At the time of writing this, Wren is approaching his fourth birthday. I wrote his birth story when he was one month old, and now that I have this blog, I am able to share that with you today.
I will post Wren’s birth story on September 17th. This is a special day because it was both of our son’s due date, three years apart.
(Click here to watch Beauregard’s Unassisted Home Birth Story.)
This is the story of the day Wren was born.
Finding Out I Was Pregnant
Christmas 2016:
Jon and had been married for four months when we decided to “try”. It was Christmas. I had wine.
Saturday January 7, 2017:
I had an appointment with my acupuncturist to help heal issues related to endometriosis.
Before I went to acupuncture I wondered if I was pregnant, so I took a Dollar Store pregnancy test. It was negative. Later when my acupuncturist was doing the consultation, she hesitated while taking my pulse (she said it was “slippery”). Then she told me to stick out my tongue, and asked if I could be pregnant.
I told her it was possible, but I just took a test, and it was negative. She wanted to know for sure before she went ahead with the treatment, so she sent me around the block to buy a digital pregnancy test. I took the test in the basement bathroom of the old historical building she worked in… PREGNANT!
I ran up the stairs with clammy hands and told her it was positive. She cried, and hugged me. I was shocked, but of course bursting with excitment. Our treatment plan changed that day. I tried to relax during my treatment – but I was thinking about how I was going to tell Jon.
Jon doesn’t typically work on the weekends, but occasionally there would be events at the University. This Saturday, was one of those rare University event days. He didn’t get home until late.
I decided to journal what happened that day, then let him read it when he got home. He smiled and we hugged. I think we just stared at each other a lot that night, sometimes laughing, sometimes just… “THE FIRST TRY?!”
Midwife or Doctor? Hospital or Home?
Most women I knew had their babies with doctors, in hospitals. I wondered what my options were, so I researched it. I liked the sound of a midwife and home birth. Midwives are hard to get your hands on here in Alberta, Canada so it’s best to apply as soon as possible. I was contacted a few weeks later by a woman named Janelle.
Janelle became my midwife, and we visited her for regular check ups. We discussed the logistics of our situation…
We live about an hour and fifteen minutes from a hospital. If something should go wrong, that’s a risky length of time. We agreed that the birth centre in the city was a good compromise – being just minutes away from the hospital if we needed it.
The birth centre was absolutely spectacular. It was spotlessly clean, peaceful and equipped with everything a labouring and birthing women could need. The midwives had all of their medical kits there. The beds were beautiful. The bath tubs and showers were huge. The lighting and temperature was all adjustable. There was a beautiful garden you could labor in if you wanted, and a huge kitchen you could use. It was like a spa.
Gender and Names
We had minimal ultrasound scans, and decided to NOT find out the gender of our baby. But, as you now know – the baby was a BOY and we named him Wren. This is the name of a little brown bird that is very common here, but it is also the middle four letters of my dad’s name – Lawrence.
My niece is the first grandchild, and her middle name is Owen. This was also my brother Andrew’s middle name. He died in 2011. Wren is the second grandchild and his middle name is William. This was my brother Phillip’s middle name. He died in 2007. William is also my dad’s middle name.
We noticed the name Wren while we were scrolling through some name lists online. Jon and I both pointed it out and thought it was unique. Now you can see it has a lot of significance.
The other boy name we liked (it was a real contender) was Abel. The girl name we liked was Primrose. Primrose has a special meaning, too (but we’ll let that one be my little secret).
The Pregnancy
The pregnancy was for the most part – text book. I felt pretty normal for the first few weeks. We told our families the news when we were 6 weeks along, with a cake that said, “pink, blue, maybe two, all we know is that we’re due…”
Then, around 9 weeks pregnant, the nausea and exhaustion hit me. I was a full time, fully booked hairstylist and so I needed to admit that I was pregnant to my clients and take two weeks off. The nausea was relentless. I didn’t vomit, but in a way, I wished I could to relieve the constant feeling of needing to. It took about a month for me to begin feeling better.
My energy returned in the second trimester, but at 14 weeks pregnant I developed very painful symptoms called SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction).
SPD is caused by hormones like relaxin, which make your ligaments and muscles become loose. This makes unbalanced movements extremely painful in the pelvic area. Walking fast (or running), rolling over in bed, leaning forward, lifting, getting dressed, stepping over something – all excruciating. This usually happens in the third trimester when your body is preparing for the birth.
The pelvic pain slowed me down a lot, but I was able to continue working until I was 8 months pregnant. It was not easy.
We also renovated our entire main floor during these 9 months. That was not easy either. We hired someone to come in to do the demolition of our bedroom and bathroom area. Our living room became the temporary bedroom. We taped plastic up to keep some dust out, but the piles of tools and our homeless belongings still surrounded us. This was also when I was sick and exhausted during the first trimester…laying in bed, trying to be invisible while the contractor demolished the house around me…
Except for those first few weeks with the contractor, we did all of the work ourselves. We worked on our house for the entire nine months I was pregnant.
The due date came and went and I was NOT ready for the baby to come. The house was not ready. There was still lots to do, but the countertops were the last big project we wanted to get done before the baby came.
The Labor
(I wrote this when Wren was one month old)
September 24, 2017 (7 days over “due”):
It was Sunday, and I spent most of the day down the road at my parents’ house, visiting with my mom. I was having some cramping, but I didn’t pay much attention to it, as I had been having these cramps every day for the last 3 months.
When I got home around 4:00pm, I noticed these cramps were coming around more often. I timed one – 7 minutes apart. Our midwife, Janelle, recommended that we leave when the contractions are 6 minutes apart (because of the distance).
We had a carpenter scheduled to come install new countertops the next morning, and we still needed to remove the old countertops. We got right to work – packing a bag in case things got real, and making a huge mess of our house, again…
I continued to time some contractions and found them to be inconsistent. I had read that early labor would start with 30 second long contractors that would be anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes apart. The spacing seemed to be the real deal, but the contractions were lasting much longer than 30 seconds. Where were these magical little 30 second contractions?!
I had been practicing my breathing for 30 second contractors. I knew I could handle 30 seconds. These contractions seemed to never end. Three to five minutes was hard to bounce back from – but I was determined to rock this.
I sat on my yoga ball all night long, riding out the long contractions, and hoping for some consistency. Some contractions were really close together, and some were 20 minutes apart. If I laid down, the contraction wouldn’t stop. So I sat all night, and then all day on Monday, too.
September 25, 2017 (8 days over "due"):
I stayed in my bedroom most of the day on Monday. The countertop installer was working in the kitchen, and I wasn’t in the socializing mood. (Although, he was a lovely man.)
Jon brought me food and drinks all morning. In the afternoon, we were starting to wonder what the heck what going on with me. I was still in labor. Things weren’t slowing down, but they also weren’t regulating. We wondered if the baby was in a bad position.
We tried all these different positioning tricks we learnt in a birthing class. While the countertop installer was sawing away, I was hanging out with my butt in the air and my face on the floor.
Then we tried laying me on my side, and draped my top leg off the bed (remember that SPD thing – ouch).
Then we tried this fun move where I kneel on all fours, wrap a scarf under my belly, pull up, and shake.
Nothing was making me normal.
We decided to go outside. It was beautiful fall day. I snuck past the kitchen (avoiding human contact), and slipped on my rubber boots. We walked out to the field and stopped by a hay bale. The curve of the round bale was comfortable when I pushed back into it. We laid in the grass behind a bale and I dosed off for a short time between my long contractions. I had just pulled my first all night-er in 10 years, and that minute of sleep was amazing.
As the evening approached, I had been in labor for 24 hours. My midwife, Janelle, was texting with me and suggested I try acupuncture to help regulate the long contractions and irregular spacing. I agreed with her. I messaged my acupuncturist, and was able to see her that night.
My mom came to our house to supervise the countertop installation, and care for our dogs. We live an hour away from the acupuncture clinic in the city. The drive in was hard, but also exciting to know we were onto the next step of meeting our baby. The countertop installer was so excited that I was “going now?!” to have the baby.
Acupuncture was intense. Laying on the bed made the contractions last even longer, and the hot flashes that came along with the contractions were overwhelming. I held it together and didn’t move a muscle while I had needles and fancy-electric-pulsing-wire-stuff hooked up to me. It wasn’t a guarantee that acupuncture would work, but I was feeling optimistic. After, we decided to pick up some food and get a hotel room in the city.
I was so out of it, I couldn’t tell you what hotel we were at. It was a nice one though. It had a full bedroom, kitchen, living room, and big bathroom, but no tub…NO TUB. I tried sitting in the shower. It was alright. I didn’t really find anything to bring relief.
I took the cushions off the couch and knelt on them. I spent the next few hours on the couch cushions, or in the shower. I didn’t want to be stuck standing or sitting when a contraction started. Once one started, I was frozen in that position.
The contractions were really becoming stronger. They were still several minutes long, and irregular, but much stronger. I felt like pushing. The midwife decided to come check on me. She got to the hotel at midnight on Monday night. I was 32 hours into labor, and only 2 centimeters dilated. Janelle said the baby was very very low, but I still had a lot of dilating to do. She also said that since I was able to talk to her between the contractions, we still had a way to go. She suggested that we try to get some sleep (LOL), and have Jon call when I couldn’t form sentences anymore.
September 26, 2017 (9 days over "due"):
The midwife left our hotel, and I became an animal.
At 3:00am on Tuesday morning, Jon called Janelle and said, “I think it’s that time.” She said to meet her at the birth center. My contractions never ended, and I really felt like pushing now. It was so hard to get off the floor and out to the car.
When we finally made it to the birth center, I got straight into the tub. It was a big corner tub, and I faced the corner. I studied the backsplash tile for the rest of the…morning? I was checked shortly after getting into the tub. 36 hours into labor, and I was a whopping 3 centimeters dilated. The baby was so low, which I suppose was why I felt like pushing so much. Janelle also mentioned that it felt like my cervix was hardened with scar tissue – possibly from the surgery I had for endometriosis.
Janelle tried to stretch out the scar tissue during the next contraction. That was about as fun as it sounds. The baby’s heartbeat was still going strong, so I powered on, too. Jon stood beside the tub holding my hand. He gave me a fresh cold cloth during the insanely-ridiculous-I’M-GOING-TO-DIE hot flashes. At one point Jon decided he had to go poop. I wouldn’t let him leave.
When I was pregnant, I practiced breathing, and meditating and envisioning myself laboring peacefully in a tub, in the dark, with essential oils and meditations playing. I really thought I could just breath through the contractions, and zone out. Well, the tub, and dim lighting was all nice, and I tried to breathe as best I could – but there were no amount essential oils that could have tamed the little beast that I was becoming. I didn’t care about the temperature of the water, or the lighting, or the music, or the aroma, or the fleshy chunks floating around in the tub with me – just survive the next moment.
I was checked again – 3.5 centimetres. It was about 6:00am and we decided to try breaking my waters. Everything became more intense. There was no “in-between” contractions. They just went on and on and on. I had just pulled my second all-nighter in a row, and I was exhausted.
I had been shaking all night long and was starting to “sleep” when a contraction eased off for a breif moment. The midwife said she could try stretching the scar tissue again during the next three contractions (NOPE!), or we could go to the hospital, get an epidural and some rest, or continue waiting. Jon looked so tired and scared. I really thought I might die, and was doubting my strength to push a baby out with the least sleep I’ve ever had in my life.
After much hesitation, I decided to go to the hospital. Janelle called ahead and arranged a room for us. It was brutal getting there. It felt so impossible, but somehow, I got in the car. When we got to the hospital, Jon went to find a wheel chair. He returned without a wheel chair, because it required a loonie to take out, and we didn’t have any change. So, we walked up to the labor ward, stopping every few seconds so I could burry my face into Jon’s stomach, and hold my crotch. I think I traumatized the lady stuck in the elevator with us.
The labor ward is not easy to find. It’s a maze to get there, but we made it and went straight to our room. I perched my butt on the edge of the bed, and didn’t move. The nurses suggested I try laying down, or walk around, or sit back further on the bed.
I was not moving. They brought me some gas, but it was hard enough to breathe regular air. I wasn’t interested in trying to breathe some other kind of air.
Even though Janelle was not able to remain our primary care giver, she came along for support and guidance. I felt really lucky to have such great care all throughout labor and delivery. The doctor and delivery nurses were amazing. I, however was a pathetic grump…until the magical anesthesiologists came to the rescue. It was about 10:00am…42 hours into labor. It was hard to stay still while I was getting the epidural, but otherwise it’s a very easy procedure.
Then the pain dissolved and I became a nice human again. The next best thing from not feeling like you’re going to depart earth, is not having to pee for the first time in months!! That catheter was a dream! I just laid there on my bed, enjoying the sight of the contraction monitor telling me I was still working hard.
Janelle asked if it was alright if she went home to shower, eat, and then come back. We were totally happy with that. We were left alone to relax and get some rest. The baby’s heart monitor went off once and a nurse came in to have me turn on my side. The doctor also came in and “tickled” the baby’s head. We were all visiting and joking around while this was happening. Yep, it was awkward.
The baby’s heart rate perked up and continued to stay strong. While we were relaxing, Jon was great about telling the delivery team some of the things we hoped for. Such as delayed cord clamping and taking the placenta home.
The Birth
A few hours later, a nurse came in to check me. NINE CENTIMETERS! NINE! We sent our midwife a text with the update. She was on her way back. The doctor was told I would be ready soon, and the room was prepared. When the doctor came in, a nurse lifted up the sheet and said, “Oh, the baby’s right there.”
What?!
The midwife explained to me how I would be instructed to push. I was rested, happy, excited, and ready. We also learned that the baby had been head down, but sunny side up (facing up instead of down), which explains why my body was contracting so hard for so long. The epidural allowed me to relax and dilate, which allowed the baby to turn.
At about 4:00pm, I was told I could push when the next contraction started. I pushed as hard as I could, three times during each contraction. Our doctor was fantastic at guiding the baby’s head. I couldn’t feel a thing. Just some painless pressure. It was so fun! The energy in the room was amazing, exactly as I imagined. I was being cheered on by everyone. I could feel and see spirit there, buzzing with energy for the big event.
Then at 4:18pm on Tuesday, September 26, 2017, 48 hours in, our perfect baby BOY was born! He came straight to my chest and stayed there for the rest of the night.
We named him Wren William Alexander. He weighed 8 pounds, 11 ounces, and measured 22 inches long! He was way bigger than anyone expected.
Postpartum
I received one small stitch for a minor tear, and we took our baby home as soon as I was able to walk again.
My parents were waiting for us at our house. They were taking care of our dogs, cleaning up after the countertop installation, and dealing with a minor flood that occurred a few minutes before we arrived. A plummer came an hour later to put our new kitchen sink in.
Our postpartum experience was amazing. Wren knew exactly how to nurse, and was a sweet, calm, snuggly, perfect baby. He still is!
My feelings about the birth are positive. I envisioned the baby being born in a peaceful environment, and that’s exactly what happened. We were never separated. He came right to my chest and basically stayed there for the next three months. I never wanted to put him down!
This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life! I would do it all again. I get it now.
Wren’s first wedding (4 days old)
Love From Mom
September 17, 2021:
Happy 4th Birthday, Wren. You are a gift. I love you so much.