One Year Ago Today..

One year ago today, on a warmer April day than this, your father & I found out about your existence.

In November of 2010, we lost a pregnancy. This loss left us feeling crushed, empty, and wondering why. Although we were still so young, and the pregnancy had not been planned, we had been excited to become parents, and start the next chapter of our love story together.

I took the pregnancy test in my work bathroom on my lunch break. Clearly, patience was a virtue your mother lacked. When that little stick showed a little pink positive, I could hardly believe it. I told myself to calm down, and snuck out to Shoppers to buy another one. I wanted to be absolutely certain before I allowed my heart to believe it.

When I took that second test, I felt such an overwhelming feeling of happiness. I stayed in the bathroom a few minutes and danced around that tiny little stall, and relished in the idea of telling your father. I also thought about the how. How I would do it, how I could make it memorable for both of us, without having to do much planning. Your mother is no good at surprises, (comes down to a lack of patience again) so I knew I had to figure out a way to tell him that night, and had no time to make an elaborate plan.

I went back to my desk, but no work was done that day. Instead, I snuck out to the mall once AGAIN (geesh, I sure hope no one from work reads this) to purchase a card. There were no cards specially made for an occassion such as this, but I did manage to find one, covered in glitter with a stork that read “Special Delivery”. The card which now holds a special place in your baby book.

I wrote a simple message on the inside, saying “And our love story continues – WE ARE PREGNANT! Congratulations, Daddy”, put it in my purse, and watched the clock tick for the remaining hours of my work day. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It felt as though time was standing still.

When I was finally home, I paced waiting for the return of your father. When that time came, I barely allowed him the novelty of washing his hands before telling him to sit on the couch. Then, I gave him the card. And then, your father cried. Your father cried tears of happiness, and hugged me so tight like he never wanted to let go.

And he didn’t, not through that whole 9 months of anticipation, not for these 4 and a half months that have followed, and I know he will continue to hold onto me, and now onto you, our little girl, for the rest of our lives.

You are the greatest gift we could have ever asked for. What we could have never have anticipated, McKenna, is just how perfectly beautiful you are. You were so very wanted. You will always be wanted. You will always have a mother and a father who love you and dreamt of your existence long before you were ours. But now that you are, trust me…. we will never, ever, ever let you go. 

A Love Story.. Part 2

When I arrived in Labour and Delivery, the only thing I can remember was the lights. They were so bright. I wanted so badly for them to be dimmed or turned off, but the contractions were coming so fast, and hurt so bad, I couldn’t even form the words. It was at this point I asked for an epidural – something I had not planned for.

My reasons for not wanting to get an epidural were many – but the main most sensible reason in my particular situation is that I have scoliosis. It has been said that sometimes the epidural does not work for women with scoliosis, and that even if it does, it can cause more pain in the long-term than for what it is worth.

But at this point, it was all I could do to keep from screaming. So I had my epidural, and much to my dismay and horror, it only took on one side. I was completely numb from the waist down on my right side, and could feel absolutely every sensation on my left. The nurse ordered for my epidural to have not one, but TWO topoffs, but no matter what they did, it just would not take on the left side. I want to say I have no regrets about your birth story, but unfortunately, I do regret getting the medication. Had it worked, I would have no regrets, but I feel as it caused me more pain than gain. Regardless, this story has the happiest of endings, and that my dear, is all that matters.

The next part is a complete blur – I remember writhing in pain, and feeling the need to push come on so suddenly, so strong. The nurse checked me again and to her absolute surprise I was 9 cm. Your father says I was only upstairs for an hour or so. And this is where it gets REALLY amazing! From the time I began to push, to the time you were born, was only 25 MINUTES. You were ready McKenna, you were so ready to be here.

I remember hearing “look down at your beautiful baby girl!” and then the emotions – oh the emotions – I felt. I was hysterically crying – from relief, from happiness, from love. From the feeling of disbelief that we had done it – that you were here, that you were healthy, that you were ours – 5 pounds 15 ounces, perfectly healthy, and absolutely beautiful. You were placed on my chest, and I just remember at that moment feeling so complete. Like I had been waiting for this moment not just for the past 9 months, but for my entire life.

I passed you to your father, so he could meet his perfect daughter. The child he had dreamt of his whole adult life. Your father says you were so quiet. So quiet but so alert. He cut the cord, and then held you gently for the first time, a feeling of such love in his eyes. We enjoyed some moments quietly as a new threesome, and then you were introduced to your Aunties who were waiting so impatiently in the next room. The feeling of love in that room is something I will never forget. I have never thought I could feel such emotions all at once. But you McKenna… in your 4 months of life thus far you have introduced me to many things I never thought were possible. You have taken my relationship with your father to a new level, a level of such mutual respect and such unbelievable admiration for each other. I never thought I could feel for somebody the way I feel for the two of you. We are a perfect little family, and together the three of us can conquer anything.

You are our greatest accomplishment, our love story and our true love.. our McKenna. Always and forever.

I’d like to say a HUGE thank you to my sister Helen, for taking these pictures! We will cherish them forever!

A Love Story.. Part 1

Truth be told, this post has been prepared and saved in my Drafts folder since early last month. It was one of the first I prepared when I started writing here regularly, since McKenna’s birth. I can’t quite tell you what it is that has had me holding out on sharing it for so long – I always knew I wanted a written account of my feelings from this day. I think in some ways I was coveting it for myself, as a private recollection of thoughts, as if that day wasn’t truly so far away, but moreso something that just happened yesterday. Because with all of the pain I felt that day, the most tremendous emotion I felt was an outpouring of love, a feeling that is so absolutely indescribable it’s hard for me to put it into words. But I will do my best.

On December 1, 2012, at 4:04 in the morning, you were placed on my chest, and life as your father and I knew it, changed forever in a split second. The story of how you came to be in this world is not one of roses and unicorns. It is not the picture perfect birthing story that you hear about in movies. It is in fact, the hardest thing I have ever done – but with the absolute greatest gift the universe could have ever blessed me with – you, my perfect, angelic, daughter. 

On November 29, 2012, I found myself in the middle of yet another sleepless night. This had become the norm so late in my pregnancy – I spent many a night clock watching, while sleep evaded me. Whether it was the constant heartburn, the effort it took to switch positions, or the anxiety and restlessness I felt awaiting your appearance – or undoubtedly a combination of the three – I was not sleeping well. But this night was different. All night long I kept feeling a tingly sensation in my leg, as if it was perpetually asleep. I spent the night pacing, shaking it off, and running cold and warm baths, whatever I could to regain some sort of feeling to no avail. Your father awoke at 5 in the morning as usual (he is such a hard worker) to find me on the couch, watching tv. He took one look at me and decided to call in for the day. I thanked him, and told him although I would have never of asked that of him, I thought it was a good idea.

At 9 AM on the dot, I called my doctor’s office and told them I was still having difficulties feeling my leg. He sent us straight to the hospital. Now, your father and I were not too sure what to expect, but I can tell you one thing – we did not expect to be told that you were going to be here much sooner than planned, but that is what happened. When I was finally seen by a nurse, she was shocked to find my blood pressure in the 200’s – almost eclamptic, meaning, I could seizure at any moment. The room turned into a bustle of activity, I was given beta blockers immediately, told to relax (are you KIDDING me?) and to prepare for the fact that I may be having a baby that day. Your father stayed by my side, held my hand, and reassured me that whatever happened, we would be okay.

Fast forward to an hour or so later, and my BP had dropped considerably. I was still hovering in the high range, but was now around 160 – MUCH better than how we started. It was decided between the doctor and the nurse that we would go home that night, with plans to attend at my regular doctor’s office first thing that morning. Your father and I went home that night, happy that you were still an image of perfect health and that, at least for now, my health was also under control. We both went to bed early that night, but not before checking to make sure our bags for the hospital were packed. 

When we awoke that morning, on November 30, 2012, we moved quietly around the house before leaving for the doctor’s. I was one of the first patients seen that day, and as usual, I gave my urine sample, and sat down to have my BP taken. It was still in the mid-high range, and now there was a new development – a high amount of protein was found in my sample. This gave our doctor enough reason to send us to the hospital, with the plans of an induction that day. He told your father & I as we nervously listened that I would be given a dose of Cervadil to try to start the process, a process that could take up to 2 doses within a 48 hour period to get started.

We left the office, nervous, hand in hand, and headed home to make final preparations. We made arrangements for your Nanny to take Shiloh for the night, to feed the cats, and called all the family to be on call for support as needed. I will always remember your father and how nervous he was. I went downstairs to see what he was up to and found him, so frazzled, trying to remove your car seat from the stroller. He was so nervous – a task such as this would normally take someone as smart as your father a mere minute to complete but we ended up needing to phone a friend for help because of the nerves. It was in that moment, the impossible happened – I fell in love with him even more. He was so excited to meet you McKenna.

I remember leaving the house that day so clearly. I cuddled all your fur sisters for a long while, and shed a tear or two saying goodbye to Shiloh. I knew we would be returning to our home as a threesome, and I was so nervously excited for that moment to come.

We arrived at the hospital around 12:30 and the induction process began at 1:30. Now all we had to do was sit and wait. Half an hour later your Auntie E showed up, to help pass the time. Your Nanny popped by to pay a visit and give your father and I some much-needed words of encouragement and to assure us Shiloh would be in great care.

Nothing much happened those next few hours, and we were moved from the induction unit down to another room to begin the waiting period. This is where my conception of time gets a little vague. I believe your Auntie Helen, who drove all the way from Turner Valley to meet you – a four-hour drive – arrived at the hospital around 8pm. At this point, I was feeling the contractions. I alternated between laying in bed and focusing on breathing, holding your father’s hand, and sitting in the shower. The pain REALLY kicked in around 10pm. I found myself losing control of my breathing, and crying from the contractions. At this point, it was SO HELPFUL to have three people – your father, your Auntie E, and your Auntie Helen all surrounding me with positive encouragement. I remember your Auntie E massaging my back while your Auntie Helen simultaneously massaged my feet. Now McKenna – I don’t think your father let go of my hand for longer than 5 minutes, and he never left the room. I remember the look of worry painted across his face. He said it was killing him to see me in so much pain. That he just couldn’t wait till this part was over and he had his girls safe and sound. That is the kind of person your father is – he loves us both, so strongly. We are both the luckiest girls alive, something you will grow to understand when you are older, and you come to realize how many awful men there are in the world.

Now at some point, a nurse came and checked my progress and to my dismay I was not very far along – maybe 2 cm. It was at this point I was offered and accepted morphine to help me sleep. The morphine helped me to relax for about an hour, but after that time elapsed, the pain came back – fast and furious. I remember your Auntie E getting the nurse to check me again, as she had been timing my contractions which were not very far apart. It seemed as though there was no relief from the pain. I can’t remember how long it took from the time I was checked last – and was 3 cm – to the time the nurses decided it was time to transfer me upstairs to Labour and Delivery. You were coming McKenna, faster than any of us ever imagined you would.

Part 2 next Friday.

Moments In Time

Another Friday, another week of memories with my beautiful McKenna.

Why is it that once we have children time seems to fast forward? I cannot believe in just a mere week she will be 4 months. When I was pregnant, I thought time was crawling so slowly, especially in that third trimester, in the anticipation of her arrival into this world.

Now that she is here, I find myself watching life as it races past, everyday filled with a collection of moments that I do not want to allow myself to forget.  I discovered very early on that motherhood comes with such a mix of emotions – a feeling of constant excitement for the next developmental milestone that is around the corner, and then a twang of remorse for that period of time that has passed which you will never get back. McKenna will soon be walking and talking, and that little spark of personality that she has already has will become so much larger. I have no doubt she will be one of those children who brings a smile to every person that she meets. But in the same breath, McKenna will never again be that tiny, 5 pound 15 ounce newborn, that came into our lives so suddenly, slept 20 hours a day and longed to be held by her mother or father, every single second.

When I was a child, I never gave thought to how fast time must have passed for my own mother. In fact, I can pretty much guarantee no child ever does consider this. We are all in such a rush to grow up. But now since becoming a mother, I am increasingly aware of how fragile time is. I never want to forget a single moment in time.. her first coo, her first smile, her first grasp, her first moments of distinct awareness.

In an effort to capture all of these moments, I have no less than 4 journals started, dedicated to all that is McKenna. It started nearly a year ago with my pregnancy journal, and has now been developed to include a baby book, a scrapbook, and this little online site. Sometimes I find myself recording memories more than once. One day I am sure, she, much like myself, will ask her mother to see these books, chronicling these precious moments in time, and I will be able to provide her with an assortment of books in which we collected as much information and details as we could. And one day, she may even want to take these memories from me and keep them for herself, to show her future children. This is where this duplication will come so in handy.

In yet another effort to record one of the most amazing experiences of my life, I will be using the next 2 Friday’s to recapture McKenna’s birth story, as I remember it, for our little family to look back on. The third Friday – April the 12th, will mark the one year anniversary of the day that I found out I was pregnant – another story I wish to share on this little blog space. Although no words can recapture the feelings, emotions, and love shared on those very precious days, I have to at least attempt to put those feelings into words, so that I can share them with McKenna one day. Her birth was the most amazing day of my human experience thus far, although now with McKenna by my side and in my life, I know that day will be surpassed by many others.

Motherhood is such a gift – a gift I relish, a gift I treasure. It is without a doubt the greatest journey that my life has ever taken me on. As I grow more confident in my mothering skills, and get to know this little person that I created out of love with the man who I love, I truly, truly believe I was made for this. That everything in my life, the good and the bad, brought me up to this series of moments which are passing so quickly I can hardly get a grasp on them. That is why I must record every moment as best as I can, for McKenna’s future, and for her father & I, so that we all never forget. Never forget these beautiful times, wherein a little girl was born, and with each passing day, changed our lives a little bit more for the better.

We love you McKenna, more than you will ever know.