflatable birthing tub just outside our home, under the back veranda as described in the previous post.)  She weighed 3.4kg (7lb 8oz) and measured 52cm (20.5in) at the time of birth.  Both baby and mother are in excellent condition.  Active labour lasted only three hours.  Just as with Max's birth, the midwives who delivered Darwyn did a fantastic job and we are extremely pleased with our home birth.

Darwyn has successfully fed several times already.  (Though she's being stubborn about it at the present moment).  We are grateful to our friends and family for such support during this delicate time.  Thanks, everyone, for your patience.  We'll post more as we find the time.

Darwyn is only minutes old when this picture was taken.  Mom and dad are still in the birthing tub.

The rest of these pictures were taken earlier today, when Darwyn was still less than 24 hours old.

My foot's bigger than yours!

Max pretending to sleep with mommy and Darwyn

All hands on deck

Greta has shown some early signs of labour.  There's a good moderate chance that nothing will happen tonight.  Nonetheless, we sent Max and the dogs to Gramma and Grampa G's house as a precautionary measure -- if labour does occur in the middle of the night then we'll be glad we sent him now.  No unnecessary phone calls, please.

Update (2012-Mar-21 09:15):  Greta had painful contractions before bed last night.  She couldn't sleep.  Thinking labour was imminent, she took some gravol and tylenol to help her get some sleep before the fireworks.  She awoke this morning no longer in labour and mighty grumpy about it.  She suspects that the drugs halted her labour.  Still waiting.  Perhaps we'll go for a walk.

Here is a final "before" photo of the belly.

Does my outie bellybutton make me look fat?

We prepared our bedroom for the home birth.  On a whim, Greta borrowed an inflatable birthing tub from her friend and fellow mother Andrea.  The weather's been so nice recently that we joked today about inflating the birthing tub outside under the veranda.

Ha ha.  Funny joke.  Since then, we inflated the birthing tub outside, hung up some bed sheets for privacy, and tidied up the area.  As a bonus, we discovered some old, tinted, unused light fixtures that provide excellent mood lighting at night.  (Unfortunately, the mood is not easily captured on camera.)

The birthing tub with bed sheets hanging in the background.

Chairs and a table prepared for tea time.  The deep freeze provides food storage for the long haul.

Greta may or may not do some labouring in the tub.  She may or may not give birth in the tub.  These decisions will be made on an as-needed basis.  Don't try to stop us!  You can't!  It's too late!  MwahaHAAAA!.  A couple more pictures.

Gus testing the birthing tub and providing perspective for the photo.

The recommended birthing position.  I couldn't resist including this photo.  I'm still laughing out loud, right now, by myself, as I type.

Little quirks

Gus and I were reminiscing today about Max's many little quirks as an infant and it got me to thinking that I should likely write down some of his current funny quirks.  Despite its lack of literary finesse I think the plain old list will have to do:

1) Max speaks amazingly well.  His enunciation is exceptionally clear and he speaks in full sentences, but he is convinced that "you" means himself and "me" and "I" refer to others.  He also tends to turn statements into questions.  This makes for a very tricky conversation with strangers.  For example, early in the morning shivering Max sat on his potty conversing with Aunty Heidi, who had generously offered to put him on it.
  
    Max: Are you cold?
    Heidi: No, I'm fine thanks
    Max: (with pained expression).....Are YOU cold?
    Heidi: No Max.  I'm quite warm.

2) Our dogs have an odd habit of stuffing their faces with food right before we take them on a walk.  It is as if they believe that we may never come home again and they want to have a full belly to face the unknown wilderness.  Max seems to have taken this "eat while you still can" mentality to heart.  He doddles with his food until long after everyone has left the table, mostly playing with it and eating very little.  Finally he will declare "Are you all done?" and Gus or I will show up with a cloth to wipe his face.  The instant he sees us approaching he immediately starts stuffing as much food as he can in his mouth and holds on to any extra he can get in his little fists.  It makes washing his hands a bit of a challenge....

3) Max has also applied the "eat at the bitter end" approach he takes to food to his favorite activities.  One of his absolute favorite pass times is to drive the car.  He sits in the front seat happily pressing buttons, turning on and off lights and honking the horn.  He also repeatedly asks for the key, which we never give him.  Anyway, sooner or later all good things must come to an end and either Gus or I will declare "one-minute warning" before getting out of the car.  Max will immediately begin frantically pressing every button in sight at triple speed for the entire duration of his minute.  I'm not sure whether this makes leaving better, but it sure is funny to watch.

Anyway, I'm sure there are more, but at least I've jotted these ones down!

Calm before the storm, Addendum

I forgot to mention in the previous post that, among our many accomplishments yesterday, we mounted our shiny new coat rack.

This rack and bench was acquired for us via Gramma Sandi's keen observation of kijiji and Tom and Jean's willingness to pick it up from Sandi and Lee's house to drive it all the way from Ottawa to Waterloo for us.  Thanks everyone!  It looks great!

Calm before the storm

Greta's due date for baby #2 was yesterday.  Still no baby.

Gramma and Grampa G took Max yesterday morning and kept him overnight, giving Greta and I with a wonderful opportunity to relax, enjoy the nice weather, and scurry about the house madly trying to prepare for the new baby.

What did Gramma and Grampa G do with Max all this time?  Here's a clue:

We had a wonderful day.  Our house is clean.  Our clothes, towels, and bed sheets are freshly laundered and dried in the hot March sun.  We de-stuffified a bit.  (Chippin' away at the mountain.)  We even did some work in the yard, if you can believe it.  We read books.  We walked the dogs.  Greta cooked.  We slept in this morning.  (I think I got upwards of 10 hours last night!)  Amidst all this activity and accomplishment it still felt as though life were progressing at a slow, relaxed pace.  It's amazing what a day or two of child-free time can do for one's outlook.

No sign of baby #2 yet, though Greta has been having mild contractions randomly throughout the past week.  We're about as ready as we'll ever be right now.

Pictures

I posted a bunch of spring pictures taken with the fancy camera, to picasa:

Enjoy!

The new bed

Gus and I decided to try our hands at building Max a new bed.  We were quite sad to say goodbye to the tent, but Max is quickly becoming too long for it.  Add to this that Max will soon be joined by a sibling and we had the perfect excuse to make a cool bed structure, complete with puppet theater.  Gus's parents offered to buy us something off the shelf, but I absolutely had to have a custom (and likely much uglier) bed.  So Gus and I set to work building a bed out of scraps of lumber we had lying around...most of which Gus pilfered out of a garbage bin.

Needless to say it took us a very long time to complete this relatively simple project, but Max was extremely excited by the whole process.  He loved "helping" dad (see pictures below).  The hardest part was convincing him that he shouldn't play on top of the bed when it was (a) half build and thus not sturdy and (b) had no railing or protection from falling whatsoever.  I learned how to make nets online and when we had finally put a net around the bed to protect him from falling, he could barely contain himself.  For some reason he has decided the upper bed (which he will not be allowed to sleep in for a year or two yet) is a bus and makes Gus and I sit up there for long periods of time singing wheels on the bus and bouncing up and down on pillows.  I prefer to play "sleeping".

We are still finishing off some of the details.  I may paint the structure sometime this summer...but all and all we are very happy with our handy work.  Everyone else looks at it with a pained expression.  They don't seem the least bit surprised when we proudly declare that much of the wood was salvaged from a dumpster.

Disaster mitigation

A month ago I wrote at great length about two "disasters" that struck at the same time -- car damage and dog fleas.  I'm happy to present a positive follow-up report on the result of our efforts at disaster mitigation.

First, the car.

Here is a pair of before-and-after pictures of the damage to our car and the repair job.

A nasty scrape.  You can't see it in this picture, but there's actually a three-inch-long rupture in the metal.

My ugly-but-effective repair job.  If you look closely you can see lines where the spray paint ran down in some parts, while in other parts the paint isn't thick enough to mask the primer underneath.  Also, I could not find an exact match for our car's paint colour.  Also, the door is still badly misshapen.  But... THERE ARE NO HOLES.

At the time of the incident I was under the impression that auto-body work can only be done by a professional at great expense.  I complained loudly to that effect on this blog.  However, a few seconds of Googling revealed that it is, in fact, possible to repair body damage such as this by one's self!  Who knew?  With an hour of careful research I was able to figure out exactly what I needed to do.  I spent all of $40 on Bondo, primer, and paint at Canadian Tire.  It took the better part of a day to fill the hole and sand the Bondo.  (Many coats, inept application.)

So if any of my loyal readers ever needs some body work done... you know who to avoid.

Next, the fleas.

Our cleaning blitz, combined with liberal use of the expensive flea treatment, quickly eliminated the fleas.  (Or at least put them into remission.  One can never be sure that they're completely gone, or that the dogs won't bring new fleas from outside.  Every once in a while I catch one of our dogs scratching himself or herself and I go into a nervous panic.  Thus far, however, it's been nothing but smooth sailing.)

Mostly cute pictures

This is mostly just a collection of cute pictures.  In the way of a brief summary of the events depicted in said pictures, the following has been happening in our lives:

1) My sister and her sons Eric and Anthony recently visited.  They gave Max a brand new John Deere tractor which is much loved (see pictures).
2) We finally decided we should take some pictures of baby Darwyn before she is born, so I've included a few shots of me looking fat.
3) The rest of the photos have no real theme....but they are cute.

Grandma's glasses

Max masters the phone....almost

Now that Anthony has left, Max will need to learn to pedal

The best part of this gift is that Eric built it for us.

This is a poo hand!

Max thinks that pulling on my belly button will get the baby out