Standing
alone in a bungalow bathroom in South Africa I laughed out loud to
see the positive line on my pregnancy test, then promptly burst into
tears, miles from home I didn’t want to tell my husband over the
phone as I wanted to really 'share' the news with him so secretly
pregnant and a week away from my husband the very last thing on my
mind was how my little peanut would enter the world I just knew she
was here and I loved her and life was about to become very different
Fast
forward about 6 months and all I could think of was birth and
planning. I had been advised (wrongly) against home birth because I
had something called Group B Strep and I should be in a
hospital ! I'd also suffered with SPD and so was rather
nervous about being mobile, and not in pain. My due date was 1st
December but I KNEW she was coming on 29th November, no
one wants to have a December birthday (as Peanut's Godmother will
tell you) and duly on the 29th what could only be a real
proper contraction got me very excited.
We
had plans for dinner at one of my Best friends (the Godmother with
the December Birthday) and we stuck to them as I was doing ok if a
little uncomfortable, I spent the evening chatting and bouncing on a
ball, came home and we went to bed, but at 2am I excitedly told
Spartacus it was time and off we went to our local delivery suite and
so the story turns sour......
Im
afraid you are still only 1cm! What Ive been at this hours you must
be mistaken! So it continued, irregular but strong contractions for 3
more days, interspersed with no sleep, visits to the hospital only to
be told still 1-2cm but waters are bulging! I researched latent
labour with a sinking dread, surely this couldn’t go on for weeks I
needed help, so crying with self pity on 1st
December I trundled in for a shot of Diamorphine, and settled down for
some much needed rest, I sent my husband home at 7pm and started to
snooze, at 8.50pm I got up to fill my little cardboard sample pot,
presently sat down on the loo and with a huge audible pop the sample
pot shot out of my hands with the force of my waters breaking! So the
husband was called back and it all became very very real. Eight
hours, two courses of IV antibiotics a shot of diamorphine and much
proclaiming that I just couldn’t do it later Peanut was handed to
me all gooey and slimy and pointy headed from all the pushing.
My first thought was 'well you're here then'. I will be honest, the sleep
deprivation the drugs I hadn’t wanted and the 2 hours of pushing
had really stunned me and my bolt of pure love and adoration, well
that came later. My girl fed like a star, cried like,well like a baby
and did all that she was supposed to. But weeks on I still felt like
I had failed a bit, no natural birth no calm serene loving event. But
at the same time our bond was growing into something fierce and
primal and despite my disappointment at not having the romantic
picture perfect birth I had envisaged I knew immediately we would do
it again and soon. After all I had done it, no matter how, she was
mine and she was here and safe and I DID THAT! Hear me roar I am
amazing, I grew her and talked to her and sacrificed quite happily for
her, I worked hard for her and she was here in my arms loving me (as
long as food and comfort were in plentiful supply)
So
the adventure began, the sleepless nights and constant worry, the joy
and smiles and giggles, the colic and teething and parental guilt,
the weaning, the holidays and 9 months later.... a very clear blue
line!
aaawww everything we go through is worth it in the end when we get to hold them in our arms!! thanks for sharing your story #archiveday x
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