Birth Story: Part I

So, we've known for a couple weeks that this day was coming but decided to for the most part keep it to ourselves. I mean, after numerous complications and an abundance of out reach (which is great, don't get me wrong) it was easier to stay quiet and not have a thousand people in our ear, social media updates, and cell phone inbox asking questions, telling what to do or my personal favourite - clocking us leading up to "the day". But surprise. It's here! (And not the original one that's since been scribbled out, making my August 31st page look ugly). DELIVERY DAY!

Completely unplanned but entirely scheduled. It's been marked on our calendars in capital letters: "INDUCTION DAY," for some time now and despite me wishing it away, accompanied by a breakdown every few days about it (that's a whole other story to follow), it's arrived. Today we get promoted to what I'm sure is the absolute messiest, most stressful, every bit time consuming, but hands down best job in the world. Parents. We are thrilled. Excited. Slightly anxious about the process in between and if you're my husband, openly unenthusiastic about seeing the process that "looks torturous" or the chance of witnessing a caesarian section, but nonetheless - blessed beyond belief.

Let me start off by saying, I've loved being pregnant and aside from this last stretch, it's been such an experience. First trimester tiredness? No problem. Awkward phase of "is she fat or pregnant," didn't bug me. Everyone being know it alls about pregnancy, the lovely weight gain, growing belly or giving up the every day sporting of high heels - I'd do it again. I felt great. I had energy. I was empowered by my role. My hair and nails were growing like it was nobody's business. (Woot woot)

And then one day my odds turned. I came home from a regular ol' prenatal appointment, frantically calling my husband on the phone and melting down about how we were "loosing the baby." (Obviously we weren't but, all the signs were there!) Forward ahead a stressful day and into the evening and we find out that it's not a miscarriage but preterm labor. Phfew! Pick the better of the evils. I can handle this I thought! Until the seemingly endless cervix exams, dilation checks, unpleasant steroid injections, among other shots and numerous blood tests, every day visits to the hospital, prescribed bed-rest, and eventually the thrill of being admitted into antenatal for what's even better than bed-rest (if you can imagine)...supervised bed-rest! Because who doesn't like to relive the toddler years all over again?

Well, fast forward another month when we were released, sent home to continue bed rest from our own familiar space and prepare whatever else may have needed done before it would be time for them to deliver us. While most women are eager to be done with pregnancy, we were happily making it through each day considering the status of "still being pregnant" as a success (until the week leading up to our date when I felt nothing less than panicked, wanting to have spontaneous labor instead!) Clothes were pre-washed if needed, blankets folded, toys set out, bassinet perfectly set up, shelves of infant care supplies stocked, and hospital bags packed. Ready for the 10th's arrival.

Life is never and will never, be the same as it is in any given moment. We know this. But it's never rung so true as now. Everything that we've wished on, prayed for, hoped of - is here. It's arrived. Monday, August the 10th. And I leave you with this prewritten, prescheduled post to welcome the long awaited puzzle piece of our little family.

Thank you in advanced for the well wishes and support, not just today but also for those that have flooded our hearts for many of the past months.

Until part two!
XO, Olivia Murray.