Delivery Room Dispatch III: The Final Chapter

A child’s birth in our family just would not be the same without a Delivery Room Dispatch. This time it is volume three or as Lisa would no doubt attest, the last chapter of the delivery room series.
For reasons that will become plainly evident later on, this missive will not be as long as its predecessors, but I promise to keep you all updated with new developments and photos. (That promise may seem like a hollow gesture considering my tardy blogging during the pregnancy, but trust me when I say, we’ve been busy.)

So the quick facts so I’m not accused of burying the lead:Name: Madeleine (middle name pending) McHardie
DOB: March 29, 2009
Time: 7:04 p.m.
Weight: 8 lbs
Height/length: TBD
Hair: More than grandpapa

When it comes to a third child, you and your spouse have a Zen-like ability to keep calm as you waltz into the hospital and welcome yourself into the labour and delivery wing, almost as if you’d never left. And trust me, on days it seems like we hadn’t. That was the case on Sunday afternoon as we entered the hospital, thinking Lisa’s water had broke, but weren’t 100 per cent sure.

Undaunted, we got into our traditional positions: Lisa strapped to a series of machines and that uber-fashionable blue shirt and me seated on a chair that likely would not be cleared for use by the hospital’s ergonomics team.

We were also greeted by a cacophony of baby cries and, well, other loud noises that don’t need to be described. Say what you will about New Brunswick’s declining population, but the hospital was all about population growth on Sunday. Before long it was all confirmed, the water had indeed broken, allowing us to settle in for the long haul.

The first few hours are as relaxing as they get as we see if nature is going to kick in and deliver the baby. It is also always amusing because we know it isn’t going to work. We end up speculating when the time for inducement will finally arrive.

So at 3:30 when Stacy from Dalhousie hooked Lisa up to the Oxytocin bag, we were again gripped by that wonderful confluence of excitement, anticipation, hope and anxiety. (Speaking of gripping, note to future fathers, offer two fingers to your wife to grab, apparently they can’t be broken.)

For faithful for followers of these dispatches, you’ll remember how the anaestheologist arrived just as Isabella was born. We tried to avoid a similar occurrence so we attempted to book an epidural as soon as we knew the baby was on her way. Apparently, things just don’t work like that in Fredericton.

As the contractions continued to escalate, I found myself fixated on the monitor that recorded the strength of the contractions. This monitor gives a digital number representing the strength of a contraction and a print out. This monitor is like the crack cocaine of child birth. It is that addictive. It is roughly the equivalent of overnight tracking polls in an election. They are meaningless in the big picture, but they drive your mood and frame of mind from minute to minute. Finally, I was moved onto the other side of the bed where I could not see the monitor as easily. Outsmarted yet again.

At about 6:30 p.m., still no epidural and the contractions were getting more intense. I leaned over, wiped some hair out of Lisa’s eye and offered her my hearty congrats at a wonderful job. Stacy leaned in and said what she’d gone through with no drugs is like having your left leg chopped off. When Emmanuelle was being delivered, the nurse told Lisa it was equivalent to running a marathon. That analogy I could appreciate, this latest one only left me massaging my leg.

By 7:04, little Madeleine decided to join us. She was covered in all that wonderful baby goo and a full head of hair. I can think of an army of men who would be envious to have her hair right now. Within an hour, she was meeting her big sisters for the first time, who both instantly fell in love with their little sister. Isabella loved her some much that she refused to leave the delivery room, which made for a bit of a scene.

Madeleine has been feeding well, but as for sleeping, she tends to take her cue from her sisters and avoid it.

After kissing the girls for a final time, I went to run a quick errand at the bank and was driving home. It wasn’t raining out but the roads were shimmering. I was also driving Roy’s car, so I was driving a bit slower as his car is so much lower than our van. I was coming up to the intersection of Regent and Prospect. I saw a green light and I remember looking straight ahead when something startled me to the left. A car was running the red light. I yanked the wheel as hard as I could, slammed on the brakes. I managed to turn the car enough that the other individual hit the front driver’s side but closer to the tire. I won’t type the next few sentences that came out of my mouth. Within 25 minutes, I was back at the hospital. This time for an experience that was hardly enjoyable. Nine hours in an ER waiting room, battling a pounding headache and strained back/neck/shoulder muscles.

I’m back at home now, about to jump in the shower and head back to the hospital.

The first teddy bear

Now that we have the nursery essentially completed with the new paint, crib and other accessories, we now have our first teddy bear for the new baby. We're still a few days away from baby's big arrival, but CBCNews.ca has made its presence with a soft bunny rabbit.
For those who haven't yet seen the nursery, the two different pinks are thanks to Roy's wonderful painting and the brown design came from Lisa's endless painting skill.