Progress: 100%

Ah, but it's not what you think!
The blanket is about 70% done - I need to get 2 more lace panels completed and one of those is about 20% done already.

So what is it that's no longer a WIP?

We went from this:



to this:



in just 2 hours. On Friday morning. It was a complete whirlwind.

I woke up at 2:56 am on Friday with some pretty intense contractions. Didn't think much of it. I'd had 8 bouts of false or prodromal labour in the preceding 3 weeks, and the baby wasn't due for another 11 days. I tried to go back to sleep, but no dice. At 3:15 I got out of bed, drank a litre or so of water, and did some rocking to cope with the pain. It didn't get better, so I filled a tub with warm water and just sat for about an hour. The water made the contractions so manageable that I actually thought they had stopped. I went back to bed, thoroughly annoyed at the loss of sleep and glad I hadn't woken and inconvenienced anyone.
Within minutes, I had woken Mr. Wonderful with moaning and heavy breathing - and not the good kind either. The contractions were back in full force. We laid there and discussed my state for a few minutes. He convinced me that we should call the midwife, and I asked him to take care of it. I was in no state to talk on the phone. In retrospect, all signs point to active labour. Why didn't I see it then?
Suddenly I was hit by an unending contraction - it just kept building and peaking, it never dissipated. Even then, it only lasted a few minutes . . . 3 peaks. And then, I HAD to get on the toilet. In spite of the intensity of the contraction, I got up and ran for the bathroom. Mr. Wonderful was finally able to go get the midwife's number. As he ran down the stairs, my water broke. And then I had to push. 3 pushes. And then the baby was crowning, although I didn't know it at the time.
I sat there and listened to Wonderful leave a message for the midwife. He turned to me and said 'and now we wait 15 minutes'. I remember thinking 'we don't have 15 minutes'. And I was right.
Our son was born minutes before the midwife arrived. And she lives just up the street from us. When I realized the burning was due to crowning, I felt like I had to push his head out. I sat and considered what to do for a few minutes - then decided to get him out. The what ifs were overwhelming - what if he's got a prolapsed cord and waiting is dangerous? What if the cord is around his neck and waiting will kill him? What if there are complications and giving birth to him here and now hurts or kills one or both of us? But the midwife was on her way, and I knew she'd come prepared for resuscitation if needed. It was risky, but so was sitting there with a baby's head birthed. So I stood up, and pushed. And then he was here, and wet and slimy . . . and in my hands. I caught my own baby.
At first he didn't breathe. He didn't cry. His face and extremities were purple. Turns out Wonderful and I both thought the worst, but neither of us had the strength to say it. It seemed like several minutes passed before he started snorting and several minutes more before his first wail - but I'm sure it was much quicker than that.
The midwife arrived shortly behind our wee son. She took care of the two of us, checked us out, made sure we were in good health. It wasn't the birth I had in mind - and I wouldn't recommend it as it was fully unplanned and we had no training 'just in case' . . . but all said, we're in good shape.

Our baby boy was born at 5:17am, weighing 7lbs, 6ozs and measuring 21". He's still looking for his blog name - he's no longer a son-thingy, he's now a son. I'm sure we'll figure something out.

Sweet Pea is adjusting well, with a few rough spots. She's absolutely enamoured of her 'baby butter' and kisses him all the time. I can't lay him down for even 2 minutes without a kiss. I'm glad she's so in love.





Currently, we're all doing well. The baby is thriving and has learned how to nurse finally. Shy of a little sleep deprivation, it's business as usual chez nous . . . in spite of a really exciting Friday morning.