Since having my son on Christmas Day, my blogging has almost ground to a halt. I must admit to finding the first 8 weeks really difficult and finding any spare time or motivation equally so. Since then, I guess I have struggled to come up with ideas.
In trying to get back into things, it was suggested by lovely fellow mummy and blogger Hannah at Make Do Push to start with my birth story. What a great idea, this is afterall the life changing event which has turned everything upside down and will more than likely affect the subject matter of my writing on here significantly.
Looking at other mummy bloggers, there are all sorts of things I could have written about…. Everything from equipment, to days out, to general feelings…. So I am going to stop looking for a complicated post and just write away.
My pregnancy was fantastic, apart from some early bleeding which worried me but not the Doctors at my early scan, everything was great. Of course I was tired and large and a bit grumpy at times, but generally I loved being pregnant and the closer it got to birth day, the less I worried about labour…. Which was great because I started off being really worried!
The Boy and I had discussed how we might like the birth to progress, but knew that it was a case of the best laid plans and all that! Nevertheless, we planned to have the baby at the Bradford Birthing Centre and to have a water birth.
After attending a 1st Birthday party and eating lots of sandwhiches and cakes, we headed home on Christmas Eve to cook some supper and relax ready for a low key Christmas Day. My brother was up from London and my Dad and he were planning to cook us Roast Goose for the big meal. I started getting stomach pains and seriously thought it was from overeating bread and cake…. It was about 30 minutes until it clicked that it might be something else!
Ever since being given a due date of 27th December, we had an inkling that Christmas Day might be the day…. And it seems like that’s what we were heading for (assuming a less than 22 hour labour!)
The birthing centre asked me over the phone when I had last felt the baby move… I couldn’t remember any movement during the day, so had to go in to be monitored to ensure everything was ok. We abandoned the dinner my brother was cooking, saying we will probably be back in an hour (famous last words!).
It was really difficult to identify any kicks or movement as my contractions were coming stronger at this stage. However they could hear the heartbeat and everything was fine so we thought we would be sent home… until the midwife checked me and found I was 5cm dilated…. And asked did I want some pain relief?
Off to the birthing centre we went and we were shown straight to the room we had picked out when we went to have a look around… fantastic! I strapped on my tens machine and sat on a birthing ball then realised I was blummin hungry. Once the birthing pool was filled up, I climbed into the pool and tucked into some cheese and onion crisps… something which I would regret when on the gas and air a little later!
It all went by in a bit of a blur… I remember making a lot more noise than I ever thought I could and spending much of the labour on my knees holding handles of the pool whilst The Boy administered gas and air. I did move around the pool a lot to get comfortable and I cannot vouch for the pain relief that the pool gave me as I have no basis for comparison, but the ability to move around was surely the biggest benefit.
The hardest bit for me was the final stage where I had to start pushing. I thought it would be instinctive but I found it really difficult and was worried that I was doing it wrong and the baby was stuck.
When Baby A eventually made his entrance, The Boy saw his baby’s face looking up at him through the water which I think was the proudest moment of his life and when they handed me my baby and I checked to see what flavour we had got, I felt a rush of love, relief and disbelief.
I must admit that relaxing in the water as Daddy had a cuddle was fairly short lived as I noticed the pool water around me… I wanted to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.
A was born at 1.21am and we were discharged from the hospital at 9.30am. Home in time for Christmas Dinner with the best Christmas present ever!