Wednesday, 11 July 2007

Now, where was I?

Ok, so where was I? BC (Before Campaign) I mean. Hmm, [much drumming of fingers]. Ah yes, I remember. Warbling on about my rather dull life, if memory serves me correctly! Was is summer back then? I think perhaps it was. Soft evenings, a sense of hope and things to come. But we've had the longest day now so it will be Christmas before we know it. Mmm, I can almost smell the mince pies...

Oh, hang on. We're actually still in July, aren't we? Despite it being 10 degrees with a sharp wind whipping grey sheets of rain off the moors. 11th July in fact. The night before my 3rd daughter's birth, 4 years and 364 days ago. I remember waddling down the landing as dawn was breaking, 2 weeks overdue, having relieved my bursting bladder. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and recoiled in horror at the hephalump that loomed out at me. No, this wasn't fun anymore. I wanted it out. Nor could I bear the lonely little beige bunny, 'Welcome to the World' embroidered on it's cream T-shirt, lying patiently in the empty crib beside me. It was starting to haunt me. Making me think that perhaps this baby would never come. Something awful was going to happen before it saw the light of day.

I'd taken a swig of castor oil at bedtime to help move things along. As I climbed back between the sheets, reassuring N that no, this was not 'it' - just a pee break, I contemplated the horrors of being induced at the hospital in just a few hours time. The bag was packed, the parents were in the spare room, ready to hold the fort. I lay my head back down on the pillow and shut my eyes. In the old apple tree beyond the open window the birds were tuning up for the first notes of the dawn chorus. The air was soft, the scents of summer wafting into the room. Then, oooh, what was that. Ouch. OUCH!!! Oh my God, here we go (when they come, they come fast with me). N grabs the phone. Can you get the midwife round - my wife's in labour (planned home birth). What do you mean, there's no-one available? Been a busy night? Told you so, says I between gritted teeth and the odd expletive. The trouble is, when they come so quick, your body can go into shock. So there I was, trying to dress myself at 4.45 in the morning, shaking so hard that I could barely stand. 'This is RIDICULOUS!!' I'd asked them what would happen if the baby came in the middle of the night and there was no-one around to come over. 'Oh, that won't happen - there's always someone.' Oh, yeah, right. So I staggered down stairs and into the car. Could barely sit, let alone walk. I'll spare you the rest of the details - many a woman has done childbirth. Suffice to say that, after a longer than anticipated spell in the hospital loo - since contractions prevented my from raising myself from the seat - this little black haired creature finally made it to the outside world, 45 minutes after the birds started singing. I looked at her and instantly fell in love. I hadn't done that with the other two girls before her. Both other births had been so very different, but I won't talk about them right now. No, this is little Louisa's day. Louisa Mary Lucia - born at first light on 12th July 2002. She is upstairs in her little bed right now, cuddling Bunny. Very special Bunny.

I am going to retire to bed too. No castor oil tonight. No exploding bladders. Just the thoughts of a middle aged mother who has to accept that her littlest one is growing bigger every day...

4 comments:

Pipany said...

Hurray! You're back!!!! And what a tale to tell; feel quite qobbly at the memories flooding into my mind of my own babies' arrivals. I had number three as a planned home birth and it was lovely, but no lovelier in its way than any of the others. Good to see you back xx

Eden said...

Oh what a joyful (if alarming) story. And to have a tiny sleeping beautifully in bed to look at on one's own way to bed is sheer heaven.

mountainear said...

Happy Birthday Louisa Mary Lucia (what beautiful names) - you chose to be born at the most beautiful time of day. Clear fresh air and bird song.

You brought back many memories for me too - though in my case - of the panicking husband variety. The journey to hospital was straightforward but why A. decided he'd take hitherto uncharted shortcuts through anonymous housing estates was a mystery. At moments like that a would-be mother's temper gets shorter and shorter and shorter.

DevonLife said...

Ahh lovely. You bought back the memories of my third. I sling 'em out wuickly too.

Midwife refused to believe I was actually in proper labour because I was too calm ("I'm in PR, I talk to idiots all day long, it's my job to be calm"). When I finally persuaded her that I was in labour and perhaps she could check if I was dilated, I shimmied out of my jeans and heard a visible intake of breath as the middy said "Oh nine cm, I think you're ready"

You bet I was ready, out she popped.

Hope you enjoyed the day, X

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...