Waiting on Lola

Life after infertility, waiting through pregnancy, and the experience of birth

My general emotional state throughout this pregnancy: happy and in love

The mark of infertility is something that follows you around regardless of the outcome, there is a gravity that is quite substantial which co-opts a portion of your mind permanently. All of a sudden a new function emerges in your way of thinking that is skewed with a new lens, a sort of weight that burdens many subsequent thoughts in your life, sometimes poisoning the well. As all parents will no doubt share you worry for the safety and health of your child from day one, and that starts in the womb. For couples who struggled with infertility there is an added burden of doubling that worry and fearing having to start from zero again. A battle so hard fought and finally won only to face a new battle, a dread of being reset and forced to relive the agony all over again. The weight of it all can be enough to crush many people and having lived through our own struggles with infertility I can see how one can easily become overwhelmed with fear and anxiety. Your mind tends to drift towards possible negative outcomes with relative ease, as if these realities are more likely thanks to your previous conditioning. I can’t help but feel that a part of this is a sort of self-preservation mechanism trying to prepare oneself for the worst in case it happens, but what a shame it is to waste what should be such a wonderful and momentous occasion.

We wasted no time getting the nursery ready, it helped make it more real for us

Thankfully I have Sophie in my life who was able to show me another way years before we even got here. I’ll always remember her penchant for conscious, and often verbal, acknowledgement of what we should be grateful for. To live in the moment, to deeply and fully appreciate each other and all the little things that the pace of life often forces us to overlook. She would regularly let me know about how a small gesture or thought that really touched her, what it meant to her. She would let me know how thankful she was to have me in her life. She would live and love a life of gratefulness and to my surprise this way of being is quite infectious. You start to recognize and mentally affirm all these minute, trivial things that compound into what can be called a wonderful and truly blessed life.

Sophie’s positive ways have been a fantastic influence in my life.

So after our bout with infertility came to an end with the life changing news of a child on the way the negativity and weight of infertility came head to head with Sophie’s infectious mindset and I am happy to say that in this fight positivity overcame negativity and what a difference that has made. What also contributed to this shift was the overwhelming response to our experience that we openly shared. We were saddened to learn how so many face the very difficult and emotionally draining situation of wanting children so badly and being unable to achieve what we spend most of our teenage years avoiding: having a baby. There is a lot of comfort in knowing that we are not alone and that so much love and kindness surrounds us.

Family was never far behind when we needed them and they were there often.

And while we overcame the weight and mark of infertility together and with the support of others, a part of it will forever sit heavy on our minds, it had put us in an incredibly vulnerable and emotional state of mind. The magnitude and deepest appreciation of learning that Sophie was finally pregnant was a state of being that carried through the entire pregnancy. Watching baby documentaries on Netflix would open the floodgates of emotional gratitude for finally being allowed to partake in this incredibly unique and magical experience that is giving life and then loving like never before. We’d find ourselves imagining our own little one being born, their warmth in our arms, and their coos tugging at our heartstrings. I’m not gonna lie, the tears were heavy and commonplace in our household.

I also spent time practicing being a daddy.

In fact, in the months that followed Sophie and I just found new ways to fall in love with each other. Each gaze, each tear, and each moment together allowed us to fall even more deeply in love and our soon to grow family. We had finally created what we had desired and worked towards our entire life, a family where one begins and the other ends is indistinguishable, a togetherness so true and pure that one look at each other floods you with a sense of belonging and completeness like you never knew was possible. We had in the truest sense of the word become each other’s home.

We spent a lot of our time enjoying each other and our home, especially in our yard.

In the early months Sophie had a rough go of it. Plagued with headaches and nausea day in and day out she struggled terribly, I was of very little help, a familiar feeling sadly. One of our first major decisions we needed to make was whether we should go with a doctor or a midwife for the regular baby checkups and delivery. Honestly, if it weren’t for many of my closest friends I likely would not have given midwives a fair shake. Sophie’s mother went with a midwife for all 3 of her pregnancies so Sophie was already aware and open to this avenue. The caveat was that midwives can not administer an epidural which was something Sophie definitely wanted on the table and who can blame her, pain is not something anyone really looks forward to. Epidurals are the hospital's domain so a difficult decision was ahead.

I naturally spent a lot of time doing silly things, sometimes I’d get a laugh other times I did not. — I naturally spent a lot of time doing silly things, sometimes I’d get a life other times I did not.

I was still not convinced of the midwife approach so Sophie scheduled a tour of the birth house with a midwife. We discovered upon our visit that the Outaouais birth house is one of the biggest in the country and walking around and visiting the actual rooms where the births occur was the first major shift in my perspective. Rooms were large and private, the bed was an actual queen size bed like at home, a jacuzzi tub to the left, and a patio door to the right that backs onto a small forested area in case you want fresh air. Food is cooked on premises and doesn’t resemble hospital food at all, they smelled and looked a lot like a fantastic home cooked meal. Everything needed for a birth in terms of medical equipment is all within reach in the room; it is just not on display affording you the comfort of a soft and comforting environment for what is most likely going to be a gruelling but extremely rewarding experience.

This room is yours throughout your labour and afterwards.

In case of complications ambulances have their very own dedicated entrance for quick access and the closest hospital is 5 minutes away, this was a factor that we did not yet realize that was going to be critically important. Following the midwife to her office we were greeted with dozens of pictures of families and babies that our midwife delivered. She was an immigrant from Iran with over 15 years of experience as a midwife who teaches the profession at university and who conducts her own research in the field. We realized very quickly how fortunate we were to have landed with her as our midwife should we opt to go this path. The pregnancy journey is one filled with many appointments and tests. One of the major differentiating factors between a hospital based approach and that of a midwife is the mother’s experience. The birth house and midwife approach is centered on the comfort and support of Sophie. Everything they do and how they operate is all about ensuring what is easiest and best for her. If tests are to be done, like bloodwork, they don’t ship Sophie off with a requisition form to a lab to get it done, they do it themselves right there in their office. So when you come for your checkup most of the tests are done right then and there removing the medical ping pong that plagues most of our medical experiences which is a very welcome change. You are also assigned and will meet with two midwives given that it is impossible to predict what time of day you will give birth. This way when it comes time to deliver the baby you absolutely know who will be performing the delivery and they are aware of you and your progress throughout the entire journey.

We were encouraged to stay active throughout, we understood this as take walks once in a while :P

Another incredible difference is the exchange of phone numbers. Sophie is given our primary midwife’s number and is encouraged to reach out with questions or anything really. This is further cemented by receiving texts from the midwife first just to check in on us. This aspect made such a big difference for Sophie as she suffered from severe reflux in the second trimester and rather than booking an appointment she texted the midwife. Her response? A prescription was faxed to Sophie’s pharmacist and was ready for pickup an hour later and relief was granted to her within hours without ever having to leave home. This was the case on multiple occasions and a prime example of why their approach is a much more appealing and human way to practice medicine. The decision to opt for a midwife or not was always in Sophie’s hands but having my support was something that made the decision easier, and she did. As for the epidural, she could always change her mind at the end if she felt unable to go on and she would be quickly transferred to the hospital.

Needless to say Sophie opted for the midwife approach.

The male experience during pregnancy is quite subdued given that throughout the 9 months our bodies aren’t really going through any major changes other than perhaps the sympathy weight gain. For me life somewhat carried on as usual except when delineated by an event related to our baby. This absence of being in the moment was a point of melancholy for me as I’d waited so long to reach this moment and all that was waiting for me was more waiting. I felt a bit disconnected and wrapped up in the rat race of life as usual but nothing could be further from the truth in reality. I shared this feeling of being disconnected from the richness and exuberant beauty of bearing a child with Sophie and nothing I share with my wonderful and amazing lover is ever forgotten nor does it ever fall on deaf ears. From that moment on she actively shared and brought me along with what she was feeling. Moments driving, walking, sleeping, or on the couch watching some Netflix she would casually grab my hand and place it gently on her stomach in the hopes that I could feel what our little one was doing just behind the veil of her skin. Sometimes I was fortunate to witness through touch our child in motion while others I was left to wonder what I missed behind the veil. The first time I felt our little one flex her karate chops in mommy’s tummy I was quite easily moved to tears, each of these moments culminating in further cementing that what was happening was real. It reinforced that this was really happening for us, that we would be parents soon and that our lives were about to change forever. Sometimes while lying in bed together Sophie would tap me on the shoulder and point to her stomach. I would turn and look and to my surprise I witnessed what must have been hiccups. I can’t say I’ve ever been amazed by hiccups yet here I was staring lovingly at my lover’s stomach in complete awe. Sometimes we’d even try to hear her heartbeat with a stethoscope, and while we never succeeded, the off chance that we might was always exhilarating. A few times I would even read a little book to her in the hopes that my voice would be one of the few she recognized when she came out. In these moments that Sophie brought me along the pregnancy journey we often found ourselves enjoying our final days of quiet, loving couple solitude. We were both thankful for these final moments together alone, and enamored with the arrival of our deeply loved child. It was in these cherished moments that I also quietly realized that Sophie would never be as close again to our child as she was when they were inside her, physically speaking of course. A thought that still marks me to this day.

In the early days I was winning the belly competition but alas Sophie beat me out in the end.

Being pregnant during a global pandemic certainly has changed many aspects of the experience but thankfully for us in Quebec I was permitted to share many of the special moments with Sophie where others in Ontario were not allowed. This included ultrasounds of which there were a total of 3. The first was an early one due to a scare brought on by some unexpected blood loss. Naturally our minds imagined dark outcomes but we vowed to remain calm until we knew what was going on for sure. The ultrasound confirmed that our little gyoza was still nestled safely in Sophie’s belly and our concern was for naught. Scenarios like these were why we only shared the news with our closest friends and family at first, it was after the second ultrasound that allowed us to feel like we had overcome an important milestone which drove us to share our story so far with a wider audience. I also shared the news with my work around this time but Sophie opted to wait even longer since she was in the running to perhaps get a promotion, and even though these kinds of things shouldn’t have any bearing on the decision she preferred not taking a chance. A couple of months before she was due to go on maternity leave, after she was successfully given the promotion is when she shared the news with work. This was of course only possible in large part due to the pandemic and the working from home reality. Some people opted to not wear pants during meetings or stay off camera naked, well Sophie opted to be pregnant and no one was the wiser. As we struggled to get pregnant she had placed her entire life on hold. We had banked a lot on having kids including plans for the future and things weren’t going our way so she figured the moratorium for other aspects of her life could take a back seat since pregnancy was not playing ball with us, but then when it decided to enter the game things were already in motion and Sophie is not a quitter. So in the face of a pregnancy and other pursuits she pushed through like she always does and made those dreams come true as well. As a man with none of these limitations I saw first hand the struggles that women have to contend with that we do not. Pregnancy has a time horizon, a half life that cannot be escaped, but these are the same prime years that are ripe for career building and the pursuit of success. In my younger years my mother taught me so much about how women can love and achieve such incredible things in family settings, and Sophie has shown me the struggles and the passion required to overcome hurdles that men often don’t even know are there as they themselves never face them. My eyes are certainly more open to these things now but I digress.

In the final ultrasound we were given the choice of finding out the sex, we both really wanted to know, in part likely to help with our very difficult name search. Sophie also wanted to do a gender reveal which she had tasked her sister with. So the doctor wrote the sex down on a piece of paper, carefully folded it and handed it to me. I stuffed it into my pocket and we left the appointment brimming with excitement, Sophie asked that her sister execute the reveal in fast fashion as she just couldn’t wait any longer, she committed to making it happen in a day and a half. Prior to all of this unfolding I had shared a quiet realization I had while reflecting on this whole notion of a gender reveal. Deep inside I found that I wanted to cross this bridge in a more personal and private manner. I wanted to be free to feel without influence, to experience this moment that only comes once as best I could and something about being surrounded by others besides Sophie would have an impact on that. I wanted to be in the moment for myself and my child since moments like this are so rare and special. If I was to have this moment it would have to be in secret and it would have to be quick before I handed the little piece of paper off. So shortly after the ultrasound I found myself waiting in line alone at Home Depot to return something. This was the moment. It had presented itself without planning, there was no one around, and I had access. Without further hesitation I created my very first personal moment with my child by pulling the paper out and gently unfolded it. Possible futures raced through my mind in a kaleidoscope of possibilities, possibilities that became more real at each leg of this wonderful journey. As I looked down and read the paper solemnly I learned that we were to have a girl. Tears welled up in my eyes thinking of daddy’s little girl, wrapped around her little finger and she wasn’t even born yet. When I got back in the car with Sophie she suspected I knew but I defended my secret as best as I could, which against Sophie isn’t very good at all. We handed the paper off to her sister and I played the fool for a day and a half.

At the reveal we got the family on zoom while her sister handed us a tupperware full of mini gyoza’s she had made herself. You see me being an enormous fan of Japan rather than calling our little one a bun in the oven we opted for something a little more personal. A gyoza are Japanese dumplings which seemed just as appropriate as a bun. Her sister is incredibly gifted with these kinds of things, she always brings this personal touch to cards, wrapping, decorations, and now gender reveals. I was quite touched by the gesture. Her sister than instructed us to each take a gyoza and to bite into it at the same time. If the middle was pinkish (strawberry jam) it was a girl and if it was blueish (blueberry jam) it was a boy. We did as instructed and I don’t even remember if I looked down at the gyoza, I just wanted to see Sophie discover the gender and etch this moment of hers in my heart forever. There’s nothing else quite like her in this world, who she is and how she splits right through all my rough edges; she cuts through me each and every time with her emotions and this is something I hope never changes. She burst out with such joy and emotion and I just leaned in and fell into her arms, a place I’m always happy to be and we shared this moment together while the family reacted and watched. We thanked her sister and her other half and headed back home now armed with a new piece of information that should make our hellish journey of finding a perfect name for our little one a bit easier.

We had bought a book of names and had hardly made a dent in the thing when we realized we had very different preferences. We also found the experience of reading page after page of names, with the majority of them being non-starters quite painful. We needed to find an alternative way of finding a name and quick cause neither one of us was keen on subjecting ourselves to this self-imposed torture day in and day out. So one day during my physio therapy session the therapist, who was also expecting, started to tell me about this app that was like Tinder except for baby names. My spidey senses started tingling and immediately after leaving the office I downloaded the app and sent Sophie a request to join. Within minutes we were swiping left and right through an endless list of names. When we matched on one it would get added to a shared list. We still took a lot of time going through many names but in this way we were able to do so asynchronously a little bit at a time which in turn compiled to make a tremendous difference. We ended up with a long list of names from which to choose from. As we walked through our shared list one name always spoke to me more loudly than the others and this was only further cemented once I learned its underlying meaning: sorrowful. Anyone who knows me knows that it is impossible for me to hide my feelings. They are on full display in glorious 4k reality as I feel them. There are many who associate tears with sadness and see this as a state to be avoided but tears are also a source of happiness, strength, and a place where all the colours and beauty of the world become exponentially more pronounced. I learned early on that moments in life that challenge you, that break you down and cut you deep are the ones that truly shape you. It is in our grief and sorrow where we truly discover our strength and more importantly who we really are. There is no stronger place to shape one's character. To live and to love is a life well lived, a life worth living; anything else is nothing but a shadow of life. To love is to lose and when love is lost it is replaced with grief and sorrow, but what is grief and sorrow if not to mourn the loss of love. This is the tradeoff one makes when choosing to love. You don’t choose not to play just because you might get hurt. Getting hurt is a part of life and life is worth living to its fullest. Yes Lola is a melodious name with such a rich meaning, there could never be any other name for our daughter than one that begs one to live a life fully, to breath in the full spectrum of emotions, to lean into the dark parts as much as the bright parts for beauty is to be found in all aspects of life.

Another major decision we made was to go with cloth diapering.

With a name finally chosen we started talking to Lola, singing to Lola, reading to Lola, so much so I was sure the kid would come out of the womb speaking her name. I even made a playlist for her made up of songs I liked that had the name Lola in them. We shared the news with friends and family and each person we told absolutely loved the name, or at least pretended to love the name in front of us. With a name selected and loved by all (or almost all) we were left to focus on the things that needed to be learned. We assisted online classes for breastfeeding and birth, went in for regular checkups and to hear our daughter’s heart beating perfectly. In these moments I learned so much about pregnancy I did not know. You see most of what I knew I learned from movies and what do we see in those most of the time? A woman gets rounder in the tummy for 9 months, then there are contractions along with the water breaking, the floor is flooded, a quick trip to the hospital is made and then an hour later the baby is born if there are no complications. In the birth class I was surprised to learn that the whole process of giving birth can last dozens of hours. I’m gonna repeat that for those of you who were just as clueless as me. It can take dozens of hours. When contractions hit you are looking for a magic formula before you even consider making your way to the birth center or hospital. Contractions need to last for 1 minute, every 4 minutes, for 1 full hour. At one point the women were told if they started having contractions in the middle of the night to let their partners continue sleeping cause they would need their energy the next day since we weren’t going to be getting shots of adrenaline and oxytocin naturally like they were. The caveat to all of this of course was if the water broke, if that happened then you would need to come in. In the breastfeeding one I learned that the first liquid that a baby will drink for the first few days is called colostrum. Milk only comes in a few days later. In fact the pregnant women were encouraged to do hand expression, think milking a cow mooooo, as early as 35 weeks. If they were successful they should save this precious liquid in a syringe and freeze it, can be very handy when baby gets sick. Seems like Sophie’s breasts’ are overachievers like she is cause on her first try she was able to collect colostrum. Every night she did this and every night she collected a handsome reward from her breast. To this day we still have weeks worth of syringes in our freezer. In these sessions I also learned that it is the baby that kicks off the birthing process by releasing a substance that signals the mother’s hormones… say whaaaaaa? Man, the woman’s body is so amazing. Seriously, how useless are men’s bodies. So we can grow big muscles. Who cares, can your body expand and transform to create and support life for months? I am just amazed by this entire process. A small part of me knew early on when I met Sophie that she would just be amazing at all of this and that same part knew deep down just how incredible she would be as a mother. I’ve learned to listen to these instincts and I’m so thankful I did.

When the month of August finally arrived Sophie decided that she would take 3 weeks off to enjoy her final weeks before Lola’s arrival. Summer was here, we had a pool in the yard to enjoy and more importantly she deserved the break. It was during this time that we finally got around to doing some pregnancy pics. We never got around to doing some of us but the ones of her we opted to go a different route than most seem to do. For one I took the pictures myself and for another Sophie went with a bathing suit by our pool to mark this wonderful moment. We had such a wonderful time connecting with each other, laughing and playing around with how ridiculous we were both being. The end result was just stunning. A true beauty to behold in all her pregnant glory. A part of me is sad we didn’t get a chance to capture us together but I am so grateful that we at least caught these candid moments of her while holding Lola in her tummy. Sophie is a gorgeous woman to begin with but something about her glow when she was pregnant brought her to a whole other level. It was like the shiny parts I adore about her on the inside were on full display on the outside.

Shortly after this impromptu photoshoot her brother and his wife came over with their two daughters for a surprise visit. You’ll perhaps remember the sister-in-law as the one that caught the light pregnancy line on the peepee test and helped confirm it once and for all with a fancy test that removed all doubt. We were all sitting in our newly outfitted Lola room where our nieces were taking advantage of Lola’s toys and making us laugh with sibling rivalries. Sophie would get up often to go to the washroom as pregnant women often do. After coming back from one of her regularly scheduled potty breaks she complained about how much pee was winding up in her sanitary napkins and these menstrual cramps she was having. Our sister-in-law’s pregnancy system went into full alert again, she asked inquisitively “are you sure it's pee? Maybe it is your water breaking. Also those cramps are probably your contractions!” Upon further reflection Sophie admitted that this could in fact be the case so we called up our midwife and inquired what we should do. She told us that in order to confirm we would have to come in. So we quickly said goodbye to the family and proceeded to grab our “oh shit it’s happening bag” and jumped into the car. Fearing that this might be a false alarm and not sensing much of anything else Sophie suggested that perhaps we go through the Tim Hortons drive through just in case. A coffee and ice capp later we were on the road to the birth center perhaps for the final time before meeting our baby daughter Lola. We were wrought with excitement and the possibilities of what our life would be like from this point on.

Us in the Tim Horton’s drive through while Sophie endures contractions she didn’t even know she was having.

Once at the birth house we were greeted by the midwife and brought to a room where the midwife could perform a test on the liquid emanating from inside Sophie and in short order she confirmed that this woman’s work had begun. We were shown to our room and we quickly got settled. In those early moments Sophie leaned in to kiss me and whispered “I had no idea that contractions were like menstrual cramps.”, of which she had brutal ones when she was younger. She continued “If that’s all it is this will be a breeze.” Famous last words if I ever I heard any. Shortly after the difficult work began and the pain of the contractions hit Sophie hard and increased with intensity each passing hour. It got to a point where she could not tell where one ended and the next one began. Because the water had broken we were on a countdown before Sophie would be transferred to the hospital, the midwife offered to do a stripping to help accelerate the birthing process. This was a painful procedure that Sophie did not enjoy at all and that she endured with no pain killers. Afterwards the midwife informed us that Sophie’s dilation was already at 4mm, the target was 8 to 10 before she could begin pushing. So the waiting game continued.

The test that confirmed Sophie’s water had indeed broke.

In preparation for this day Sophie had invested some money and much of her time in hypno birth therapy. Once the pain started, so did the tracks and all that practice was put into practice. At first I followed her nervous pacing and tried to comfort her with gentle stroking paired with some deep pressure massage but I reached a breaking point when she turned suddenly towards me and threateningly told me “I wish I was you right now!” I backed away sheepishly and reflected on how I could better help her through all of this. I felt powerless as I watched my love suffer, the answer I sought however was found in the preparation she laid all along. In the hypno birth track that I was tasked with restarting every time it ended the therapist gently ushered cues for the partner and I was quick to follow them. This transformed my approach into a much more nuanced birth partner, I would lay a hand on her shoulder to let her know I was always there. I would sit on the floor to be by her side when she entered the tub. I would regularly pour water into her mouth to keep her hydrated and mostly I would just listen silently to her cues. Sophie spent hours humming her heavy expirations. A full hour after some painful contractions the midwife offered to check dilation once more, this time we were at 4.5. I could see hope vanish from Sophie’s face. Every once in a while the midwife would show up with some sort of concoction which was to help accelerate the contractions and each time Sophie would down her shot. An area where Sophie found a bit of comfort was sitting on the toilet but there was nowhere for her to rest her head so I would go and stand beside her so that she could lean on me and my arm and let me absorb the weight of her head. It was here that Sophie vomited those concoctions into a bucket I held. I felt horrible for her and all I could do was exist there with her in these incredibly difficult moments. Later once she was settled in the jacuzzi tub she secretly told me that if no progress was to be had in the next dilation check she wanted to go to the hospital for the epidural. I responded with “whatever you want you will get.” She spent a good two hours in the tub with the jets on which you would think would drown out Sophie’s humming but the opposite was true.

A moment I captured while Sophie was practicing the hypno birth.

By this point Sophie's mother arrived as my backup or support in case she was needed, wonderful and helpful as always. The midwife came back to check once more where things were at but to do so Sophie would have to transfer to the bed, a major undertaking as movement was not a welcome activity anymore. Sophie wanted to stay still and focus on making it through each contraction by breathing, and humming and listening to the soft direction of the hypno birth therapist. But alas she also wanted to know where we stood so she reluctantly came out of the tub and made her way to the bed with some help. It was then that the midwife informed us that Sophie was now at 7mm. Once more Sophie lost faith in herself that she could do this and it was at this moment that the midwife leaned in and said “you are now in the hardest part, but it is also the quickest part. Lean in and you’ll get through this. You can do this Sophie.” Something she said triggered Sophie to push on and so the humming continued from the bed. It wasn’t long after when we reached the the target dilation, the midwife got everything in order and gathered another midwife and a birth assistant to help in these upcoming critical moments. I sat up beside Sophie on the left of her in the bed and went into an extremely attentive mode. I did not want to miss any of this and more importantly I wanted to be ready for anything that was needed, especially for my lover. Our midwife became a sort of orchestrator sitting at the edge of the bed with one hand helping Sophie and the other directing the others. She would cue Sophie on when to push as well as cue the other midwife to check Lola’s pulse. A rhythm developed between pushes and pulse checking and on each push I would help bring Sophie’s legs and head towards her abdomen as the midwife instructed her to push as if she was going to the toilet.

A candid shot of Sophie during labour in the tub.

For those of you who have met Sophie in real life you’ll know that she is a tall girl, standing at 6 feet she is easy to spot in a crowd. Lying down on this bed before me and contracting her entire body I would see this 6 foot beauty compress into what looked like 3 feet of space. Every time she pushed there was full commitment and not once did she stop due to pain. As each push came and went another check of Lola’s heartbeat was executed. After a while a pattern was emerging, her heart was slowing as she travelled down the canal. It was around this time that I saw the head and the hair appear just behind the lips. A couple of more pushes and I would see more and more of the head but each time it was as if the head would not crown and pass that dreadful moment known as the ring of fire. The midwife acknowledged the slowing heartbeat and calmly told Sophie that the next 2 to 3 pushes would be the final ones before she would get to meet her baby. All she would need are the strongest and hardest pushes she had and when those cues came Sophie gave it her all. I saw the conviction in her eyes that this was something she wasn’t backing away from. Later after all was said and done she confided that there was no way that we were going to lose our daughter cause she didn’t push hard enough. She did not want that on her conscience and more importantly she so desperately wanted to meet this child of ours. On the final push Sophie compressed so much and for so long I worried and turned to the midwife and exclaimed “she has to breathe!” and it was in this moment of panic that Lola’s head breached and not even a few seconds later she had completely emerged and was laid down on Sophie’s chest.” I was awash in tears, a moment I feared might never come had finally arrived and everyone had made the journey safely. A family of two entered these premises and now a family of three found themselves in each other’s tears. I whispered over and over to Sophie “you id it. You did it. You did it. I love you so much!” partly in complete disbelief. We had successfully created life after so many hardships and now our lives were forever changed. I observed the little one wiggle with deepest fascination on her mom’s welcoming chest, Sophie’s rich blue eyes an ocean of love for her little Lola that she carried around for almost 9 full months minus one day. That’s right, like her mother Lola likes to keep things planned and on time and decided to come out only one day before the projected due date which was to be on the 30th of August. And so on August 29th, at 8:17pm Sophie and I were proud parents of a 9 pound Lola.

While we cherished our first moments as a family there was still work to be done but as Sophie’s friends explained the delivery of the placenta was much easier than that of the baby. In a candid moment after Lola’s exit Sophie confided that the ring of fire was not as bad as the contractions which was opposed to what she was told to expect. After a good 20 minutes the placenta was still not out so Sophie was injected with Oxytocin which would trigger the uterus to contract and thus expel the placenta from her body. Shortly after she was directed to give a few pushes and sure enough the placenta came out. It was around this time that the mood in the room changed quickly as Sophie pushed some more, the midwife started asking her loudly to stop pushing as Sophie grimaced in extreme agony. I looked over to the midwife’s hand and saw the placenta finally out… the look on her face however led me to believe that all was not right. While she did not panic this is what I sensed as I looked down once more and saw a large mass protruding out of Sophie besides the placenta. In short order she directed the other midwife to call the emergency gynecologist at the hospital immediately. Upon her first try she did not get through and said we could leave a message to call us back asap. Our midwife instructed her to get that doctor on the phone now, call the emergency and put her on speaker. As the midwife dialed we were informed that she was unaware what the other mass was, she’d never seen anything like it. At first she thought it might have been another baby but upon closer inspection something more sinister was at work here. She asked Sophie what she felt to which she responded “Everything inside is pulling so much, it hurts.” It was then the midwife realized it was maybe her uterus that had come out along with the placenta. Once someone got on the other line our midwife demanded them to get the doctor on the line right away and to send an ambulance. All this while Sohie was losing precious blood, over a litre and a half according to the midwife. A short moment later the doctor got on and the midwife began describing what had transpired and what she held in her hand. The doctor asked her to put the mass back inside of Sophie to which the midwife tried to do repeatedly unsuccessfully and each attempt hurt Sophie further. Due to the loss of blood the other midwife was asked to give Sophie an IV, which in all the excitement the initial needle had come out. Another one had to be inserted and Sohie’s veins aren’t the most cooperative. Everyone who encounters them has a difficult time and this was no different, in fact due to the heightened stressful situation it likely made the task even more unforgiving. After the second try she had to switch sides and by this time the ambulance had arrived and was ready to take her. The doctor on the phone exclaimed that she could not be transported so long as the mass was outside of her. The midwife informed her that she had tried this repeatedly without success. The doctor was unbending “she can’t come unless you get it back inside of her, this is extremely important!” This warning was all the midwife needed to give it one last go, with all her might she pushed the mass back inside while Sophie grimaced and yelled in reaction to the pain. “I did it” she yelled and then the doctor ordered her to be brought over right away. Looking over at my love I could see the life draining out of her, a pale colour was taking over due to blood loss and a level of exhaustion I had never seen before. I began seriously fearing for her life but kept my panic and worry at bay for baby and mother.

That's right, remember in all of this we had just had a baby, Lola was still resting on Sophie. We were told that I would stay with Lola while Sophie went to the hospital with the midwife. Sophie’s mother also witnessed all of this as it transpired and she was asked to stay with me. She turned to me and asked what I wanted. I wanted someone with Sophie that loved her. In these moments I was consumed with deep fears of losing my lover, my life and as they transferred Lola over to me on my bare chest they then proceeded to pick Sophie up and place her on the gurney, our eyes locked into a loving gaze. Internally I thought of saying “We are doing this together”, this being parenthood but didn’t want to worry Sophie more than she was likely already and so I muttered “I love you” as they wheeled her away and left Lola and I behind. I did not want to go through this wonderful life of ours without her, it was just not a scenario I had imagined yet here we were with a possibility I had not fathomed on the table. Any worries we had were all related to Lola and her health we never imagined something like this would transpire. The birth of Lola was supposed to be followed with her first breastfeeding session and some quality time with mom and dad. Instead she was forced into dad’s arms with no capability to nourish our cherished little one. The other midwife stayed with me and helped me calm Lola by showing me how to give her my pinky as a way to soothe herself by sucking. While I worried endlessly about Sophie in the back of my mind she kept other parts of my mind occupied with very important questions, one of which was if Sophie had managed to extract colostrum prior to delivery. Well I’ll be damned, all that hard work was going to pay off right out of the gate. I answered “we’ve got weeks worth at home in the freezer!” She responded enthusiastically “Amazing! Can you get anyone to pick it up for you and bring it here so we can feed Lola?” Time to call the family! In less than a few minutes I had Sophie’s sister on the phone and I explained the entire situation. She accepted right away. I told her that I had remotely unlocked the garage door already, thank god for smart locks, and described where she could find the stash. Less than half an hour had passed and I was embraced by Sophie’s sister and her better half. The midwife took a few syringes and went to warm Lola’s first meal up. It was at this moment that the midwife called with news. Sohpie had suffered an inverted uterus, an incredibly rare situation. Upon arrival the surgery crew was on standby while the emergency gynecologist examined the situation. Thanks to her quick instructions and her actions she was able to place the uterus back inside without the need to go to surgery. She was now being monitored in the ICU and first chance I got I could come and join her with Lola. That's right, her uterus came out. I didn't even know that was a thing, apparently can be quite lethal. The need to get it back inside prior to transport was because of the oxytocin, you see the uterus remained as a contracted ball in the midwife's hand thanks to the injection which was to get the placenta out. It would likely have worn out before arrival at the hospital which would have made reinsertion much more dangerous and difficult.

Lola 3 hours after being born ready for her first car ride.

With the news of Sophie's stabilization I exhaled a sigh of relief, we had dodged our first crisis together as a family. The second midwife came back and showed me how to feed Lola the colostrum from the syringe. She ate it up with no fuss and wanted seconds, which she got and deserved. Sis and boyfriend helped me pack up our stuff and then came time to dress Lola and place her in her car seat. Hours after birth and she was already going to go for a car ride to be reunited with her mother at the hospital. Sophie’s sister offered to ride with me and I accepted right away. I wanted her to be with Lola in the back just in case and quite frankly I wanted the company to lift my spirits on the way. Thankfully the hospital was a short five minute trip, finding the right parking lot was a bit more complicated but once found we headed in. The stepfather greeted us at the doors and helped us carry all the stuff. It seems Sophie was transferred to the maternity ward as she was super stable now, more great news so we headed in looking forward to seeing her. It still being pandemic time not everyone was allowed to join her, in fact only Lola and I were allowed so the family hugged and we said our goodbyes and I headed up to join my wife, Lola’s mother, our life. Upon reaching her floor a nurse greeted me and right away started telling me how much of a warrior my wife was and how her story is already making the rounds around the hospital. It seems in 24 years of practice the emergency gynecologist had never seen this happen, much less without any anesthetic at all. That’s right, Sophie suffered and endured everything without ever having access to anything to numb the pain. This included the doctor pushing her arm inside of Sophie to put back the uterus in its rightful place and then with a circular motion pushing everything to the extremities. That’s one bad ass mom we are talking about. Evidence of this notoriety happened on multiple occasions as nurses came to see Sophie saying things like “that’s the one, she did everything without pain medication.” For one brief night Sophie became a hospital rock star just by surviving.

Once Lola and mamma were reunited right away they were introduced to breastfeeding. The nurses would inform us each and every time that Lola was just a visitor and not in their charge prior to providing that help, a situation that arises due to what is likely in fighting between doctors and midwives, an unfortunate situation for us patients sadly. But alas after the legal spiel they were incredibly helpful in helping Sophie get accustomed to helping Lola feed. We were then set up in a double room which we had all to our own, no doubt due to Sophie’s superstardom, and a little bed for Lola to sleep beside her mom and dad. Sophie and I relived these latest moments recounting everything from each other’s perspective and we savoured the happy ending we were greeted with. She shared her experience of the birth and I listened and admired this incredible woman whom I am incredibly lucky to call my wife, and secretly inside I thanked the universe for allowing us to become parents together. As the fatigue set in we expressed once more a deep appreciation for each other, the world as we know it and now our beautiful little daughter, Lola. We settled in for the night and vowed to try and get some sleep. Sophie on her super duper robot powered hospital bed and me on my reclining semi comfortable chair and sheet. As we tried to sleep, Lola would crack a few sounds every once in a while to which we would bounce up and check on her. Ahhhh the joys and lack of sleep of parenthood had begun. After the third time I decided to just stay up and monitor our bundle of joy so that Sophie could get some much needed and extremely well deserved rest knowing that someone was watching and caring for Lola. Morning came surprisingly fast and along with it another visit from the doctor. With the loss of blood Sophie was at risk of collapsing if she exerted too much effort so one condition to her release was being able to walk to and from the washroom on her own. The other was being able to actually pee. If she couldn’t pee she would need to be emptied with a catheter for fear of a hemorrhage. It took a few times where the nurses needed to help Sophie pee but eventually she was able to regain her own autonomy so long as she didn’t push herself too much. With these achievements came her release. One final caution was given and that was not to force when peeing or pooing, I figured this had to do with hemorrhaging. I packed our things and got a wheelchair, Sophie sat back and got an all expenses trip paid from the hospital to our car. As we packed our little family up for our first ride home together Sophie and I burst into tears as we stared lovingly at our daughter in the back seat. She was healthy, perfect, and we had come out of this unexpected wild ride together. We acknowledged in this special moment that while our time of waiting on Lola to come had concluded, our life of waiting on Lola had finally begun.