Okay, here it is……the highlights…gory bits omitted…and names changed to protect the innocent.
Monday am….saw doc, had a check, things looking ‘favourable’, doc did a bit of what himself describes as ‘jiggery-pokery.’
Monday lunch time…mild contractions start. Spend most of Monday walking the streets while mum minds crazypixie.
5am Tue….contractions strong enough that I can’t sleep through them.
5:30…….himself and myself have a cup of tea in the garden and between contractions enjoy the early morning sunshine and decide that today is a lovely day for a birth.
6:30….off to hospital. Therein follows a few hours of increasing contractions which I dealt with in my own unique way by trying to remember the mantras from my gentlebirth programme (which I never did get finished) and sampling the miracles of modern pain relief (the same as last time, I started off refusing everything and by the end would probably have gratefully taken heroin – big wuss that I am).
Fast forward through my martyrdom…………(must mention how wonderful himself was…..and how he knew just when to shut up)..
15:40. Pushing begins. Lovely midwife explains about pushing 3 times on each contraction and that when she sees head begin to crown, she’ll ask me to pant to slow things down.
15:45…contraction (or surge in gentlebirth lingo – I remembered that)…one push….midwife shouts ‘pant, pant, pant’…..little head is out already.
15:50….one more contraction and she’s fully out! Like a bar of soap (and no stitches for mummy)!
Then follows a lovely quiet time as she lies on my tummy and we all just pause and wait 5 mins for the chord to stop pulsing. Himself cuts the chord and she snuggles in for a long feed.
It was a lovely day and we’re home now since Wednesday lunch time. Crazypixie has been busy kissing her new ‘baba’, if anything we may have to curb her enthusiasm slightly. Our newly extended family is busy getting to know each other.
Welcome home our tinyelf.
Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birth. Show all posts
Thursday 18 June 2009
Thursday 11 June 2009
Thoughts on birth and other stuff...
It’s the day before my due date and I’ve decided I want a home birth.
Or rather, I don’t want an over medicalised hospital birth. Yes, this may be last minute panic or those crazy pregnancy hormones again but it’s more likely a result of my recent reading material.
I’ve been collecting information for a new section on birthing choices for tinygreenpeople and it has been an eye opener. Mammydiaries sent me a collection of links before she had her own wonderful home birth and I have been perusing them today (I know, superb timing as always).
It probably doesn’t help that my current bedtime reading material is ‘The Politics of Breastfeeding: When Breasts are Bad for Business’ by Gabrielle Palmer. Instead of winding down with a novel and drifting blissfully to sleep, I find myself being outraged again and again and waking himself up so I can rant at someone (be grateful that I don't have a laptop by my bed).
I’ve also spent a lot of time the last few months visiting friends and family in the local maternity hospital. This is a brand new, purpose built, ‘centre of excellence’. Why then does it seem so unsuitable for babies and mothers? Surely there is no need for it to be such a ‘hospital’. There must have been a way to design things so mothers and babies could bond gently without having to contend without the noisy family of ten visiting next door, without outrageously early morning rounds, food of little nutritional value and staff that is too overworked to provide the emotional and practical support many first time mothers need.
I know most of these problems stem from our individuated society and lack of community. Oh for a place where women could be women and share their experiences without judgement and children could be raised by family and community as opposed to a sector of the workforce.
Oh to live in a society rather than an economy.
But, I digress………again.
Or rather, I don’t want an over medicalised hospital birth. Yes, this may be last minute panic or those crazy pregnancy hormones again but it’s more likely a result of my recent reading material.
I’ve been collecting information for a new section on birthing choices for tinygreenpeople and it has been an eye opener. Mammydiaries sent me a collection of links before she had her own wonderful home birth and I have been perusing them today (I know, superb timing as always).
It probably doesn’t help that my current bedtime reading material is ‘The Politics of Breastfeeding: When Breasts are Bad for Business’ by Gabrielle Palmer. Instead of winding down with a novel and drifting blissfully to sleep, I find myself being outraged again and again and waking himself up so I can rant at someone (be grateful that I don't have a laptop by my bed).
I’ve also spent a lot of time the last few months visiting friends and family in the local maternity hospital. This is a brand new, purpose built, ‘centre of excellence’. Why then does it seem so unsuitable for babies and mothers? Surely there is no need for it to be such a ‘hospital’. There must have been a way to design things so mothers and babies could bond gently without having to contend without the noisy family of ten visiting next door, without outrageously early morning rounds, food of little nutritional value and staff that is too overworked to provide the emotional and practical support many first time mothers need.
I know most of these problems stem from our individuated society and lack of community. Oh for a place where women could be women and share their experiences without judgement and children could be raised by family and community as opposed to a sector of the workforce.
Oh to live in a society rather than an economy.
But, I digress………again.
Tuesday 9 June 2009
Family time.
Maybe the crazypixie knows something I don’t but she unpacks my labour bag at least twice a day and runs off with the contents. At this rate I could find myself in the labour ward with a bag containing nothing but some pre-chewed ricecracker, one sock and pink monkey (not an Anne Summers gadget but one of crazypixie’s stuffed minions).
At least there is plenty to distract me from obsessing over the upcoming birth.
My lil bro and his fiancée have conveniently decided to have their nuptials this week, followed a few days later by a great big wedding bash. There is a whole week of festivities planned to keep us all amused and to get to spend as much time as a family as possible( yes, this is a good thing – boringly, we all get on really well and said lil bro and fiancée normally reside in the antipodes).
Couldn’t we have timed this little better? You may well ask. And my entire family did ask when we first admitted that our due date might be a bit close to the wedding (as in two days after the ceremony and one day before the party). In our pathetic defence we hadn’t actually planned to be pregnant quite so soon. I was still breastfeeding crazypixie and she was just being introduced to the joys of solids. My cycle hadn’t even returned (ah yes, we’re the stereotypes – that couple that is cited as a warning about using breastfeeding as your only method of contraception).
My mum summed it up by retorting to my justifications, ‘Well, you didn’t do anything to prevent it!’
So, with a bit of luck my waters won’t break during the I do’s, we’ll all enjoy some great family celebrations over the next few days and just as we wind down from the wedding, I’ll put my hand on my bump, turn to himself and whisper, ‘I think it’s time dear.’
At least there is plenty to distract me from obsessing over the upcoming birth.
My lil bro and his fiancée have conveniently decided to have their nuptials this week, followed a few days later by a great big wedding bash. There is a whole week of festivities planned to keep us all amused and to get to spend as much time as a family as possible( yes, this is a good thing – boringly, we all get on really well and said lil bro and fiancée normally reside in the antipodes).
Couldn’t we have timed this little better? You may well ask. And my entire family did ask when we first admitted that our due date might be a bit close to the wedding (as in two days after the ceremony and one day before the party). In our pathetic defence we hadn’t actually planned to be pregnant quite so soon. I was still breastfeeding crazypixie and she was just being introduced to the joys of solids. My cycle hadn’t even returned (ah yes, we’re the stereotypes – that couple that is cited as a warning about using breastfeeding as your only method of contraception).
My mum summed it up by retorting to my justifications, ‘Well, you didn’t do anything to prevent it!’
So, with a bit of luck my waters won’t break during the I do’s, we’ll all enjoy some great family celebrations over the next few days and just as we wind down from the wedding, I’ll put my hand on my bump, turn to himself and whisper, ‘I think it’s time dear.’
Tuesday 2 June 2009
From Mummy to Littlespud.
Littlespud,
We are all ready to meet you. Your mummy wants to hold you in her arms, cuddle you, nurse you, gaze on you with wonder and of course respond to your every demand.
Your dada wants tell you how much he loves you, to snuggle you in his strong embrace and is all set for midnight nappy changes.
Your big sister has an endless supply of kisses for you. She’s ready to rock you enthusiastically and feed you all kinds of goodies when mummy’s not looking.
You have four doting grandparents who can’t wait for a cuddle and aunties and uncles ready to shower you with love. Your brand new little cousin is looking forward snuggling with you too.
These past nine months have been wonderful, feeling you grow and begin to move and wriggle. But it must be getting quite cramped in there now. Every time you stretch your legs that’s mummy’s stomach and ribs that are getting in your way. And mummy’s pelvis is that hard thing you butt your head against as you stretch your arms into mummy’s lower intestine and playfully punch her in the cervix.
There is much more room out here and we are all so looking forward to meeting you. This week would be lovely, today even, but preferably before your uncles wedding next week.
See you soon my little love,
Mummy
We are all ready to meet you. Your mummy wants to hold you in her arms, cuddle you, nurse you, gaze on you with wonder and of course respond to your every demand.
Your dada wants tell you how much he loves you, to snuggle you in his strong embrace and is all set for midnight nappy changes.
Your big sister has an endless supply of kisses for you. She’s ready to rock you enthusiastically and feed you all kinds of goodies when mummy’s not looking.
You have four doting grandparents who can’t wait for a cuddle and aunties and uncles ready to shower you with love. Your brand new little cousin is looking forward snuggling with you too.
These past nine months have been wonderful, feeling you grow and begin to move and wriggle. But it must be getting quite cramped in there now. Every time you stretch your legs that’s mummy’s stomach and ribs that are getting in your way. And mummy’s pelvis is that hard thing you butt your head against as you stretch your arms into mummy’s lower intestine and playfully punch her in the cervix.
There is much more room out here and we are all so looking forward to meeting you. This week would be lovely, today even, but preferably before your uncles wedding next week.
See you soon my little love,
Mummy
Saturday 23 May 2009
Welcome to the world.....
There is a new person in the world. My little sister is a mother. I’m an auntie. My daughter is a cousin.
My first nephew was delivered by c-section on Monday morning and we’re all besotted. They gave him a lovely name but let’s just call him lilman here.
He is beautiful and amazing and I want to cuddle him all the time. Maybe it’s my hormones but watching my sister with lilman makes me just want to smother them both in kisses and love (obviously I restrain myself as I don’t want to freak her out totally).
Over the last 9 months I’ve had the privilege of being there to witness my sis go through her first pregnancy. I’ve watched in amazement as this career girl let her maternal side emerge as she embraced impending parenthood.
Being due only 3 weeks apart meant we got to spend a lot of very special time together and compare notes on both the wonders and trials of pregnancy. We would sit in sis’s kitchen, while crazypixie reorganised all her cupboards, eating fruit and chocolate (standard pregnancy fare) bemoaning varicose veins and swollen ankles and sharing the wonders of little kicks and wriggles.
I’m now looking on in awe as she takes to parenting like a natural (which she is). And I feel the overwhelming pride of big sister as I watch her and her husband deal calmly yet confidently with specialists about health concerns and as they battled the health system to make sure their lilman could be exclusively breast fed (why oh why do the some midwifes think a bottle is the solution to everything).
We’re having conversations now that I never imagined: there are text messages in the middle of the night about the joys of blocked ducts and sore nipples.
I’m so looking forward to the weeks ahead as our little ones grow up alongside each other.
I’ve also been thinking of my girls and I can only hope that crazypixie and littlespud share a similarly supportive relationship (oh, I know they’ll be fit to kill each other at times too) throughout all the ups and downs of their lives.
Oh dear, I think I may be turning into a sentimental wreck in these last few weeks of pregnancy……..
My first nephew was delivered by c-section on Monday morning and we’re all besotted. They gave him a lovely name but let’s just call him lilman here.
He is beautiful and amazing and I want to cuddle him all the time. Maybe it’s my hormones but watching my sister with lilman makes me just want to smother them both in kisses and love (obviously I restrain myself as I don’t want to freak her out totally).
Over the last 9 months I’ve had the privilege of being there to witness my sis go through her first pregnancy. I’ve watched in amazement as this career girl let her maternal side emerge as she embraced impending parenthood.
Being due only 3 weeks apart meant we got to spend a lot of very special time together and compare notes on both the wonders and trials of pregnancy. We would sit in sis’s kitchen, while crazypixie reorganised all her cupboards, eating fruit and chocolate (standard pregnancy fare) bemoaning varicose veins and swollen ankles and sharing the wonders of little kicks and wriggles.
I’m now looking on in awe as she takes to parenting like a natural (which she is). And I feel the overwhelming pride of big sister as I watch her and her husband deal calmly yet confidently with specialists about health concerns and as they battled the health system to make sure their lilman could be exclusively breast fed (why oh why do the some midwifes think a bottle is the solution to everything).
We’re having conversations now that I never imagined: there are text messages in the middle of the night about the joys of blocked ducts and sore nipples.
I’m so looking forward to the weeks ahead as our little ones grow up alongside each other.
I’ve also been thinking of my girls and I can only hope that crazypixie and littlespud share a similarly supportive relationship (oh, I know they’ll be fit to kill each other at times too) throughout all the ups and downs of their lives.
Oh dear, I think I may be turning into a sentimental wreck in these last few weeks of pregnancy……..
Tuesday 7 April 2009
Different the second time?
With the reality of having a second baby in two months time sinking in, my thoughts turned to a question I was asked recently. ‘What will you do differently this time?’
Don’t worry, I’m not going to analyse every parenting decision we’ve made over the past year. Well, I do that all the time but I’ll refrain from subjecting innocent blog browsers to my hypercritical self analysis.
There are a few obvious things though.
Firstly the birth……….
I don’t care if this baby wants to arrive two months late; I AM NOT BEING INDUCED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Let’s just say that it was not the most pleasant 24 hours of my life and leave it at that.
This time I plan on waking up one morning to find that I’ve slept through most of the first stage of labour, that contractions are five minutes apart and it’s time to go to the hospital. Like my birthing CD promises, gentle surges will help my cervix to open like a rosebud and my baby, who is the perfect size for my body by the way, will emerge gently. Through it all I will remain focused, calm and in control. Don’t argue with me, this is the way it will happen!
Secondly, I will accept more help…
I may have mentioned the control freak aspect of my personality before. I think this may have played no small part in my three bouts of mastitis as I tried to be all to my wonderful new daughter. I will remember my limitations, and those of himself, this time round and gratefully accept all offers of help (it’s my catholic upbringing making me sound contrite , I can’t help it).
Lastly, less obsessing……
Ok this whole control thing is becoming a major theme, but last time round I was so obsessed with just making sure my daughter survived (she was perfectly healthy) that I may have compromised the enjoyment a little. Now I know the extra crazy hormones (as opposed to the average crazy ones) will take over but I’m going to work at keeping things in perspective a little.
What do you know, I feel better already. Nothing like a good ole self therapy session into the anonymous void of the blogosphere.
We will not only cope but it will be a wonderful experience. And one thing I know for sure is that crazypixie will be a great big sister.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to analyse every parenting decision we’ve made over the past year. Well, I do that all the time but I’ll refrain from subjecting innocent blog browsers to my hypercritical self analysis.
There are a few obvious things though.
Firstly the birth……….
I don’t care if this baby wants to arrive two months late; I AM NOT BEING INDUCED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Let’s just say that it was not the most pleasant 24 hours of my life and leave it at that.
This time I plan on waking up one morning to find that I’ve slept through most of the first stage of labour, that contractions are five minutes apart and it’s time to go to the hospital. Like my birthing CD promises, gentle surges will help my cervix to open like a rosebud and my baby, who is the perfect size for my body by the way, will emerge gently. Through it all I will remain focused, calm and in control. Don’t argue with me, this is the way it will happen!
Secondly, I will accept more help…
I may have mentioned the control freak aspect of my personality before. I think this may have played no small part in my three bouts of mastitis as I tried to be all to my wonderful new daughter. I will remember my limitations, and those of himself, this time round and gratefully accept all offers of help (it’s my catholic upbringing making me sound contrite , I can’t help it).
Lastly, less obsessing……
Ok this whole control thing is becoming a major theme, but last time round I was so obsessed with just making sure my daughter survived (she was perfectly healthy) that I may have compromised the enjoyment a little. Now I know the extra crazy hormones (as opposed to the average crazy ones) will take over but I’m going to work at keeping things in perspective a little.
What do you know, I feel better already. Nothing like a good ole self therapy session into the anonymous void of the blogosphere.
We will not only cope but it will be a wonderful experience. And one thing I know for sure is that crazypixie will be a great big sister.
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