October 3rd 2008:
Just another busy day in the life of the Tober's. One week before Heather's due date for baby #2. The day was typical in that there were errands run in town, chores done at both farms, a dog saved from yet another pesky creature (baby porcupine on this particular day), and a big steak supper for 2 guys from Matrix-Calgary (who'd been holed up in Oxbow for weeks with few food options...)
That night after the Matrix guys went back to town, and the dishwasher was filled I headed up to bed. Read a few pages in my perpetual book (takes literally months to read a book), switched off my lamp, rolled over and oops!!! my water broke. (i think)
I alert Dan to this possibility. He is does not believe me (he's half asleep on the couch, just getting into a new Law & Order) I head to the bathroom, legs trembling, to see what I can see. (Don't know what I expected!)
My water didn't break with Tristan (Drs did it at some point I assume) so I was a bit frazzled about this. Also - We were a week ahead of schedule! I had had no pains or hints that tonight would be the night, Tristan was a week late - I was gearing up for another overdue pregnancy. And besides - Pierson Craft Sale is tomorrow, and we're digging the trenches for our watering bowls - we HAD plans (not involving the arrival of a baby)
So I call the hospital to see if I should come in or wait for conractions to start. They say come in. I call mom to get her to come and watch Tristan. It is midnight by the time we leave the yard and the contractions have started. We are not expecting to have much time before this little baby arrives. Tristan was born 8 hours after the first contraction - no messing around when it comes to me having a baby! So if you believe what "they" say, this baby should take about half as long to come - 4hrs! yikes.
Turn onto the highway and 'bing bing' the Low Fuel Light comes on. 80kms to empty. Estevan is no more than 50 - we'll be alright. Let's just get there!
Speed up on the highway and the truck starts to shake and rattle. Mud in the tires. Washed my truck today, but didn't get all the mud out of the tires, aparently. SO. My laid-back chauffer sets the cruise at 80...80!!!! (and voila! no shake) HELLO - I'm in LABOR! anyway, I breathe through contractions, and try to block out his preactical advice on the importance of washing out the wheel wells.
We are just getting to Bienfait when the bright blue and red lights of a police car falsh on and pull us over.
cop: any alcohol in the vehicle?
dan: nope - just my wife in labour
cop: have you been drinking
dan: yeah, had a few beers at supper I guess
cop: i'll have to ask you to step out of the vehicle sir
are you freakin' kidding me!!!??? can't a person drive 80 at midnight and not be assumed drunk?? did you not hear the wife in labour part?! a million things run through my head. what if he blows over? can i drive myself to the hospital? What if we run out of gas? What if the baby starts to come while they are in the car? can i deliver this baby myself? what would happen if i waddled out of this truck and lost it on the cop? can they arrest a psycho-preggo lady in labour? after what felt like an hour dan is free to leave and 'have a nice night!' cripes! thanks a lot moron cop! Now let's get going!!!!
We make it the final 15km incident free, and check in to the hospital. In the monitoring room for a bit, where I'm instructed to try to rest and relax. Dan would like to do both as well - and those chairs in the monitoring room are just not made for sleeping! So he heads out to the waiting room and brings in a lazy boy! Might as well be comfortable!
After a bit I decide to ask for some drugs (demerol) I had no drugs with T and feel kind of guilty asking for them - but the contractions seem to hurt WAY more this time, and I just don't feel that I can breathe through them like I did 15 months earlier.
The nurses say I need to be moved to the labour/delivery room if I want the drugs - so they wheel me down the hall. Dan, wheels the LAZY BOY down the hall!!! So, these drugs really get me loopy - I keep trying to talk to Dan, he shh's me, as he's trying to get some more sleep. When it's time to push, Dan announces that he needs to use the bathroom first, and attempts to leave the delivery room for the public washroom down the hall. The nurses don't let him get away that easy and 3 of them herd him to the closer bathroom within the delivery room. Dr. Naidu magically appears, Dan comes back, I push like, 4 times and out comes this new baby - A GIRL!!
I don't remember much of what happened until after we are back in the "recovery" room. I say to dan "So, what are we going to call this little Pinkie?" We had not talked about names at all throughout the pregnacy - we don't exactly have the same taste... He says "uh... Rachel." In a tone that made it seem like I was silly for even asking, as if we'd talked about it and Rachel was a soild agreed upon choice. Me, still doped up, says, "oh. OK!" I vaguely remember asking him what about Sierra, Harlo, Dylyn or Summer??? (my top 4, Rachel didn't even make the top 20!!)No, No, No, and No. He could never take someone named any of those names seriously - a girl with any of those names would never be a boss of a business or have a chance at a good job, purely based on the flakey name at the top of the resume.
So Rachel it was. Middle name? no question. Eileen. That's Dan's Granny's name. She is an incredible woman that he and I both adore. We couldn't think of a better way to honour our favorite, spunky lady!
Completly exhaused Dan leaves for home and I pass out with a smile on my face.
We love you Rachel!!!
Happy Birthday!!
