The Birth of my 3rd. The baby that nearly broke me. physically, emotionally and mentally. Yet the baby I feel I owe the most to. Why do we not talk about the guilt of labour.
You see I had a plan in place. My Dr knew my plan. Mr O knew our plan. My friends and people reading my blog new my plan… So why did it not go to plan?
This was my 3rd labour, surely it would be very similar to the last? Just like my other two labours – It would be early, fast and smooth sailing! Granted my right leg had just come out of a cast and I was trying to remember how to walk (pain free) all over again but I really did assume that this would be the last straw. Everything else would be simple and yes there would be pain but I knew I could do it like I had before and like so many women I knew had done it (drug free) before. After all Mama’s are super heroes minus the capes. I felt anything was possible…
I was given the prostaglandin pessary at around 11pm on the 9th of January. So naturally was thinking baby would be born by 2pm as her sister was “exactly the same” or so I kept saying to the nurses! The poor girls must have thought I had serious notions as I clearly in my “get this baby out of me” stage had decided I knew more then they did and I’m sure my list of Mariah Carey demands scared them. Thankfully I did have a room fit for the president (hotel or hospital) I’m still not sure but at least I was comfortable.
Within 2hours the pain kicked in. Hello contractions my old friends and I started to get excited and felt like telling the Nurses “See I told ye I would go fast!” Unfortunately this was not the case. As it turned out my Cervix was not playing ball and I was 1cm for what felt like a year! Yes a year – I am not dramatic! around 3pm on the 11th of January, after pacing the corridors and pretending I did not need my crutches (stubborn as hell) a midwife called me back into my room and told me I needed to relax.
I won’t lie to you all. At this point I was the most emotional I had ever been in my life. Slightly psychotic Mr O may say. I actually thought that she was trying to make the labour stop. That if I took what ever medicine she wanted to give me my contractions would stop and the time I was in agony would have been for nothing. That she didn’t want me to go into labour for the weekend as it would be a hassle to the DR. Yes. Psycho! She asked me to have a pain relief and relaxant to help me sleep. To which Mr O said – DO IT.
When I woke up at 6pm I didn’t feel much pain but could still feel that I was contracting. The midwife came in and said she would check me again and when she did the waters broke. Imagine a midwife on your bed. Waters flowing and you are crying. Crying tears of Joy that this was finally happening. That you hadn’t abandoned your kids for nothing. That you would be coming home some time soon with a baby! I kissed and hugged that midwife probably more then I should have but she was so right. I needed that rest for what was to come!
Flash forward to somewhere around 2am on the 12th of January. I was in the most pain I’d ever experienced. I prayed frequently. I changed positions every five minutes. I found myself, at one point or another, in absolutely every position possible. Myself and Mr O enjoyed the Gas (one of us more than the other) and things were finally happening. The midwife checked me at 4am and said you are only 5cm (to which I broke a little) but felt happy it was all going in the right direction. Then 30 minutes later I felt that I couldn’t take any more. She said she would check me again and thankfully… finally… It was time to push!
and just like that.
Baby was here.
That golden moment were you see your new bundle for the first time. I was waiting for the tears to come… and they did.
However this time around it felt like tears of relief rather then magic!? Truth be told I felt sad that I felt this way. That the tears I had shed when our other two little loves appeared were exciting, new life, over the moon happy tears and yet the first moments for this little love I was crying out of exhaustion, thankfulness that baby was here and safe and perfect. Obviously I was over joyed that baby was finally here but totally shocked that I didn’t feel that same overwhelming feeling that I was excited about feeling for 9 months. I then felt awful and so guilty that I was feeling this way and felt that I didn’t give this gorgeous bundle every happy emotion she deserved in the first few minutes of her life.
Thankfully those feelings went fast. She almost walked up to feed off me and latched on like she had done this all before. She stayed there for so long all Mr O could do was sit and stare at her. I couldn’t wait for him to get a hold as that special bond between Daddy’s and their Daughter’s I know all to well. We were so shocked she was a Girl. Another beautiful Girl. She was tiny. The smallest baby we had and yet she was in for the longest.
She was perfect.
She came out with a tan, dark hair and blue eyes. Such a mix of both her big sisters.
We named her Fiadh-Belle. Meaning Wild Beauty. A name that we felt suited her from the moment she arrived.
It turns out that on that day, I had followed a plan, it may not have been my plan, but a plan none the less. I was challenged countless of times and each time I overcame. Going through everything that I had during my labor and delivery really inspired me, thinking about all of the women who had labor and delivery experiences that they hadn’t planned for. I talk to other mother’s now and I feel like I can relate to so many of their stories. I had experienced a lot in all those hours, more than I ever thought I would. More then I will ever give myself credit for.
I applaud those women who went naturally, those who water birthed, who booked in for a c-section, those who ended up with a c-section, Mother’s who were induced and the unknown.
The pride I feel now for all Mother’s – No matter what their journey into motherhood looked like, became immeasurable.
Love, Helly xx