Just GET OUT! My Birth Story

I'm a tad late posting this, but the beautiful ladies at The Lounge gave us the prompt 'Midwife' for this week, so fate was telling me the time had come! I wish I’d done this back in August, or September, or anytime around when Diddy was born, but I seem to spend so many days either busy with the girls or in a fog of tiredness, and I’m only just now beginning to feel competent to tell the story of how our girl Diddy joined us in the world.

On Sunday 18^th August, 5 days after my due date, I started feeling Braxton Hicks contractions quite strongly at around 4am. I drifted in and out of sleep, determined to have some rest before our new little person joined us and sure it’d be soon. At 7am I woke Husbeast and told him that if the pains kept up, we’d probably have to drop Bozo home early, as I didn’t want to be trying to find him a ride home while we here heading to the hospital. 

Sick of all the messages and calls, I'd been posting daily
Instagram Photos tagged #stillpregnant

That morning, we went for a walk and I kept getting niggly, uncomfortable pains in my lower back so at midday I told Husbeast to call Bozo’s mother and let her know we were on our way. She proceeded to pout, but I didn’t much care. He was leaving for school camp at 6am the next day, so it wasn’t going to matter if he got home early to pack and rest!

On the way home, the pains slowed down and eventually stopped. We’d been in the car for an hour at that stage and I was desperate to move around and get things going – I felt silly having started a fuss if it was a false alarm! I kept getting pains every half hour or so for the rest of the day and went to bed around 9pm. By this stage, I was hoping it’d be another day or so as Boo’s first orientation session at school was the next day and I was scared I’d miss it.

My last Pregnant photo, taken on the Sunday night

Around 3am, the pains started again. I didn’t want to wake Husbeast unless I had to, so between 3am and 5.45 I timed contractions. They were still irregular, but were between 3 and 5 minutes apart and very uncomfortable! At 5.45, I woke Husbeast and asked him to ring the hospital. We live an hour away from where I delivered so I didn’t want to leave things too late. The midwife on duty told Husbeast to stay home but to call if the contractions got regular as it sounded like things were on the move. 

Tired and in pain, I decided it was time to call my Mum just before 7am to come and be with Boo. It wasn’t going to be long. While I rang her, I was hopping into a hot bath and by the time we’d hung up I knew things were happening. It was like a change happened. The next two contractions were much stronger and happened less than 4 minutes apart! I heaved out of the bath and got dressed. As Mum arrived, Husbeast was making porridge for himself and Boo (who’d woken to see what all the fus was about) and Mum watched me leaning over the sofa in pain then announced to Husbeast that it was time to go, my contractions were 3 minutes apart and we still had an hour to travel!

I had a cupful of ice cubes that I crunched while we were in the car. As we were leaving town, I called the hospital to let them know we were coming. The midwife told me to try and stay home as long as possible, and I told her too late, we were on our way.

Halfway to our birthing hospital, I was telling Husbeast to pull over. Our car was old, and seemed to be hitting every bump along the way. My contractions were 2.5 minutes apart and I was scared I’d be giving birth on the roadside in an ’89 Falcon! However, when he asked if I was serious (right as another contraction hit!) I shook my head and we kept going. I know he wanted to stop and call an ambulance, but in our rural area that could have taken much longer than soldiering on.

When we reached the hospital not long before 9am we parked right out the front in the 2hr parking (the only available parking at this hospital) are Husbeast helped me up to the Labour ward. Right as we entered the ward a humungous contraction ripped through me and I knelt down in the corridor. I couldn’t keep going! A Midwife came to us and helped me the last few metres into the birthing suite where I was met by Lisa, my birthing midwife, and Kim, a student midwife. I was Kim’s 17^th birth, she told us as she timed contractions and checked Diddy’s heartbeat. Everything was OK and my contractions were 2 minutes apart, and when checked I was 5cm dilated! After my super long labour with Boo (4 days all up!) I was telling myself it was ages away, so I changed into a nightie and knelt up over the back of the bed with the Gas tube to ride it out.

Husbeast found my TENS machine and got that going on my back and it was like a miracle! I could think again! But the gas was making me loopy, slurry and sick. Kim and Husbeast sat with me while I threw up, and then I lay on my side, cuddling Husbeast and trying to convince myself I had hours to go! 

Not long before 10.30, I told Husbeast I thought I had to push, scared that I was going to be told ‘don’t be silly, you can’t be!’ by the midwives like I was during Boo’s birth. Instead, Lisa told Kim ‘never ignore a Mum who says she’s ready to push’ and gave me a quick check. Yes, I was 10cm, time to go!

Still flashing back to Boo’s birth, I was sure it’d be hours of pain and exhaustion. Boo took 2 hours of pushing and ventouse extraction to join us in the world. Regardless, I lay on my side, held Husbeasts hand and pushed as hard as I could, trying my hardest not to scream. During the first push my waters broke from the pressure, hard enough that they hit the wall and just barely missed Lisa as she moved out of the way! Between contractions, I remember being quite relaxed. My little girl would be with us today! After 3 pushes, Lisa and Kim told me they could see the head, but I told them not to get too excited, it’d go away again! The looked at me in confusion and after the next push I explained about Boo. Lisa told me the next push would get the head out and as it came I pushed, begging my little girl to come. After the push, I heard little gurgling sounds. Husbeast and the midwives were giggling – not even fully born and our little girl was chatting! 

My little girl

‘One more Tara, she’s coming!’ I pushed and felt a huge release of tension as Lisa lifted my little person onto my chest. She was here! Our little girl had come to be with us. The relief and exhaustion washed over me as I held my little girl close and smiled.

First Photo of Many!

 Later on, Kim told me she’d come out with one hand above her head which explained a small tear I had which needed stitching. We had a good laugh about that – my baby came out waving and talking, guess she wanted to make a grand entrance! 

I’m glad I finally got a chance to share this birth story. Thanks to the girls at The Lounge for the inspiration - Robomum is hosting this week, pop over and say Hi for me! I’m also sharing this post over at Thankful Thursday with A Parenting Life. I’m so thankful that Diddy’s birth was much shorter and a much more positive experience than Boo’s. My midwives were absolute saints and made everything so breezy, peaceful and happy!

I Have a Dream....

‘...a song to sing. To help me cope with anything’.

Anyone else hear this in their head when they think about having a dream? Especially the Amanda Seyfreid version from Mama Mia. No? Just me then, I guess. Move along, nothing weird here.

This movie is perfect to me, every single time.
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I have a dream occasionally that one day I’ll wake up completely put-together.

You know what I mean, don’t you? Flawless hair, impeccable dress sense and mad skills with makeup, yes. 

But beyond that (and aside from it, really) I dream fervently about being the mum who does it all flawlessly. The mum who breezes out of bed, readies her husband and sends him to work smiling with a belly full of homestyle cookin’ and a lunchbox full of healthy homemade snacks, prepares the kids for school/daycare – again with the excellent food. Cruises to school with all homework complete, helps out in the canteen, comes home and plays with the baby undistractedly for hours. The mum who spends naptime giving her sparklingly clean house a quick once-over and then has a lunch date with friends before going to school pickup and heading home to prepare a thoughtfully planned, nutritionally beneficial meal, clean and tuck in her kids before relaxing with her husband. I dream of doing it all alone, with no snags or flaws, and without tears of pleas for help.

I’m not that mum. If she exists, I want to know about it, because I want to pull her perfectly-coiffed hair and tell her she’s a liar.

This bitch... seriously.
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My dream isn’t going to come true. I’m the mum who isn’t getting out of bed at 5am to get her husband ready for work (seriously, he’s on his own there). I’m the mum fighting the kindergartner to eat her breakfast while the baby flings porridge at my head, at the same time realising we forgot the reader last night and I’ve run out of lunch muffins. I’m the mum who remembers canteen duty 20 minutes before it starts, on a day when I don’t have a babysitter ready. The mum who’s barely left her house in weeks, and hasn’t had a social life in months. I’m the mum who realises at 6pm that she hasn’t defrosted dinner and makes bacon and egg salad, before skipping bathtime and sending the kids to bed so I can have a quick reprieve before the baby wakes.

Maybe if I had animal helpers and a Fairy Godsomeone...
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My heart wishes my kids had the perfect mum. The one who never misses appointments, who reads endless stories every night and who takes them on educationally enriching, yet entertaining trips every weekend. But my head knows the truth about me and the truth about my kids. My head knows that I get to watch them grow, and be their mummy, and that's enough. My head is grateful.

I’m never going to be the put together mum, because it’s not me. I’m the slightly scatty mum wearing yoga pants everywhere. But I’m also the only mum my kids have. I’m the one who kisses their scrapes, smooths away their troubles, plays games with them, cuddles them every single night and generally takes care of them. I’m the one who makes sure they never go hungry, even if occasionally they eat a 2 minute noodle omelette. I’m the one who will always be there. 

I may not be the perfect mum, and how the hell can I be? She’s a myth! But I’m their perfect mum, put together just enough for them. A dream is just a fantasy. I should just be happy I do the best I can. Because in reality? I do OK.

'I'll cross the stream, I have a dream.'

  I'm linking this post with Musings of the Misguided for this week's The Lounge, and also with A Parenting Life for Thankful Thursday. Pop over to visit and find some more fab blogs to read?

Tired of my introspect? Got a question? Want to see a specific post or topic from me? Why not comment below, or send me an email!

Thankful Thursday: My Path

Every day of my life since I found out I was pregnant at 19, I’ve woken up as someone’s mother. I’ve woken up with my priority being my beautiful, bright, wonderful daughter.

I’ve woken up knowing that, no matter what my day may bring, it has a purpose. I’m her role-model, her protector, her occasional antagonist and her friend. I’m the one responsible for her well-being.

I love being a mother. I love that feeling of someone in the world who is mine to love, wholly, unconditionally and without pause. I love the selflessness of maternal love, the complete devotion to my little girl and her happiness and wellbeing.

Urgh.... please excuse the extreme boobage, I thought I was sexy

In my life, I’ve been given opportunities and haven’t always taken them. I turned down an offer to do a degree in teaching and have never, ever regretted that decision. I wasn’t cut out to be a teacher. And in the year I took off when I turned down my university offer, I met O’s father and formed the relationship that brought her to me. I’m not a teacher now, and I don’t get to spend my years ‘moulding young minds’, as it were. But you know what’s better than that? I’m someone’s mum. I’m soon to be someone ELSE’S mum. If I had been a university student, life wouldn’t have happened for me the way it has.

Even when my O is not with me, she is at the forefront of my mind. One or two nights a week, she stays in another house, for sleepovers with her Daddy, but this does not make me any less her mum. On these nights, I often peek in her room to check on her before realising that she isn’t there, or I wake and listen for her breathing. She is always at the forefront of my mind, as children should be to their mothers. 

Photo by the incomparable Jacqui at Miss J Media

 

So today, I’m linking up with Six by the Bay for Thankful Thursday. I’m going to be thankful for the opportunities I didn’t take (and the ones I did) that brought me down the path to motherhood. The path has been difficult at times, full of obstacles and sometimes painful falls. But it is the biggest blessing of my life to be a mother, and if you took me back to 18 and 19 years old, I’d do everything exactly the same (minus a tequila shot or 7)