Well, I have taken my time getting this post done, but here it is, one week on.
Claire arrived on Tuesday 6th September (1 week overdue) weighing 4.225kg and measuring 52cm long.
Skip the next few paragraphs if you don't want to read the birth story. I just feel like I need to tell my story and get it over with. Weird, I know, but it's like I have to let go of it or something and telling it or writing it helps me do that.
For about a week before she came I had been convincing myself that the Braxton Hicks were getting stronger and that maybe, just maybe, they were getting painful. I'm sure Lyle was sick of me mentioning this all day long and had stopped listening to me altogether. However, at 2:30 on Tuesday morning I woke up with a sore back, thought nothing of it and tried to go back to sleep. The pain didn't go away and I was wondering if I should wake lyle up or if I was just getting excited over nothing again. The next one came and I decided it probably was labour and we should think about making our way into town and dropping Milly off at Nan's. By the time we got to the hospital I knew for sure that I was in labour. As Milly was born via emergency Caesar I was determined that this birth would be a VBAC. In the case of a VBAC labour has to run perfectly and at a good progression rate. If slowed down at all a caesar needs to happen straight away. Because of this I was determined not to have an epidural (as the last one stopped my labour completely) and so endured labour with gas. I have to say the gas worked amazingly for awhile, then I got sick of trying to breathe so much. After 6 hours I was checked and found to be 10cm (they decided to check because I was screaming about wanting an epidural and the fact that I couldn't take anymore. Luckily Daddy and the midwives knew how much I didn't want another caesar and managed to convince me that it was too late anyway). However, her head was still too high and my pushing was doing nothing, so it was decided that I couldn't labour any longer without risking uterine rupture and I would need to have a caesar. At the time I felt nothing but relief that the pain would soon be over from the spinal. There was only a very tiny niggly thought of disappointment that I would have to recover from another caesar. Once I got the spinal I was a very happy, chatty and excited patient and felt my energy rushing back. However, when the lady beside me was up carrying on life as normal after her delivery and passing me Claire and making me cups of tea I was jealous, but really, once I had my baby in my arms I just didn't care.
This time around the whole caesar experience was completely different. I wasn't scared because I knew how it worked and what happens. I also wasn't sick from loss of organ function (which I was last time) and so knew my recovery would be quicker. I was out of bed the next day (it took 3 days last time) and home on day 2. I was able to care for my baby on my own so much sooner and didn't have trouble with my milk coming in because I wasn't on all the drugs I was last time, so was able to successfully breastfeed from day one without the help of midwives. (Claire also had a much better idea of what to do than her slightly tongue tied sister). Being able to care for baby on my own so soon was such an uplifting feeling and the energy that came with this little high is yet to leave, even with the sleepless nights. At the time of Milly's birth I had no idea that a Caesar recovery wasn't always that traumatic and didn't realise that my extra health problems were slowing things down so much, which is why I was so completely against another one. It turns out that if there are no complications it is not nearly as bad, at least in my case anyway. Still far from ideal, but not as traumatising.
OK, birth story over now!
Since arriving at home, I have pretty much returned to normal house duties or made ways to make things possible (like getting Milly into her cot without Daddy's help). Mostly I feel absolutely fantastic and I don't think I could be any happier or any more in love with my little family.
I also have to say that Daddy was a wonderful birth support partner and although I didn't abuse him in any way, I said some pretty irrational things and he let me squeeze his hand (HARD) with every contraction. He did exactly what I needed him to and when and I didn't let him out of my sight. Oh and little Miss Milly is LOVING her baby sister, but gets very worried whenever she cries. She looks at her so intently and pats her on the back or gives her rocker a rock and says 'heyo Care' in the sweetest voice ever. She also says 'mook pees mummy' (milk please mummy) when you ask her what Claire says.
|about 3 hours old|
|ladies of the house|
|5 days old|
|3 days old|