It was wonderful being pregnant. I loved rubbing my belly and feeling his jabs and kicks in return. My husband would shout at my belly to wake up the baby so he could feel the kicks and movements. We'd talk about how exciting Christmas would be for us (and him in a year or two!) I worked as a nanny and the kids I looked after enjoyed feeling him move and reading him stories or singing songs to the baby. The youngest, 2, would still be carried once in a while and he always thanked the baby for the piggyback after riding on my bump. I loved being pregnant, but I definitely love being able to bend over to tie my shoes again!
On August 13th, almost a week before my due date, my doctor did a membrane sweep to hopefully jump start labour. She also discovered I was 2cm dilated! Sure enough that night I had contractions every 2 hours for about 5 seconds in length. And that continued. For nine days... At basically the same rate.
Four days overdue, on August 22nd, I woke up around 8am with stomach pains and some serious bathroom problems. Then I remembered the part of delivery that no one ever talks about... the diarrhea. And those stomach pains? Oh, those are actual contractions. (The ones I had before then were slightly more than Braxton Hicks but didn't hurt at all.) I went back to bed for a while. I still wasn't 100% sure if was contractions and was trying to not get my hopes up. I told my husband about the possible contractions and he started bugging me to time them. (Seriously, if you have a husband like mine, you are better off just letting them go to work and letting them know you're in labour when it's time to go to the hospital... that's my plan next time!) I timed them and they were regular. For the most part, they were every 5 minutes and about 15 seconds in length.
Around 2:30pm I called the maternity ward to talk to a nurse. My prenatal instructor and the hospital tour said to not bother coming in until you've talked with a nurse on the phone. According to the nurse I wasn't having strong enough contractions yet (they talk with you during a few of them to gauge how much they hurt) to be admitted but they were willing to do an exam to double check if I wanted to go in. My husband came and picked me up and we went to the hospital where the nurse did an internal exam and announced I was 5cm along and that yes, I would be staying. She was shocked I was in labour at all, apparently I was coping well.
My husband, mom and I walked the hospital corridors for a couple hours. I was still going to the bathroom constantly and around 5pm I made a mad dash to the bathroom and had my water break, thankfully while above the toilet... When they say you'll know when your water breaks, they mean it. It literally felt like a water balloon popped up there. I was a bit embarrassed to have to walk through the hospital to get back up to maternity after that because I was paranoid I was leaking (I kept looking behind me, I wasn't, thank goodness)
The contractions started coming on faster and stronger at that point so I stayed close to my birthing room, to my nurses relief. By about 7cm I was too tired to walk and sat in bed. Each contraction came fast and hard. I ended up going into the shower with my husband massaging me to help with the pain since I was determined to do it naturally, if possible.
At 8pm I kept feeling like I had to push. My nurse kept telling me I wasn't dilated enough. And if you're like me and heard many stories about rips and tears, you are a bit nervous about pushing too early. I kept telling her I had to push so she finally said I could. She didn't check my dilation so I was paranoid and wouldn't push until she checked to see if I was far enough dilated.
I was, so I started pushing. One nurse kept telling me to stop making so much noise when I pushed.. I wanted to smack her. She was trying to be helpful and tell me to use that energy to push not make noise but at the time, I was furious! My husband had to reassure me that I could do this after I was in tears a few times hoping that I would pass out so I wouldn't have to go through any more of that... And then the contraction would pass and I would think "Bring on the next one, that was nothing!" And then came the next one, and the doubt again.
My doctor came in around then and said she was just checking on me before she went to have dinner. She checked and excused herself... Came back in record timing in her delivery gown. So much for dinner, I guess!
My baby boy was born about 10 minutes later at 8:36pm. He cried and fussed for a moment and within 5 minutes they had him latched on and eating while the doctor gave me one stitch. My husband held his first baby ever (he's never held a baby other than ours) and the grandmas came in from their guard posts in the hallway.
I got to shower shortly after and was thrilled to be on my feet. I was more than willing to go home that night if they would have let the baby come too, haha. We were discharged the next day but had to wait until 8:30pm for the weigh in and blood sample collection.
My son is now 7 weeks old. He is smiling back at us (and if we make a sad face, he will 'cry' but we are pretty sure that it's a fake cry!) We have been getting out of the house every day since we got home, even if it was just a walk around the garden in our complex. I've made many mommy friends and attended lots of baby drop-ins to keep us busy and active (and to keep me sane since I need adults to talk to during the day!) My husband took two weeks off work after the birth and has returned to work since. We have family evenings where we all snuggle up on the couch and watch TV.
Baby is exclusively breastfed and very demanding when it comes to feeding him, haha. We were hoping he would take a bottle (just once in the evening so I could get a solid 5+ hours of sleep) but he refuses bottles and soothers. Oh well! I enjoy snuggling him... Even at 3am. And again at 5am. And then usually around 6:30am!
I've yet to be able to detach the imaginary umbilical cord. I find it incredibly hard to leave him for any amount of time. It's not that I don't trust him with other people. it's that I can't bear to be away from him. I think that's mostly just because of his sporadic hunger (sometimes he will just eat and then decide he's starving again) and the fact he won't take a bottle so it's up to me to fill his need to eat. I have only left him once, for 20m, at the dentist. And my husband was in the waiting room with him. I was terrified he would be hungry and need to eat and I wouldn't be there for him... He slept the whole time and didn't even miss me!
During one of the last contractions before I began pushing, my husband asked me "When are we going to have a second one?" That was the only time I swore during labour/delivery. I said a great big "F__ you" (I never swear, so he found it quite funny) But thinking back to that question... I don't know. I really lucked out with this pregnancy/delivery that I don't think I would want to risk tainting the wonderful memories and ending up with one of those horror stories people tell you about! But who knows... We always thought of us only having one, but we've put the newborn clothes away in storage. Just in case.
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