Today you became one month old. And what a month it has been!
Saturday April 16th 2011. Me and your dad had a BBQ, and over 30 people ended up turning up! It helps that we both have so many friends, and also that Uncle Perry has a very big mouth, so you can imagine the state that the house might have been in. The BBQ finally ended at 2am, and
me & Dad climbed into bed absolutely exhausted. There had been much joking throughout the day, as you were due on Sunday 17th April, and some people joked that they expected a call later on to tell them that I had gone into labour. I was adamant that wouldn’t be the case, as I felt completely fine and hadn’t displayed any signs at all.
After going to bed I noticed that I had a mean bit of backache, but put it down to the fact that I had been really busy all day. Three hours later, I was still hurting and to top it off I seemed to have lost control of my bladder as well. But it soon became clear that it wasn’t my bladder that was leaking – it was amniotic fluid.
We called the labour ward, who told us not to rush, but to head up just to be checked over, so we gathered the many bags for you, and were on our way. They confirmed I was in labour,
and sent us home as the contractions, that had by now started, were too few and
far between. Luckily, we have good pals in the form of Donna, Karen, Liam, Casimitr and Camilla, who had pulled together and tidied the leftovers of the BBQ while we were gone. Priorities being priorities, we also stopped off in the hospital café for a cheeky fry up before returning home. It’s different, sitting there chowing down on bacon in between contractions. Just be glad you’re a boy.
The rest of Sunday daytime is pretty much a blur, as the contractions intensified and Claire and Dawn joined us for the evening. I do, however, remember the Pizza and Mcdonalds that I insisted on eating before heading to the hospital yet again.
Eleven at night, and we were back in the hospital. Seventeen hours of labour, and the midwives told me that I wasn’t dilated at all. I can’t tell you I wasn’t exactly your friend at that moment in time. But then things got going. Between 12 and 4am, I dilated to 8 cms, and then from 4 to 8am I dilated to 9cm. I can’t describe to you how awful the pain was. It’s the most intense pain that starts in your lower back and soon sweeps throughout your entire abdomen. Don’t let me be hearing any of these jokes that you boys find funny, like how a kick in the balls hurts more. You try being kicked in the balls every three minutes for 33 and a half hours and see how you feel then! Excruciating though it is, as soon as a contraction subsides, you don’t hurt anymore. What’s harder is the tiredness, as by 8 am, I had been in labour for 26 hours. It was at this point that I had the urge to push, but because I was only at 9cm, I was told not to. This is hard, as your body literally starts to do as it bloody well likes! The only way I can think to describe it is that
it is similar to when you have the really, really bad case of diarrhoea (I’m guessing by now you know what that feels like, especially if Dad has had to cook for you). Your stomach muscles just contract no matter how much you try to stop them, even when you’ve pooed your spleen up.
That’s exactly what happened (without the spleen). So because of this, the midwives administered an epidural so that I wouldn’t feel the urge anymore to prevent me from the
tearing the old ladygarden (I’m sure you wanted to hear that).
The next seven hours dragged by, with everyone waiting for me to progress through that last final centimetre. I should probably point out at this stage that the people at the hospital had increased from Dawn, Donna and Claire to your Nan Jean, Cousins Becky and Vicky, Grandad Mark, Uncles Mark and Jack. It was then that the doctors decided that it was unlikely I was going to progress any further, and my contractions were stopping, so I needed an emergency caesarean. Even after 33 hours of labour, the thought of having a caesarean terrified me.
I had ideas of what a caesarean involved, and the thought of a horrid scar and not being able to do anything for two weeks meant that the very suggestion of it made me flip into the crazy, screaming banshee beast that I am sure by now you have experienced for something or another. But the doctors explained that you were too big to fit through that last centimetre so I had no option. Therefore it is your fault. Forever. Now bring me chocolate boy.
The operation began at 15:33, and you were born at 15:36, weighing 8 pounds 10 ounces. You see that? Cut me open like a fish they did, just because of your big head. I hope you appreciate the lengths I went to, to get you here, and afterwards, in the way of finding hats that fitted. Those three minutes, and the 30 minutes after stitching me back together were by far the worst moments of my life so far. It
was completely traumatising, and for weeks afterwards I couldn’t talk about it without crying. Feeling absolutely everything that is going on is utterly horrific, and I will never forget or get
over it. Hence why you do not have any biological siblings. I know I can write that with confidence now and have you read this in twenty years and it will still be the same. All of these silly people who tell me ‘you’ll forget it all’ and ‘you can’t just have one’… YOU FRIGGIN WATCH ME. Just because they were all stupid, and ridiculously forgetful, does not mean that I will be.
No siree, the rest of your brothers and sisters, if ever there are any, will either be bastard lovechildren of your fathers with another woman, or kids we’ve picked up along the way because they’ve needed us. None shall spring forth from these here loins. You got that?! Rant over.
Because I couldn’t, your dad had to be the one who firstly held, dressed and fed you. Afterwards, everybody who had been waiting, some for 13 odd hours, came in to meet you, and there were lots of smiles and tears all round.
The next five days were torturous, as soon after you were born you were diagnosed with jaundice, and we had to remain in hospital. Hospital really isn’t a home from home, and it was very difficult to cope, with you being ill and me being fairly useless as I was also trying to recover. If it wasn’t for your dad, who literally threw himself into every aspect and tried to make it as easy as possible for me, I very well could have lost it. Just don’t tell him that ay? We were eventually allowed home on Friday 22nd April, and it couldn’t have come a day sooner.
The first week that you were home, as you can imagine, was full of visitors. The past month itself has also honestly been the hardest of my life. As much as I thought I was prepared and had experience in it all because of how many aunts and uncles you have, I had no clue just how demanding your own baby could be. It didn’t help that you had colic throughout this time, which means that there have been hours where you have done nothing but scream, and I have
not had a clue what to do with you. I’ve also been fiercely clingy with you, to the point where I am still insisting that you sleep in bed with me and I won’t allow anybody else to have you
unsupervised other than your dad. I know that it’s irrational, as people like your grandparents have offered to take care of you to ease the pressure, but I see it as you are my responsibility,
and especially while you are fractious, its my job to be with you, at least until you are better.
It has been hard, and I have been tired and drained, and sometimes sad and frustrated, but then there are the moments when you have fallen asleep on my chest, or held my hand while I’ve
been feeding you. It has to be said that I love it when you are crying, and you won’t settle down until whoever has tried has given you to me. The fact that you first smiled yesterday, for me,
makes it more than worth it.
Love Mum xxx
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