Maija Puddle.com

Saturday morning I woke up excited for the day. Jonathan and I had planned a relaxing day together; we knew it would be the last Saturday alone for the two of us (cause even if baby didn’t come, family were on their way). I woke with a start at 10am feeling like I was leaking, and ran to the toilet. About ¼ of a cup of ‘water’ came out, which wasn’t enough to convince me that my water had really broken. Instead I worried that I was leaking amniotic fluid, so I crawled back into bed and asked Jonathan to pray that the baby would come soon, as I feared it would run out of fluid. Then I told him the amusing dream I had all night, where I’d been in labour all night but the contractions weren’t very strong. In my dream, I kept picturing a row of lights lighting up signaling the strength of the contractions. Bing…bing… bing… 3 out of the 4 lights had been illuminated. We laughed and put it down to subconscious wishful thinking.

As I lay there, chatting with Jonathan I felt a strange pain go through my body. Thinking I was just hungry I got up and make some breakfast, it was around 10:20am after all, and I’m a starving pregnant lady. So we ate together and during our breakfast I experienced two more of these new types of pain, so I told Jonathan I thought I was having contractions, but couldn’t be sure.
He replied,  “Oh. Well, it’s too early for me to be up, is it ok if I go back to bed for awhile?”
“Sure, I’ll join you then,” I told him. At least he asked. Again though I felt two more pains, evenly spaced out, so I knew I couldn’t stay in bed.
I got up and went to do some dishes, while timing what I thought might possibly be contractions. They were happening every 10 minutes, no, every 9 minutes, no, maybe 7 minutes.
I thought, “Ok, so maybe it’s not really labour, since whatever these pains are, they aren’t exactly evenly spaced out.” But they did keep coming, so I was getting a bit confused. At 11:20am I told Jonathan to get out of bed, and that I might be having contractions, so I need an activity to occupy me. They say labour for the first child lasts 20 hours +/- 5 hours, so I figured if this is it we need to start doing things to keep my mind off the discomfort. We had decided the day before to bake chocolate chip cookies, and this seemed a splendid idea! Yum, yum. However, by the time we actually started making the dough it was 11:40am, and I soon realized I wouldn’t be able to help at all, as my contractions were starting to be quite painful. Jonathan asked how he could help me; I was quite frustrated so I demanded he make the cookies alone! I want cookies!  I tried to busy myself, while he continued. The contractions kept coming though, to the point where I thought they were 5 minutes apart already. Surely I couldn’t have progressed that fast in an hour, could it? I was still convinced this was false labour, as it wasn’t following anything we’d been told to expect (by our mothers and by medical professionals). I figured the contractions would subside soon enough but that I’d continue getting myself ready for the hospital just in case. I began pacing back and forth, leaning on Jonathan’s office chair pushing it up and down the hall whimpering, “This doesn’t make sense, they feel 5 minutes apart! This is weird.”

At 12:20pm (just 2 hours since I woke up) I had to tell Jonathan that he needed to stop making me cookies (he’s rather slow) and give me some help!!! The pain was overwhelming by this point and I was getting quite scared. Is something wrong with me? I could no longer stand through a contraction, but I wanted to have a shower if indeed we were going to the hospital. Jonathan had to hold me up in the shower, where I had two more contractions. Jonathan suggested we call a friend, to see if their car was available… I meekly suggested it was a good idea.
About 30 seconds later I yelled, “We need to go to the hospital NOW!” The next contraction began and I started throwing up all over the bathroom floor. Jonathan quickly called a cab. Somehow I got dressed, while enduring two more contractions, as Jonathan ran around the house going through my list to gather last minute items for the hospital. And that’s how we left our house; cookie dough on the counter, vomit on the bathroom floor, and clothes all over the place; a pure mess.

I don’t know what the cab driver was thinking, but he quickly figured out what was going on from my whimpering, tears, my just-in-case vomit bag and my contractions. It’s not much fun having contractions when you are under a seat belt! The 5km felt like forever, and I realized that if we’d called the taxi only 10 minutes later, I wouldn’t have been able to leave the house unless there was an ambulance.  The contractions in the taxi were so intense and I was sweating profusely under my winter coat, so started to black out.

Thankfully we arrived before I fainted, and I had two more contractions before actually entering the birthing unit. I was going insane by this point; I had no idea what to do. I told Jonathan I was sorry but if this was the pain I’d be in for the next 12 hours, I was going to get an epidural for sure. (Hahaha… that was me in labour denial, still thinking we had half a day to go, and not a mere hour and 15 minutes left to go!) A nurse quickly took us in, and asked us which pregnancy this was. When we said it was our first, she visibly relaxed; I know she was thinking “Ok lady… this is gonna take some time.” She took us into be prepped, and tried to help me get out of my clothes and into the hospital clothes. I’m not exactly an exhibitionist, but I’ve never had a stronger desire to be naked in all my life. I ripped and flailed until my need for nudity was satisfied. Then she checked to see if I was dilated at all; her eyes grew wide and she announced that I was dilated 8 cm! I’m not sure which was more satisfying, the confirmation of labour, or the reaction on her face. She asked again when I’d started having contractions, and Jonathan answered as I couldn’t talk any more.
“Around 10am,” he said.

She quickly moved us to a delivery room and a midwife came in to prep me. At this point I was in some of worst pain I’d ever felt. I kept telling Jonathan that I couldn’t take 12 more hours of this. So there I screamed, cried, squeezed Jonathan’s hand and flailed my feet. He says I was actually quite composed between contractions, but I can’t remember anything at all. A midwife put a couple of baby heart monitors on, but they kept moving out of place during my flailing which would cause the alarm to go off, as the monitor wasn’t picking up the baby’s heart beat anymore. We were left alone for a while, Jonathan tells me, and when the midwife returned she checked, almost casually, how dilated I was now. Her eyes also grew wide, and she announced I could start pushing “if I wanted”. (I was still so surprised… and it was at this point I realized maybe the baby would be born before 12 hours…) But then the midwife left the room, and I started freaking out. “I don’t know how to push,” I thought.

I didn’t have to think about that for long, as the next contraction was so crazy intense it took over my whole body, and pushed the baby for me. I lost contact with the outside world at this point, and just closed my eyes. I could hear everyone talking but was unable to communicate, and just concentrated on the task at hand.
I started telling Jonathan, “Awhh… I’m gonna poo… I’m gonna poo… I can’t help it I’m so sorry.” (Hahaha… yes, I mistook the baby bearing down, for a giant poo.) Finally our assigned midwife came in and introduced herself. I couldn’t tell, but Jonathan said she was awesome; in her mid sixties, grey haired, with a metric tonne of thick brown dread-like hair extensions. She also spoke good English, which helped. She went to check my dilation again and announced that she could already see the baby’s head. She encouraged me to just push slowly, and to breathe. I couldn’t really breath at all during the contractions, but I tried very hard because she kept telling me that the baby needs oxygen, which scarred me. How did I lose this most basic of skills, I was thinking. She kept saying push slower and I yelled that I couldn’t help it. It was such a surreal feeling, the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life, but knowing I was now minutes away from finally meeting my baby… but still in so much pain. After pushing with the next four contractions she announced that the next contraction would get baby out. This was the best news I could hear, as there was no way I could take much longer of this… and Jonathan’s attempts to placate me with “You’re doing good, it’s almost done,” I interpreted to be lies. She told me to do a little push with the contraction, but I wanted to make sure it was the last push, so I may have pushed a bit harder than I was supposed to. It felt like the whole baby almost flew out, and I heard a cry within the second of the birth. Jonathan, with laughter and tears in his eyes announced that we had a baby boy! And I just laid down and closed my eyes and smiled. My energy was instantly gone.

The next events are a total blur, but the midwife apologized that she needed to make one small stitch, without anesthesia as it was a difficult spot, almost not worth switching. After what I’d just been through nothing hurt at all. They delivered the placenta with little help from me as I just lay there holding my boy against my chest with my eyes closed. I was poked and prodded some more but hardly noticed anything. Jonathan managed to get enough conversation out of me to agree to a name, as we still hadn’t fully agreed yet. I still couldn’t believe our little James Eden was born at 2:26pm, after me just realizing I was actually in labour for sure, at 12:30pm. I probably pushed for a total of 20 minutes! And little James, so cute. It was such a surreal experience, I just closed my eyes and soaked it in, trying to recover and start enjoying our little one.

Determined to redeem myself and show our midwife I was actually a “normal” person, I tried to maintain a bit of conversation about our baby. I smiled thinking to myself of how I’d always imagined arriving at the hospital, shaking hands with the nurses, introducing ourselves, discussing our birth plan/ wishes, using some of the different pain relieving equipment like the Yoga balls, etc. But I really can’t complain that we had a short delivery, even though a quick descent down the birth canal theoretically means a more painful one; I liked this short and sweet way. We stayed in the delivery room for another 4 hours, recovering, relaxing, and calling family and friends. Which is funny because we only spent an hour in there prior to birth. I’m told the time spent is usually the other way around.

James, you really wanted to make into this world, I hope it was because you were so excited to meet us. Even though I didn’t get to follow my plan:
- had to leave the house in such chaos,
- losing all my dignity and my ability to be civil and shake hands,
- no time to call family and friends before hand to tell them we were going into labour, just surprise them afterwards
We love that our little boy is so full of surprises for us; we anticipate many more joyous events.

Jonathan did finish baking the cookies. They taste great! But I’ll include a photo of James as opposed to the cookies.

James Eden Puddle
Born January 24th, 2009 at 2:26pm.
Weighing in at 2.9 kg (6.3 lbs)

I’m 37 weeks pregnant so the baby can arrive at any time now. Which is so crazy to think since I’m such a planner and I have the next few weeks covered with activities and errands and chores that need to be done BEFORE our baby arrives. Its funny, of course I need to plan but yet be open to the baby arriving at any time.  Our little bundle (or “superbaby” as the nickname given at a surprise baby shower Sunday) will decide when its good and ready to show its head

There’s still many things to prepare, purchase and do. I feel like I can’t get everything done in my slow turtle pregnant body pace but I’m sure gonna try. Know I have to space the tasks out but trying to fit in doing late pregnancy exercises daily since its supposed to  make labour easier.  I’m not a fan of pain so keeping exercises on my daily to-do list.

Catching myself saying things that I’d never thought I’d hear myself say:

“Is my tummy too small … should it be bigger?”

“Can you just buy two vanilla icecreams since I go thru one in a day?”

“I’m stuck … I can’t get up.”

“What’s my phone number again, I can’t remember?”

Starting to feel so big and uncomfortable…SO I’m starting the official countdown… about 5 more weeks to meet our little Puddle. Oh baby I love you! Baby seems to be growing really fast now, I’m gaining weight very rapidly. A friend who’s seen me a couple days in a row commented that I seem like I’ve grown over the last three days. No doubt, feeling a bit bigger everyday. You should see me bumping into things now on a daily basis, every time I get used to my new parameters they change! So confusing. Squeezing past obstacles making room for the expanding tummy but forgetting how big I am until *bang* awww! haha… I look like a new driver. I pride myself on my driving but now I can’t even walk like a pro. Oh humility!

This Christmas was so special for us as we countdown towards our new arrival, our belated Christmas gift. Even though both of us are oceans apart from our immediate family we were able to join my second cousins’ family for festivities, and what a blessing it was to be around family! We celebrated Finnish style with joulu sauna, and I got to cheer Jonathan on from the sidelines as he dipped himself through the ice to cool off. Of course I couldn’t go in, the baby told me it was not interested in being cooled off.

Its been so nice to be around extended family and friends this holiday. We are now visiting a city just south of our hometown, and catching up with friends. We feel so rich and refreshed surrounded by love and friendship.

Lately I’ve been feeling more and more pregnant if that’s possible. I know you either are or aren’t, but I’ve been experiencing pregnancy in my brain and not just the visible ever expanding areas. I know its normal but it certainly does feel funny. I keep bumping into furniture totally misgauging my own body’s parameters.  Jonathan describes it as when you get a new car and it takes a few days to learn the car’s parameters and do a perfect parallel park.  Well I’m getting used to new parameters almost weekly now. I finally stopped jabbing my side on Jonathan’s desk every time I roll out of bed. (He moved his office into our bedroom to make room for the baby in old office.)

But the part that feels the strangest is the complete obliviousness to the passage of time. I think pregnant women should be warned about the time warp you step into during the third trimester.  I have completely lost the ability to tell how much time passes and gauge how much time it takes to preform tasks.  I’m moving slower now, but I don’t feel as if I am. I realized this when I set out to put socks on the other morning, and it took 30 minutes. Told a friend I’d be over in 20 minutes, arrived an hour and 40 minutes feeling like only 20 minutes had passed.  Fall asleep for a 10 minute nap and I blow through two hours.  But the scary thing is it feels like 10 minutes, can’t tell the difference at all. So I’ve resorted to wearing a watch.

Amused myself this week by beginning to decorate the baby room. Looking forward to next month when we’ll start buying furniture. Oh lala…

Can you guess what movie I just watched?   …………… Kung Fu Panda

Eventful week, so this weekend is quite the welcome break.  Been nice to start having regular visits from friends who are in town for Christmas.  I’m no longer walking any significant distances, recently decided after falling  twice on the slippery snow/ice. But don’t worry the baby didn’t break the fall my trusty padded BUTT and HANDS did.  Didn’t realize I was so exhausted until I literally couldn’t keep my eyes for an hour straight today (I even had to take a break half way thru the movie.)

This week we toured the hospital’s birthing unit where our baby will be born. I tried my best not be traumatized or act traumatized as I stared at all the medical equipment and wondered out loud their uses. Jonathan had to keep squeezing my hand every once in awhile, so maybe my emotions were not quite hidden very well. Big surprise… that’s the pregnant me these days, every emotion written across my face.

I did like the big colourful exercise balls though. The midwife giving us the tour and briefing was very nice and cheery. The hospital delivery unit is pretty small so they don’t expect you to come in until you’re an hour or two away from delivery. And HOW am I supposed to know that, I asked. Apparently I’ll just know, and its some instinct that’s inside me somewhere. So let’s see if it surfaces.  But I did leave the hospital feeling slightly more at ease, ready and relieved, so now if i can just find some online birthing classes/videos to watch since there aren’t any around here.  If anyone has any suggestions, I’m all ears.

Doing well. Getting used to this last trimester of pregnancy. Leg cramps if I accidentally sleep on my back, needing 2-3 hour naps in the middle of the day and naps if I do ANY whatsoever exercise, eating early hours in the morning (again!), and sleeping a larger percentage of the day than I’m awake.

Yesterday we met probably the first impatient Finn I’ve encountered since moving here, or at least one who let their emotion show.  We got honked at while crossing the street in town, because we were too slow. I had just walked about 2 km and was waddling my way across an intersection, tired, achy and trying not to slip on the ice.  So this individual driver decided we were walking too slow for his liking and want us to get a move on it so he  laid his hand upon his horn.  He chose the wrong person to mess with that morning. I felt my blood begin to boil as I was ready to let myself explode, and yell “I’M SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT, SORRY I’M NOT WALKING FAST ENOUGH!” AHHHHH!!!! (in Finnish of course.)

But luckily in time I noticed the driver’s window was closed so he wouldn’t have heard anything. Boo… I wish Finns were a bit more confrontational and he’d opened his window to call out giving me at least a chance to give a polite response. hfmph. Guess I’m starting to notice that maybe all these pregancy hormones are effecting me slightly.

On a funnier note, I woke up from a bad dream this week feeling like someone in the room just shook up stomach trying to wake me. I sat up in the dark and looked around the room. Jonathan was sound alseep beside me, I poked him just to make sure he wasn’t faking. Who touched me or more like karate chopped in the stomach…? Probably a more rational person, or someone who didn’t just wake up from a bad dream, wouldn’t have started imaging goblins ready to pounce from the shadows. AND that’s when I felt it again, the baby give me one good karate kick in the centre of my stomach Hahahaha… I threw myself down into the bed laughing. Geez baby you scaried me! Such a playful baby, loving the baby before even meeting him/her.

1.  The excuse to eat as much as I want.

2.  Dinner choices become my choice almost everyday.

3.  The luxurious excuse of getting to sleep in late and take naps.

4.  Breakfast in bed.

5.  Daily back massages.

6.  Wearing comfy clothes EVERYDAY.

7.  Someone else – Jonathan does up the laces and buckles on my winter boots.

8.  Don’t have to carry anything (or at least not heavy things.)

9.  Haven’t vacuumed once yet.

10.  and OF COURSE having our wee little one with me all day, every day!  Each day I feel like I get front row seats to watch the baby dance out its excercises and respond to my cheering.  Jonathan join us too so don’t worry he doesn’t feel too left out.

Intro to Puddle Video Blogging

Looks like I’m not alone in my latest frustration. I’ve decided to write out my complaints to get them out of my system so to speak. (Don’t want to bottle up frustrations and harbor negative energies that the baby can pick up on.)

So here it is AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Ok just had to get that out. It looks like I’m not the only one though, try googling “Canada Post sucks” and you’ll see what I mean. So I moved away from the homeland a little over a year ago and since then have been sending letters and packages back to Canada regularly from Finland.

I’ve discovered that its such a hit or miss postal service. I mean sometimes the letters/packages get there under 4 days! And this week my letter arrived within 2.5 days of sending it! But the CRAZY thing is that I mailed a package and a letter to the same person 2.5 weeks ago that still hasn’t arrived!!!! So yes the birthday cards are late, and yes I’m working on my some Christmas cards now to make sure they actually get to Canada by Christmas. In July I sent a package to a friend in Toronto and she received it mid-October! So really it seems that the service Canada Post provides is ALL over the place and reliably consistent what-so-ever.  But the problem looks to be also within Canada and sending packages out; last Christmas my sister send me a Christmas present that arrived mid-February.

But I’m not really allowed to complain about Canada Post to one of my sisters, who tells me “I’ve got nothing”. She almost ended up with a criminal record for the package she sent. Apparently someone at Canada Post thought it would be an amazing prank to open her police check application, insert some porn and send it on to the station.

Well all I’m thinking is if my family and I have had all these experiences of the Canada Post’s lacking services then I’m pretty darn sure we aren’t the only ones, as I know my luck doesn’t suck that much.  Its not like I can stop sending packages, but maybe actually….. and start sending money and e-cards? hmmmm… that might be the my solution. Don’t think anyone will complain, who doesn’t like receiving money?