Birth Announcement- Welcome Baby James

Well, HE arrived! At 41 weeks gestation exactly our son arrived. A baby brother to 3 very excited big sisters. We decided to call him James, but Jimmy suits him well. Who of you guessed the gender correctly?

My tightening’s started as niggles at 2pm on Saturday 30th of September as we were sat in town waiting for some pub-grub. Just a few achy twinges, nothing too exciting. I did dismiss them for the usual achey hips that I had been experiencing for weeks.  Come 4.30pm (and lots more niggles later) I JUST knew it was the real deal and decided to call the hospital.

Now, normally the midwives wouldn’t expect a woman to make her way into hospital when her contractions are 4-5 minutes apart and are manageable but as this was my 4th baby and my last labour was just 17 minutes, they wanted me to come in. I was set to have a home birth, but something twigged in my head that I wanted to go to hospital. This seemed strange as I was so determined to have a home birth, but suddenly I knew it was where I wanted to be. I am a firm believer of trusting ones own instincts, and this strange feeling I was going to trust.

Once we arrived at our hospital my contractions were very regular and starting to get more intense. I was briefly monitored that showed Jimmy’s heart rate was dipping with each tightening, but nothing of huge concern. He then pooped meconium inside of me, which was present once my waters had gone. Good job we did go into hospital, because if I was having a home birth I would have been advised to go in due to these little hiccups.

I had around 10 easily manageable contractions, but was talking and chatting between them. As I wasn’t allowed in the birthing pool due to Jimmy’s heart rate and meconium issue, my next most comfortable position was on my knees leaning over the bed end. I don’t think the midwives realised just how close I was to delivery, as it was my husband who told them firmly insisted that we were so close to meeting our son. He knows how I labour so well, and is an exceptional birth partner. Soon he realised that I was making a familiar groaning sound- one that I only make when baby is nearly out!

“Can she have the gas and air please?”

“Yes soon.” Not the answer I wanted to hear. Gas and air is my best friend, my ally in labour. But I honestly think the midwife thought I was no where near delivering. After all, she did an internal exam just 10 minutes ago and I was only 2cm dilated (most hospitals won’t acknowledge labour as labour until a lady is 5cm dilated and then labour is classed as ‘active’.

“I really think she wants it.” He said.

“This is fucking intense and it’s all in my bum”.  Says a rather calm me. CALM.

I turn to Jay and smile.”Ok, He’s coming Jay. I can feel him there *points to vajayjay*. He’s going to be here in a minute!” *Massive grin!*

Suddenly the midwife realised too, and I suggested that it may be wise I removed my underwear… sharpish! I very VERY quickly stripped! One big contraction and Jimmy’s head was out. One more big contraction and his body arrived next!

Well… that was all over rather quickly. I’ve made Pot Noodles in longer time.

We spent the next hour alone in our room with our son. I started breastfeeding, while Jay made me a nice cup of tea and some slices of toast. Everything was just perfect.

There was one (well 4!) little surprises that we discovered upon Jimmy’s arrival. He has been born with Syndactyly, fusion of the fingers and toes. Both hands and feet are affected, and he has been referred to the plastic surgeon. I am sure this is a topic that I shall write about on my blog again, as we go on a journey with Jimmy and this condition.

So, Welcome little Jimmy. 7lb 5oz of perfection!

 

“You Had That Baby Yet?” And Other Things I hear At The School Gates

I’m ‘over-due’, a phase I use loosely. 5 days ‘over-due’ and things are starting to get a little crap. Not so much with the pregnancy but the public property my cervix has become.

Did you know that a pregnancy is considered term from anywhere between 37 weeks and 42 weeks gestation? That’s a whole 5 weeks a baby could arrive… at any time. I wouldn’t really say a baby is actually ‘over-due’ until a day past 42 weeks. So, considering that I have been asked if I have “had that baby yet?” several times a day for the last 3 weeks, I am pleasantly surprised I have not fully lost my shit with someone. I have been close.

At first it was funny, seeing the school gate mums become excited for our newest arrival. “Have you had that baby yet?” they would say with humour, rubbing my bump (what is with that?!). Each day, more people would ask. I realised this is what it must feel like to be popular… you know, to be one of the kids in school who was always surrounded by people who actually gave a damn about them. During school I was the goth kid who people just met at the park for a fag and to listen to Slipknot with. TBF not much changed, well into my 20’s.

Oh to be popular…

So, now I am ‘over-due’, I have genuinely started to fear the school run. With days of prodromal labour coming and going, news has gotten around that I am close to delivery. Why oh why did I ever tell them my due date in the first place?

What NOT to say to the Beached Whale on the school run…

Anyways… here are my internal answers to the most common things said to a heavily pregnant mother (me) at the school gates.

Warning- It’s not pretty. And I do not mean to offend my buddies who care for myself, my baby and my reproductive organs. Thank you ladies, for caring. Even if you are starting to get annoying AF.

“You had that baby yet?” Look at the fucking size of me Laura. Does it look like I’ve had this baby? No. It’s just gas. And pizza. And wine.

“Have you tried having sex?” Well Hell! Just rolling over in bed is horrific, let alone doing-the-deed. Shagging resembles Jabba The Hutt self exploring a new Karma Sutra mag, and that was BEFORE I hit the 40 weeks mark. Also, look at my husbands face. Look how tired he looks. He is knackered and not enjoying it.

Yes, this is a thing. Source: http://www.drunkmall.com/sex-sells/

“You look so tired.” Oh thanks Sophie. Thanks for making it obvious that I painfully get up to pee 3x in the night, That I am dragging around an extra 10 stones of weight (between my thighs) and that I already have 3 kids to run around after. Oh did I mention I am also exhausted from all of the sex that people have been demanding that I have!?

“Won’t be long now.” Noooooooooo just potentially another 2 weeks. 2 weeks of fearing to sneeze and another 2 weeks of listening to this shit DAILY.

“Go home and scrub the floor.” Hey Mandy, why don’t you come back to mine and scrub the floor or me? You obviously care so much for my household cleanliness. Oh, you mean to help get the baby out? Well gee, getting my ‘Jabba The Hut Karma Sutra’ self down on the floor sounds like great fun. I’d rather be pregnant forever, thanks.

*Looks at me with pitty/disappointment* *I return the look, over your dire fashion choices. Those are slippers. Not fashion.*

“The Chemist down the road sells Castor Oil to pregnant women.” What a splendid idea, let’s give myself a disgusting bout of diarrhoea that could potentially harm my baby by causing it to poop inside of me and inhale its own faeces, thus putting us both in hospital for longer than necessary. I think I’ll pass. Oh it worked for you, that’s great. I’ll still pass.

And my ultimate favourite-

“Where’s that baby?!” OH FUCK!!! I knew I left something at home this morning!!!! Silly me. bitch.