‘Mothering’ Sunday

‘Mothering’ Sunday

I haven’t blogged in a long time. In fact, I didn’t ever finish writing the birth story. Or our struggle with feeding.  It’s all a bit hazy now and feels a lifetime ago.  I think that’s why people go on to have 1 or 2+ children more…

But I find myself tonight with the urge to blog. Mothering Sunday and its imminence has made me feel the need.

Felicity is now 7 and a half months old. Still I really struggle with the term ‘mother’. I find it so hard to believe that this girl of perfection is my daughter.  When people cuddle Flic and hand her back to me, saying ‘go to your mum’, I find myself thinking ‘Oh yes, that’s me.  I’m her MUM!’ I worry everyday that I’m not doing her justice as her mother, that I’m not doing enough ‘stuff’ with her and that I’m not good enough. I think that’s pretty normal and that they call that ‘Mum Guilt’.  It’s worst on the days I feel most sleep deprived and deranged. I still feel that someone will knock on the door one day and say “Look, you’ve had your fun being her mum, hand her back now.” I know that sounds ridiculous but I think it’s just a hangover from waiting and struggling to become pregnant and have a child.

So, this Sunday is Mothering Sunday. A day I’ve avoided like the plague for the last 6 years +. I’ve no idea how I’m going to feel come Sunday.  Part of me doesn’t want to celebrate it as it doesn’t seem fair to ‘go to the other side’ and celebrate becoming a mum when others are still struggling to become mothers or have lost their mums. Another part of me wants to really celebrate the fact that Felicity is here with us and part of our family at long last.

So, how it’s actually going being a ‘Mother’??:

Felicity is 7.5 months old.  She’s fantastic and brings so much joy to our lives.  She’s such a happy little girl and is so smiley and funny. Her character is really starting to show; she’s very headstrong and shows her preferences loud and clear!

She is now on solids (and has been a while) and LOVES her food.  We started off on baby rice and porridge and moved onto purees (fruit and veg). She hasn’t refused anything yet. She’s now eating finger foods too and likes melon, avocado, toast, scrambled eggs etc. and I love cooking stuff for her and watching her taste it.  The dogs are being very good hoovers after she has eaten too and particularly like cleaning up banana pancakes and cheese on toast! She’s still a big milk fan, although sometimes the world is way too interesting and she’d rather be watching/doing and then we end up with a Milk Emergency!

Flic can roll around and crawl backwards and loves her jumperoo and walker.  She is starting to go forwards in her walker (after initially only being able to go backwards!)  and finds the whole thing hilarious.  She loves watching (terrorising) the animals and loves stroking them (under supervision).

We both love going to baby yoga and on playdates with her baby friends. She also likes baby sensory classes and our walks round the park with the dogs.

Sleepwise, she had been doing roughly 6-6, but she’s a bit all over the place at the moment. She’s decided she would like to do an extra night feed (which she HAD dropped at 3-4 months old!) again.  She’s in her own room where she loves the space of the big cot but every now and then I bring her back into her cot in our room when she’s having a bad night to save me being up and down like a yoyo…last night she refused to go down in her own room so I put her back in the Next To Me and she did half 12 to half 6. Napwise, there is just no real routine.  She sleeps in the sling after her breakfast and when we are both dressed and has a longer nap sometimes after her dinner.  It depends on what we are doing. She normally has that nap on me or in the pushchair or the car if we are out. She doesn’t like to nap in the cot. If I manage to get her in the sling in time, I get stuff done. If not, I enjoy a snuggle and a bit of TV time. Baby snuggles are the best ❤

Some days I get tired and past it and cry.  Those days pass. It doesn’t mean I love her any less; it just means I am knackered and can’t see the wood for the trees.  Mothering is constant and there’s no such thing as Time Out.

But all in all, becoming a Mother is the best thing that has ever happened to me and such a privilege. I love watching Felicity growing and developing into such a wonderful little girl. But I will never forget ‘the struggle’.  It has made me who I am now, and most probably shaped me as a Mother.

Here are a few pictures of her taken during the last few months:

 

A day in the life on maternity leave

A day in the life on maternity leave

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m really really not complaining about maternity leave. It is the best (yet most intense) ‘job’ I’ve ever done in my life. The reward is amazing – I get to spend time with my wonderful little girl who delights me every day. But some might (mistakenly) think it’s a cushty number where one sits around  cooing at their baby whilst drinking tea and eating cake with other cushty people who are also on maternity leave whilst getting (a small amount of) maternity pay for doing so.  Mums are on duty 24/7, they literally never stop for a second,  yet get a pretty bad press. This is an example of one of my days on maternity:

1am – The baby wakes up coughing.  I wonder to myself if she will resettle or I should just go and make her a bottle now.

1.20am – The baby didn’t resettle and is grumbling. I go to make her a bottle then change her nappy.  She smiles at me when I pick her up and giggles whilst I change her nappy. Cute ❤

1.50am – The baby has been fed and burped.  I attempt to go back to sleep which takes around 20 minutes or so.

6am – The baby wakes up and starts chattering to herself. It takes me a bit longer this time to rouse myself into a state where I can make a bottle (but I obviously do). The baby smiles at me as I lift her out of her cot, drinks her milk then we both go back to sleep when she is winded.

7.30am – The baby wakes up coughing (I hate this cough – it is lingering on and it really bothers her at night/early morning. The doctor said it was viral and should clear up in 10 days…).  I pick her up and pat her back and she projectiles stuff (milky mucus/mucusy milk?) all down my back…I clean us both up and then chat to her in bed for a while.

8.30am – I take the baby into the lounge and put her in her chair.  I make myself some breakfast and she watches me eat every mouthful. I am loving this phase she is having where she loves watching me eat – because I get to eat and she is entertained by it!

9am – I’ve just got dressed (well sort of dressed if tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt count) so I wrap the baby up warm and strap her to me in the front carrier, put leads on our two dogs and take them all for a walk.  The baby falls asleep in the carrier pretty much instantly but did wake up and have a little grumble a couple of times on our walk. Mostly when I shout the dog’s names, which is par for the course.  Her first word will probably be “Dog1getoutthemudnow”.

9.45am – I get in the house, shot the dogs (nicely) in the kitchen, take the baby out of her carrier and de-layer her a bit.  I put her down in her basket, go into kitchen, clean mud off the pesky labrador, take their leads off, prepare breakfast for the animals (including mixing in copious amounts of medication for the cocker spaniel who has an inoperable tumour), sort doggy drinking water and make a bottle for the baby.

10am -Still in my scuzzy dog-walking clothes, I feed the baby and burp her. She normally naps around this time so I put her down in her cot in the bedroom. I can hear her talking to herself on the monitor but she normally talks herself to sleep so I leave her to it. So I then go into mad crazy lady mode as I have NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE HERE TO DO EVERYTHING!!! So I:

  • Wash and sterilise bottles
  • Take washing out of washing machine (mostly bibs and muslins..)
  • Fold said washing and split it into his, her, baby clothes
  • Put another load of washing on
  • Put washing away
  • Have a quick tidy round
  • Put three different types of eye drops into the poorly dog’s eyes
  • Make a cup of coffee (the first of the day – which I may or may not get to drink but it’s a start getting to make one…)
  • Sort online banking/life admin.  Send a few emails. Order a mattress and sheets for travel cot.
  • Pack bag for baby sensory.  Today is the Christmas party and there is a photographer there with a really good deal (£25 for 4 photos and a CD with all the photos see takes on.)  If she happens to vom all over the Christmas clothes I put her in, I’d like her to have other spare Christmas clothes in her bag!!

10.45am – I can hear her still talking to herself – but she’s being a bit more grumpy and shouty about it so I go to her.  She’s obviously not in the mood to nap this morning…so I go in the bedroom and chat to her and entertain her a bit while I get changed out of my scuzzy tracksuit bottom and t-shirt.  I did hope for a shower this morning, but not sure I can quite get away with her being entertained for long enough for that to happen today. I discover all my leggings are in the wash (probably covered in milk) so grab a pair of maternity jeans I had piled up ready to be stored away and hope I can get away with them for the day. At least they are clean even if I am no longer up the duff. And my t-shirt and cardigan are clean and fit properly anyway so my ensemble will do…I spray some dry hair shampoo in, wipe foundation onto my eyebags and put some eyeshadow on. It’s an attempt at makeup anyway…I have no idea where my lipstick is (probably in the nappy bag which is where everything ends up!)

11am –  I change the baby’s nappy and put her cute Christmas outfit on.  She loves being on the changing mat and giggles the entire time.

11.35am – We are now in the lounge and I go and make her a bottle for baby sensory. Then I pick her up for a cuddle and she falls asleep instantly – right before we are due to leave.  I enjoy a cuddle with her for 10 minutes.

11.45am – I put her into the carseat. She screams as if I have murdered her. Gather up baby, put coat on/scarf etc, locate keys, grab phone and nappy bag and leave house. She forgets about said murdering as soon as we get in the car.

12.25am – I arrive at baby sensory. I struggle to get parked as per usual. I take the baby into the building and begin queuing nicely for photographer lady.  The baby pukes on my cardigan.  I wipe it off and feel glad it’s my cardigan and not her cute Christmas outfit. I grab a muslin and chuck a MASSIVE bib over the top of her outfit. I get to the front of the photography queue to be told the photographer will resume taking photos of babies during the break. I think to myself “Youvegottobefreakingkiddingmeshellhavepukedonherselfbythenandivejustqueuedforever” and go and sit down for The Hello Song. The baby makes it fairly obvious she would rather I fed her instead.  I give her half her bottle and then go and resume waving maracas and pom poms in my baby’s face.

1pm – I resume The Queue for photographs.  Each person gets 6 photos taken and we get to choose the 4 best ones.  For some reason she only takes 5 of my baby.  Also she invites some mums to get in the photos with the baby.  She didn’t ask me – she must have thought I hadn’t made much of an effort with my appearance today. Tut.

1.15pm – Once the photos are taken, I give the baby the other half of her bottle – she can puke as much as she likes now.  At the end of the session, there is free prosecco and christmassy food and we can choose our photos.  I dither a bit about the photos.  How can I possibly say “No, I don’t like that one” about any photos of my baby????? I eventually choose which one I don’t like (as much), pay the lady and go and get my prosecco.  None left. Seriously. I am disgusted by this and grab a Bucks Fizz instead and piece of Christmas cake.  There is no easy way of holding both food/drink items and a 4 month old baby, so I down the Bucks Fizz in one (please don’t judge me) eat the cake in two bites and then start layering up the baby to go home.

2.30pm – We eventually leave and I make my way to the Baby Clinic.  We haven’t been before as the baby was weighed at the doctors not that long ago. I park up, walk to the clinic and take a number in the Waiting Room.  The baby is asleep (she is always shattered after baby sensory) so is most unimpressed to be taken out of her pram.  Everyone stares. (Yes she’s a baby, she cries – I really haven’t done anything bad to her) I tell the assembled staring people that she was asleep and I had to wake her up – I have no idea why I do that rather than just tell them to Bog Off. She soon cheers up once she is inside the clinic and laid on a changing mat as I start stripping her off and she starts to laugh (I love my weirdo daughter!). She now weighs 12lbs and is in the same percentile as she was when she was born which they were happy with.  I chat to the Health Visitor for a bit and they tell me to come back in a month (unless I am worried by anything before then).

3.30pm – We arrive home.  I start sterilising the bottles I’ve used today and put bibs/muslins/her Christmassy outfit in the washing pile.  By this time, it’s pretty obvious she could do with another bottle and a bit of a nap to be honest. I make her bottle and feed her. Halfway through the bottle, it becomes apparent that she has done a rather nasty number two.  I take her to her room and a complete change of clothes is required so I stick her in a new outfit of a vest and onesie. After she is cleaned up, I take her back to the lounge but she’s not interested in the rest of her bottle, she seems too tired so I put her down in her basket and she pretty much falls straight to sleep. I realise I haven’t eaten since the weetabix this morning so I make myself a cheese sandwich and a cup of coffee.  I sit down and eat and drink – hurrah!!!! I put more drops into the dog’s eyes (3 different types again) while my hands are free.

5pm – The dogs make it pretty obvious that it’s their tea-time so I sort bowls out and feed them and let them out for wees/poos etc. Soon after, the baby wakes so I sit her on my knee and we have a good chatter/giggle. Then she starts getting moany and as she didn’t finish her last bottle, I make her another.  She drinks all of it except 1-2oz.

5.50pm – It’s pretty much approaching her bedtime but she’s in such an active and LOUD mood that I wonder if she’s going to go to sleep! I take her down to our room anyway and change the sheet and find her a clean sleeping bag.  We have our nighttime chatter and I give her a cuddle and a kiss and turn on her slumber buddy.  I say “Night Night” and walk out.  I go in the lounge and I can hear her chatting to herself on the monitor.

6.00pm – I can hear her chatter turn into crying so I go in with the last of her bottle.  She drinks another oz , has a cuddle and looks really sleepy so I try and put her down again. This time is much more successful and she goes to sleep. Yay!

6.10pm – I realise I am starving hungry and haven’t had tea and am due out in 10 minutes.  I grab a piece of bread and eat it as it is and leg it out of the house, leaving Hubby in charge of the Sleeping Baby.

7.45pm – I get home and look in on the baby. She is fast asleep and looking ever so cute. I sterilise bottles and make myself an egg sandwich, scoff it and let the dogs out for a wee.

8.30pm -I decide that, actually, I’m just knackered.  So I make myself a cup of tea, locate a pack of jelly babies and go and sit in bed (and write this blog). I would normally sort out some washing at this point, but I can’t be bothered tonight. I reckon I’ll be fast asleep by 10.30pm.

And this is her in her cute Christmas outfit:

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A blog to my pregnant self

A blog to my pregnant self

So, since I had our baby 15 and a half weeks ago, I have managed to write about 3.5 blogs.  One about giving birth (and even then I didn’t really finish the story…), a couple about Awareness Weeks and just a little one (hence the 0.5) about the fact she was here.

When I was pregnant, I had no idea where I was going to go with this blog and so vowed to ‘Stop Blogging’.  I didn’t want my blog, which essentially was about our journey to pregnancy, to turn into a ‘Mummy Blog’. So, I still don’t know where I’m going with it but I know I don’t really want to stop blogging. Sometimes it’s hard to shut me up…

Lately, I’ve been thinking about being pregnant.  It was such an amazing time, growing a little life but it really did scare the living daylights out of me.  Not because I was scared of Motherhood (although that was a bit scary) – but I worried about whether things would actually be OK and it would actually happen for us. I do wish I could go back and tell myself that it was all going to be alright and to enjoy it just a little bit more. I have no idea if it will happen to me again, so I do wish I could go back and savour those little kicks and punches and stroke my bump just one more time.

So there’s a bunch of other stuff I would tell my pregnant self – on a more practical note:

Pregnancy and giving birth

  • Giving birth is the most amazing experience ever.  Don’t worry yourself about it – your instincts will just take over and you’ll do OK. Take heaps of photos (not you – The Husband, nurses, whoever you can con into it) of before, after, during if you can bear it (but not of ‘those parts’ – it really doesn’t matter that you look like crap and have been awake for 72 hours. You’ll be high on drugs, so you won’t remember that much about it afterwards…)
  • Don’t bother reading loads of birthing books.  Your time is way better spent sleeping/eating pizza etc. Read just one if you must and cry your way through a few episodes of One Born Every Minute – but I really don’t know if Giving Birth is something you can really prepare for. That Water Birth you thought you’d have.  It won’t happen.
  • Enjoy those maternity clothes and show off that bump. It is, afterall, the only time you’ll want to emphasize your stomach. Afterwards you’ll have squat all to wear that fits so embrace it.  Afterall, you’re really not a celebrity that just ‘pings’ back into shape.
  • Get your bag packed early (you did – well done!) and pack loads of food in it!!! Don’t forget a flannel etc.  – that first shower after childbirth is like the most amazing thing EVER.

Being a ‘Mum’

  • Breast isn’t necessarily best.  Feeding your child is best with whatever works for you and them.  If the whole breast-feeding thing doesn’t work out (which in this case it really, really didn’t – a story probably for another blog and another day…), you tried and what is important most of all is a healthy child.
  • Everyone has an opinion.  Don’t listen as you will drive yourself potty.  (Unless you have specifically asked for advice from someone you trust, then listen obviously). You will also hear the following over and over: (Disclaimer – if you have said this to me, I am just taking the mick really, and I’m not annoyed with you. And this list is just a small selection of The Beauties I have heard in the last 15 weeks)

* Is she sleeping? (Well, yes, they all sleep – just not always when people think they should)

*Is she a good girl? (No, whilst we think she’s asleep in her cot, she’s out parading around town in her mini skirt and crop top)

*Ooh she’s crying – is she hungry/tired/teething/nappy needs changing? (I don’t know, I’d not thought of any of those things)…

*You need to sleep when the baby’s sleeping (Come on now, if i’ve heard this once – I’ve heard it a zillion times. This is only possible if the baby will go down in their cot for naps – and for longer than 10 minutes at that…) And if they actually do go down for their naps, this is the time to MENTALLY sort and put away washing, put another load on (invariably muslins, bibs, 3,000 vests and sleepsuits…), wash and sterilise bottles, wee, poo, shower, get dressed yourself, google any ailments you suspect your child has, read blogs, browse social media (probably uploading 3 million photos of your gorgeous baby in 16 different poses), sort any pets eating and toileting needs, do any life admin that you are WAY behind on and maybe, just maybe if you are lucky and the small child stays asleep long enough – have a HOT cup of coffee.  Sleep is for when the child goes to school, surely.

  • Get a good box set/sky package/lend lots of DVDs.  There will be days when you are glued to the sofa.  Baby snuggles and cuddles/feeding is great but you might as well watch something good at the same time.
  • Get clued up on the good baby drugs.  Calpol for a temperature.  Teether granules and Anbesol for teething.  Snufflebabes and saline drops for colds.  Stock up and never have them not on your person (or at least in the nappy bag).
  • Always have the nappy bag stocked and ready to go (and on that note, start preparing for Leaving the House an hour before being due anywhere.  Your child will invariable decide to have a sick/poo accident before you leave the house and you might as well only be a little late, rather than a lot late…)
  • If you try and sneak the baby out of the house asleep, the next door neighbour WILL appear, stick her head in the pram and bellow ‘HOW IS SHE?’ and wake her up so don’t bother trying.  The pram/car gets her to sleep in 2 seconds flat, although she will try to make out that you are murdering her as you put her in it.
  • That carseat is heavy, even without The Baby in it.  Alternate arms or your muscles will end up lopsided.
  • Everything is ‘Just a Phase’.  Colic, the not being able to do a thing because the baby will not be Put Down. The refusal to sit in the Bouncer chair. (Or anywhere else except on you for that matter). That sling you bought in pregnancy and paraded round the house with Fozzy Bear in, will be a lifesaver so you can do something other than be glued to the sofa. And before you know it, they will happily sit in their chair/go in their basket and you’ll miss those newborn snuggles.
  • Learn how to use the Travel System before The Birth. Or you may end up crying in IKEA carpark on an old couple, whose granddaughter ends up googling how to help you dismantle the carseat from the trolley bit.  Just saying.
  • Go through the next size up clothes earlier than you think.  Some clothing brands make their sizes a little smaller – or if you have gone Nearly New, the previous owner may have shrunk them a bit in the dryer.  Then you’ll get as much wear out of them as possible.
  • Leave the house everyday.  Otherwise you may drive yourself potty – and you may drive The Baby potty too.  Even if just for a walk in the park or a coffee in a cafe for a change of scenery.
  • Talk to other mums.  They will tell you that they feel the same and are experiencing similar things and you will feel sane again. Even though people may think you just sit around and drink tea and eat cake on Maternity Leave, those chats are invaluable.  And cake contains sugar.  Sugar gives you energy.  Enough said.

There’s probably a million other things I would say to my pregnant self, but right now, I need to go and fold muslins…

(Disclaimer 2 : Most of this is tongue in cheek and I love Motherhood and my daughter 200% )

Here’s a few pictures of our daughter since I last posted…

 

 

 

 

 

 

National Fertility Awareness Week

National Fertility Awareness Week

I’ve been meaning to write this post all week, and may actually get it finished before the end of the week. Why? Because my 12 week old baby has kept me busy this week! Clock changes, injections, general babyness.

You may think, why am I writing a post about Fertility Awareness when I have a baby now – I’ve ‘beaten’ my infertility so to speak.

Well, that’s just it. Infertility, and its effects and impacts, never leaves you – even when all you’ve ever wanted (a precious baby) is here.

No, I’m not being ungrateful, nor am I being greedy here. That one job that the female human body is designed to do – mine failed me. The power of science and the power of prayer gave me my lovely Felicity.  I haven’t ‘beat’ infertility.

I don’t want Felicity to grow up alone. I want her to have a sibling(s). I have kind of made peace with the fact that may not happen. Apart from the annoyingness of strangers (including a random in the hairdressers…) asking me if I’m going to have more children. Friends, I’m willing to answer that question to. Yes, I’d dearly love that to happen. But I also know that it may not. In thinking about more children, it means our fertility journey is far from over. We have one frozen embryo that we will be going back for at some point. I’m not stupid enough to think that it will definitely ‘take’. People say to me, including Health Visitors who tried to get me on contraception after F was born, ‘Oh you’ll probably get pregnant naturally’ (the whole being fertile after pregnancy thing). Well, I’m not counting on it…but watch this space, as this Fertility ‘Fight’ is far from finished.

And just to finish, a few things not to say to those 1 in 6 people fighting their own fertility battles:

Maybe it’s not meant to be

It’ll happen when the time’s right

Maybe it’s not God’s will for you to have children

Why don’t you ‘just’ adopt?

Have you thought about fostering instead?

You’re so lucky – at least you can have a full night’s sleep/go out and get drunk/go on holiday etc

Have my child/children for a day. It’ll soon put you off

Stop stressing. My friend’s next door neighbour’s cousin’s best friend’s niece got pregnant as soon as she stopped trying/went on holiday/relaxed.

Basically this week is all about sharing our stories. Mine in a nutshell is 5 years of Unexplained Infertility, 2 IVFs, one miscarriage, one precious, precious 12 week old baby.

Baby loss awareness week

Baby loss awareness week

footprint

While I was in the second half of my pregnancy, I didn’t want to blog. In fact, I took most of my blog down. I had nothing to really say.  Because I was just playing a waiting game to see if my pregnancy would work out and I could give birth to a real life baby. Being pregnant after a miscarriage is pretty scary stuff and I think only now I have Felicity here, I realise just how scared I was.

However, now, I’m sat here typing with one hand with my 9 week old rainbow baby, fast asleep, snoring beautifully in my arms. The precious little baby conceived via IVF after I miscarried our first baby. Some things are important enough to break your self imposed blogging ban. Baby Loss awareness week is one of them. Baby loss and miscarriage is one of those taboo subjects people just don’t talk about and it gets swept under the carpet – and this week is about removing that taboo. People are encouraged to share and tell their stories, which can help ‘release’ some of the grief and make people feel just that bit less alone and isolated in their experience.

Our miscarriage was a year and 3 months ago (exactly tomorrow – the date is ingrained in my brain) and I still think about her.  The grief at the time was so intense.  Now, as time has gone on – I am able to talk about that pregnancy and our loss just a bit more easily and think of it more as part of our journey to here. Saying that, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make me sad, or make me wonder what she would have been like, or who she would have turned into . But not a day goes by when I don’t think of how much she changed me and I’m utterly, utterly grateful for being her mother for the 12 weeks that I carried her.

Miscarriage and Baby Loss Awareness Week (9th – 15th October) ends with a ‘Wave of Light’ at 7pm on 15th (This Saturday).

wave-of-light

Last year, we lit two candles for an hour – Our special Ellie candle and another for our friends who have lost little ones. I’ll be doing the same this year. Please join in and light a candle on Saturday at 7pm.

The Birth Story…(part 1)

The Birth Story…(part 1)

So, 4 weeks to the day of having our little girl, I’m finally getting round to writing down The Birth Story…

The week before I had our little girl, I went into antenatal with stomach pains and some other symptoms I wanted to get checked out. It turned out I had an infection but whilst I was there, they discovered my blood pressure was through the roof and I had protein in my urine.  While I was in as an outpatient, my blood pressure gradually returned to normal and they let me go home, to return in two days.

When I went back, my blood pressure was still high and I still had protein in my urine but I was told to return in four days, unless I had any worrying symptoms in the meantime – in which case I needed to immediately return to antenatal.

Anyhow, the following day I woke up with a banging and persistent headache and on checking my own blood pressure and finding it to be crazily high, I phoned up the hospital and they told me to come in immediately.  After a few hours of being monitored, a doctor came in and said I was at risk of preeclampsia and I was going to be induced.  I was like ‘when?’ they were like ‘now’! At this point I was 38 weeks and totally ready to meet our baby but this set me into a bit of a blind panic and I had a bit of a cry on the midwife.  Hormones have a lot to answer for sometimes!

So, to cut a long story short, they gave me a sweep there and then and discovered I was 1cm and able to have the pessary to induce labour.  Husband went and got mine and the baby’s bags and brought them to the hospital.  Operation ‘look after, feed and walk our dogs’ was set up amongst our nearest and dearest friends. Husband made an emergency trip to Tesco and appeared back with lots of yummy food and a teddy bear! ❤

Not a lot happened that night after the first pessary.  I had terrible prostin pains and didn’t sleep till 5am. In that time I was given paracetamol (did nothing), used the birthing ball, used my TENS machine (helped it some) and finally at about 4am, I asked for stronger drugs. They took away the pain and sent me to sleep for a couple of precious hours.

The next day, hubby turned up early and again, not a lot happened.  The pessary I’d had was a 24 hour one and I’d already been checked and it had done naff all – I was still 1cm dilated.  We spent the day crocheting and bouncing around on the ball (me) and watching stuff on the tablet (him). They decided they were going to give me a 6 hour pessary at teatime and then break my waters when I was dilated enough – if they didn’t break by itself.

Anyhow, the second pessary did the trick.  I started having contractions later on that night.  I won’t go into it all too much but they pretty much knacked.  I had a cry on a (different) midwife who gave me paracetamol (which again did naff all), whacked up the TENS machine, bounced around on the birthing ball and then finally begged for stronger drugs.  Two minutes after taking the stronger tablets, I stood up and vommed all over my hospital room, all over myself and all over the birthing ball (nice).  So the tablets were pretty much a waste of time…

The midwife said she’d get me some gas and air instead which was just amazing and I finally got a bit of sleep in between contractions – which by now were coming every 4-5 minutes.

At 7.30am on the Monday morning, my waters broke and my contractions slowed down to every 10 minutes.  Husband was back by now and not long after that they broke my other waters with the thing that looks like a knitting needle (only one set had gone – I forget which as it’s all very hazy, that Gas and Air is crazy stuff).  They took me down to the Labour Suite shortly after – taking my precious G & A off me for the journey down which was hellish.

The rest of the day is very hazy.  Hubby could probably tell the story way better than me.  I was reunited with the gas and air and also asked for a shot of diamorphine – which was AMAZING!  They put me on the drip to make my contractions come closer together too. I was watching the numbers go up and up and up on the contractions monitor and not feeling a thing during some of them!  Husband said I was sleeping inbetween contractions! However, when the diamorphine wore off, I was feeling those contractions again…!

A bit later, during one of the contractions, I felt an urge to push and upon being checked, they found I was 9cm dilated.  The pushing bit was hard.  The diamorphine had worn off and I couldn’t use the G & A and push too…so I was pretty much on my own. They also found that because I’d not been able to have a wee all day (I just had no urge to empty my bladder at all!) that my bladder was full and needed emptying as the baby’s head was struggling to get past my full bladder!  They had to do this twice before the baby was eventually born as I’d had loads of water and was also on a fluid drip. After a while of pushing, I was being a bit of a pain in the arse and shouting that I couldn’t do it and they had to help me  GET THIS BABY OUT!! Hubby told me to stop saying I couldn’t do it, because I was doing it!!

After a bit, a doctor popped in as my blood pressure was through the roof at this point and I’d had to take 4 beta blockers.  Anyhow she suggested something different – they got me into stirrups and had Husband pushing my chin to my chest.  One contraction later, Hubby could see the head and he shouted out ‘She’s got our hair colour!!!’ (We are both dark blonde) .  Another contraction later and the head was out – followed by the body and at 6.15pm, our little girl was placed on my chest.

We named her Felicity (which means Total Happiness) and she is seriously the bestest thing that has ever happened to us.

I didn’t have the birth I’d envisioned.  There was no water birth or moving around and using the birthing ball due to being induced. I was on a bed and hooked up to various monitors. The pain was hellish.  But I don’t care.  I’d do it all 16x over to have our wonderful daughter.

I wasn’t well immediately after the birth but I’ll save that story for another day.  For now, I’ll add some piccies of our precious bundle:

 

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